#lokismut

[lokisgoodgirl]

Liberties [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After ruining the biggest night of your career, Loki ruins you, too. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Dickish Avenger!Loki. Language. Workplace romance. Rough(ish) smut. (w/c 3.1k)

Folds of your expensive black dress swished as you stormed down the corridor of the forty-sixth floor. Everyone was still at the event. Or, The Shitstorm as it would now be known. Shame. Shouting at someone would really help right now.

You tore out the earpiece and slammed it on the nearest desk, shoving a pile of papers off the side for good measure. Laufeyson.

You’d spent months concocting the perfect debut for that greasy-haired, peacocking, gangly-limbed motherfucker. Did he say ‘thank you’? Did he smile and mind his P’s and Q’s and pose with the New York glitterati like he was supposed to for one night?

Nails sank into the soft flesh of your palm. Course he fucking didn’t.

After he’d gone off script during his speech, stating he could fix the woeful state of Earth’s political spectrum in thirty-seven minutes, it had all gone downhill. Insulting politicians, flirting egregiously with their wives…with their husbands.

The cool glass met your forehead as your rested against the door with your name on it. Director, it said. It didn’t feel like it. Fucking Laufeyson. He was unmanageable—just like his hair. He didn’t even comb it—bastard. You’d specifically requested it.

There was a bottle of whisky hidden in the bookcase behind a doorstop project management manual. You glanced down the empty corridor a final time and slipped inside the dark office, making straight for the bookcase. Pulling out the book concealing your beautiful, impending numbness, you frowned. The bottle was—

"I’m afraid I took the liberty," someone said.

You screamed, lobbing the book in the direction of the voice. It hit the flat, black back of your office chair with a pathetic thump.

The chair swivelled: glacial, infuriating. But you already knew. It was that voice; the one that made it impossible not to imagine him making snide remarks while he fucked you from behind with a fist knotted at your scalp. And besides, you could see the wavy, rumpled crown of his greasy fucking hair over the rim of the chair.

"How did you…What the hell are you doing in here? This is restricted—"

"Restricted?" Laufeyson barked out a weak laugh of reprimand. "Please."

He raised a hand, gaze fixed on the ornate glass of amber liquid cupped in his palm. It had been a present from Stark for your promotion, and the sting of your nails on your palm burned new. "This is really rather good, considering."

"Considering what?" "That it was produced on this planet." His eyes slid to yours, upper lip twitching as he said, "Another thing to add to its sparse list of accomplishments."

You pulled another book from the shelf and threw it at his face. It missed.

Loki didn’t flinch. He just sat there wearing his favourite smirk; one foot resting on his knee and his shadowed eyes glinting with curious observation. He’d removed the suit jacket—the one specifically tailored for this event—in his requested colour, a lush emerald green with gold trim.

Dickhead. You’d run yourself ragged for his petty demands. And then he’d fucked it all up anyway.

Realising your eyes were lingering on the suspenders stretched against the wall chest muscle, you tore them up to his face and forced coldness into your voice. "I literally left the event to get away from you, before I punched you in the face; you realise that?"

"I do."

You threw up your hands and turned towards the window, arms folded; watching the flash of traffic on the street below like luminous ants. Spotlights flashed across the night sky, crossing and weaving against each other in celebration of the biggest night of the year. "Stark will fire me for what you did."

Loki’s laugh was accompanied by a splutter of liquid. You shot a glare over your shoulder, catching him press the back of a hand against his mouth and shaking with mirth.

"I think not. Stark cares only for publicity—and…" He extended a hand with a self-congratulatory flourish before resting an elbow on the armrest, brushing a finger to his lips. "He knows what I’m like," he added with a coy brush of a smile.

Heat exploded beneath your skin.

Before you could think it through you were towering over Loki, a hand spread against his sternum. You pushed against muscle, letting the chair tilt ominously backwards. Loki’s eyes widened fractionally, dark eyebrows peaking in genuine surprise. "If you've ruined my career I will hunt you down and I will—"

"Hunt me down?" Loki purred. His eyes dropped to your hand pressed to his chest and rose slowly to your face. "I’m right here, as you can plainly see. No hunting necessary." His rumble caught on the T. "Being accosted, no less."

You released him with a grunt.

"Couldn’t you just behave? This was your big night…your official launch in the team, your new start. Why couldn’t you just be good for once?"

"Good?" Loki’s voice hardened. A green, glowing rectangle unfurled in the empty air beside his shoulder, and a shot from the ad campaign you’d organised several weeks ago filled the space.

Emblazoned in Stark Industries font across the image of Loki looking like a sexual apocalypse in a skin tight leather combat suit were the flickering words, ‘God of Mischief.’ And then, Loki said, "It’s in the name, darling. The one you selected—a new start was never part of the agreement, nor was it suggested. I believe the phrase was, ‘refreshed branding'…Was it not?"

He shifted, and somehow the muscles in his legs were outlined in the soft glow of a thousand skyscraper windows. "Same package, different wrapping, as it were."

Your brows rose, trying to keep the brittle defeat from your eyes. "Your behaviour tonight was unacceptable. You can’t go around comparing global foreign policy to Thanos’s bowel movements."

Loki waved a hand, sliding the glass over the desk with a scoff.

"My behaviour is always unacceptable; it’s part of the allure. The populous long for something raw, something unexpected. Something unmarred by inane pleasantries and fakery." His eyes slid upwards, nailing you like gas lamps in darkness. "Take you, for instance."

It was your turn to scoff. "I don’t see what I have to do with this."

Loki leant back in the chair, eyelids drooping. His tongue nipped over his lips in a flash of pink. "You very much want to have me; I can see it. I can smell it."

Your jaw loosened, mortification prickling over your skin as he added, "Carnally," as if it required explanation.

"You’re out of your fucking mind. I can’t stand you."

Loki’s lips curled, and you hated how much you wanted to suck the smirk off his goddam mouth. "Correct on both counts, I’m sure. It doesn’t change the inescapable reality that you want to know what I taste like."

Your tongue shaped words, and then you choked on them as Loki unfurled from the chair: all long limbs, slutty curls and slimfit tailoring. Oh Christ.

Your bare shoulder-blades met the window as he meandered across the floor without a care in the world; bladed cheekbones casting shadows across his skin; assassins emerging from the dark.

"You want to know what I fuck like," he said, words stirring like treacle. "Whether I’m generous, whether I’m as good as they say, whether I’m as brutish and punishing as part of you hopes I would be."

He stood in front of you, hands clasped behind his back, and leant forwards until his breath was hot on your forehead and the expensive cologne wafting from the open buttons of his shirt drifted up your nostrils. A short puff of mirth exhaled against your skin before he added, piercing, "But most of all, you want to know what I sound like when I cum."

He was awful: conceited, rude, imperious. But, fuck, he was right.

Your sweaty palms slid against the glass as he straightened and waited for a response. He sighed, and you found yourself staring at the strain of the buttons down the front of his shirt as he did.

"As I thought," said Loki, bored. "Paralysed by your desires—wasting away in a pit of indecision and regret as so many of your ilk." He shrugged, arms wide. "So be it."

Your hand shot out, yanking the nearest suspender and pulling his mouth to yours. Loki’s hand flew to the surface behind your head, and the wall of glass trembled.

His warrior body pressed firm against your chest, crushing you in the scent of desire and the primal heat radiating from his skin while your hands fisted in his hair and the god groaned into your throat.

He pulled back, frowning as your hand grasped at the erection pressing against his trousers. "Let me be clear," he growled. ‘I am no one’s pet. I will not be tamed. Is that understood?"

"Oh, will you shut up?" You tore at the buttons of his shirt, regretting the lack of nuance, before adding, "but, like, keep talking though."

Loki’s chuckle vibrated against your palms as the shirt slid over the curve of his biceps and then you were raking at his perfect skin, pulling his mouth to yours in a hateful mess of tongues and need and fire that ripped through your body.

Nimble fingers made quick work of his buckle, and Loki’s hands ran up the curve of your thighs, pushing the folds of your dress around your hips. "I've been longing to break you in..." he muttered, eyes shining in the light from New York’s glittering skyline.

You yanked his hair, and Loki hissed with pleasure. "I’m not a virgin; weirdo," you gasped, grasping his thick, perfect cock in a punishing fist.

His lips spread with a wolfish grin. "Ah, but you’ve never been fucked by me."

One of his hands slipped between your legs and trailed through the wetness it found. He moaned softly, massaging your clit like oil. Your head fell against the window as he slipped a long, elegant finger inside you. It was disgusting how much you wanted him, and you’d let yourself feel every, traitorous moment.

His digits curled, stoking the same, exquisite spot again, and again— "such a pretty, warm cunt," he whispered, filthy—as whines slid from your lips. "And to think, you’ve been denying yourself."

Loki tsk’d, his free hand playing at your exposed neck. He sucked a bruising kiss into your throat as hot cum welled around his fingers, holding you upright, balanced against the thigh shoved between your legs.

"Fuck me," you gasped, grappling at his shoulders. He said nothing. You met his eyes; slivers of blue visible on the rim of wide, black pools. "Like…fuck me, fuck me."

"I knew you’d want me rough," he said quietly, drawing his knuckles down your cheek. The hand fell to the neckline of your dress and before you could even inhale, a mighty rip sent your dress scattering across the floor.

Loki’s covetous eyes roamed your chest, your body; his chin dipped, his eyes glazed with lust. "Over there." He motioned with his head.

You followed the order and gripped the back of one of the two chairs positioned by the window. Leather slid under the sheen clinging to your palms. Loki’s touch cupped your hips, his hands grazing appreciatively over bare skin.

"I knew it would be tonight," he murmured, pressing his cock into the base of your spine. His breath was hot on your throat. "As soon as I saw the utter loathing in your eyes; I knew it would be the one."

He twisted your hair back, biting the curve of your shoulder with unbearable erotic restraint. You pressed your ass into his crotch, moaning his name under your breath as he traced a finger down your spine until he reached the cock leaking precum over your skin.

Positioning between your legs, he rubbed the column twice through your slick lips before sheathing himself on the third.

The two of you gasped in unison; the guttural growl of Loki’s voice making your knees tremble before he delivered the first, devastating thrust. The force of it sent the chair screeching over the floor.

"G-gods…you’re tight," he choked, withdrawing and circling the crown at the tip of your channel. "I knew you would be perfect…but…but…"

Another thrust and the chair hit the window, but you didn’t care. Loki filled every part of you; you’d never felt so exposed, so free, with every fluid buck of his hips which made stars burst behind your eyelids. He bottomed out with a grunt of your name, balls slapping against your clit, one hand flying to the glass above your head and making a messy streak as it fell.

"Not enough," he said, breathless. The god pulled you upright and kissed you with the force of a storm, gathering you in his arms. The next thing you felt was the cool desk on your ass, Loki spreading your thighs and the utter joy of him breaching the empty space inside you he’d ruined for all other men.

One hand roughly palmed at your breasts, the other cradling your skull as every trinket you’d every owned rattled on the desk. Somewhere, something cracked. He went harder, pounding deeper with each snap of his hips that slapped against your skin.

There was a clink, a melodic roll, and then a smash. The sharp scent of whisky filled the air. You began to look but Loki pulled your chin to face him.

"On me," he ordered, eyes narrowed. There was a faint flush in his cheeks. "On me. Always."

Your legs wound around Loki’s hips. One kiss slid into another, his bucks becoming frantic as climax burst inside you with a rattle of his name. He lowered you to the desk, sliding his glistening cock from your cunt and kissing down your abdomen.

As you craned up, slack-jawed, the god delivered a single, earth-trembling lick up the centre of your pussy; gathering himself on his tongue. He swallowed, pacing behind you and seating himself on your chair.

You sat up, observing him over your shoulder. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, thanks to you, pale skin shimmering pearl in the honeyed gloom. He looked up beneath his lashes—smouldering—slender fingers wrapped around the cock protruding from splayed fabric; pumping in fluid strokes.

He cocked an eyebrow, and it was as good as a beckon from one of those slender fingers.

Shifting from the desk, you sank to your knees, and Loki’s legs widened. The fabric of his trousers creased maddeningly over the meat of his thighs.

"Tell me you haven’t thought about this," he said, baiting. He could smell lies as keenly as sulphur. "That you haven’t wanted to choke on my cock."

It wasn’t a question.

You fixed your eyes on his as you settled a hand around the root and swallowed the tip.

Loki’s eyes rolled back, head falling to the back of the chair. Black waves dripped down his shoulders like spilled ink, every thrust of his hips into your mouth making new combinations of filthy curses rattle from his chest.

A hand settled on your head, following the motion as your mouth worked back and forth along the length of him: sucking, licking, grazing the sensitive tip with your teeth. Loki hissed, fingers tightening in your hair.

"Fucking Norns, you are a slut," he muttered appreciatively.

You doubled down, and soon Loki’s balls tightened. Something shifted as he stiffened, the hand in your hair flying to the armrest. His breaths were short, moans brief and ragged as he fought himself. "Finish me," he growled, tapered to a whine. One, calculated suck was all it took. Loki’s climax trembled down his body, spurting into your mouth like a tide of warm, smooth butter. Your tongue circled the tip, massaging him through the throes as his body shuddered a final time and a staggered sigh rocked the air.

A finger slipped beneath your chin, tilting up to meet his expectant smirk. "Well?" Loki asked, eyes glinting. "Was I everything you dreamt of?"

The lazy smile on your face evaporated. You brushed the hand aside, covering your breasts. Loki frowned.

"There’s no need for that, believe me." He guided your hands into his and pulled you to his lap. "Do you recall when I mentioned this realm’s sparse list of accomplishments?" You grunted reluctant confirmation. Loki sucked your earlobe between his teeth, releasing a contented sigh. "Your body is most definitely on that list." He paused, breath catching. "All of you, truth be told," he added quietly.

Before you had time to process what he'd said, you were standing.

Loki’s fingers fastened the buttons of his shirt with unnatural speed as you stared forlornly at the ripped dress on the floor. Fuck. There was a sweatsuit hanging in the small wardrobe stashed in the corner. That would have to do—you could slip out the side entrance, no need to…

"I’ll see you downstairs?" Loki asked, all business. He looked at you expectantly as the bespoke forest green suit jacket melted over his torso like paint. You’d forgotten how good he looked in it and resolved never to forget it ever again.

The god carded a hand through his hair, letting in fall in wild waves. The outline of his erection was still visible through the tight trousers. Did I really just fuck…Loki Laufeyson? A sick pride sprouted in your belly.

You crouched and picked up the tattered, black fabric. "I don’t think so, I mean—" Loki’s kiss cut you off. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away.

"I’ll see you downstairs," he repeated softly. "Someone has to make sure I’m behaving myself, after all."

You rolled your eyes, trying not to stare as he swaggered to the door and shot a grin through the glass panels as he passed.

He has a point, though. You couldn’t let him go unattended. What if he gets one of the senators’ wives alone? What if he sexes them up...like me?

The thought, however ridiculous it would have been an hour ago, was like a knife between your ribs.

You scurried to the wardrobe concealed in the corner and opened it, cursing the fact you didn’t keep a spare office dress like the slinky bitches on TV.

You stared, blinking several times.

Hanging in the wardrobe was an identical dress to the one lying shredded on the floor. Almost identical. You pulled it out, holding the hanger up. In the glow of the midnight skyline, green jewels glittered around the neckline, woven in intricate patterns that melted into the folds of skirt. A note was pinned to the bodice. I can be good, it said. Our secret.

Tags in comments 💖🥰 Come say hi!

[societyfolklore]

Hey I have request for loki x reader where she says her safe word during really rough yk….any fluff really! Thank you smm

Title: Because You Said It

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Summary:  What starts as an intense scene with Loki quickly turns into something overwhelming. But when you use your safeword, Loki drops everything to take care of you. In his arms, you’re never just a plaything, you’re his everything.

Word Count:  2.3k

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, Smut, Safe Word Use, Soft Dom Loki,  Aftercare, Hurt-Comfort, Rough sex, Fluff,

   A/N:  Hope this is ok.... Your back hit the mattress with a soft thud, wrists pinned above your head, Loki's magic a shimmering tether that held you in place, firm, binding, unyielding. His weight settled over your hips, body a perfect cage, mouth at your throat, biting, teasing, marking. His teeth grazed and sank with calculated cruelty, each scrape pulling a whimper from your lips, every bruise he left a dark, aching promise that you were his to ruin and worship.

"Such a beautiful thing when you beg," he purred against your skin, voice a rumble of velvet smoke that sent shivers down your spine. His tongue traced a slow, possessive line up your throat before his lips brushed your ear. "But tonight, I don't want your words. I want your surrender."

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, eyes dark with hunger and intent. "I want to break you open completely," he said, and his tone held reverence, not cruelty. "I want to take you apart piece by piece until you're trembling and raw and mine in every way."

His hips pressed forward in a slow, grinding roll that made your breath stutter. "I want all of it. Every gasp, every cry, every broken edge of you- offered to me like worship."

His lips ghosted over your pulse point, voice lowering further. "And when there’s nothing left but the pieces you give me, I’ll hold them. I’ll rebuild you."

The weight of his promise settled over you like silk and iron, both terrifying and comforting. You trembled under him, knowing you were about to be undone.

Your breath caught. Your lips parted to respond, but you simply nodded, trembling with anticipation. Eyes wide and glassy with arousal, your heart pounded in your chest like a war drum. He kissed your forehead, a fleeting, tender press that contrasted the feral hunger burning in his eyes. Fingers hooked in the band of your underwear, dragging them down with rough impatience, letting the cool air lick across flushed skin already tingling with need.

The first thrust had you gasping, back arching violently as the air punched out of your lungs. The second drove a helpless cry from your throat, a sound that echoed around the room like a prayer and a plea all at once. The third, deep and unrelenting. It knocked the breath clean from your lungs and left you reeling, vision blurring at the edges.

He was relentless.

The rhythm he set was brutal, merciless, each movement powered by something primal and possessive. His hips crashed into yours with bone-rattling force, again and again, as though he was trying to carve himself into your very being. Each thrust jolted through you like a lightning strike, turning your spine to fire. His hands clamped down on your waist, bruising, possessive, dragging you down into every punishing stroke until your body was trembling under the pressure.

You were folded beneath him, legs forced wide, your body moulded to the shape of his demands. His chest heaved with exertion above you, sweat slicked between your bodies, his hair falling wild around his face like a dark halo. Magic crackled along your skin, electricity buzzing under your flesh in rhythm with his thrusts, burning, thrilling, overwhelming.

The sounds between you were obscene. Wet. Sharp. Rhythmic and raw. Every gasp, every cry, every desperate plea was swallowed by the heavy air. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard knocking softly with each violent push.

He growled something in a language older than time, the syllables guttural and fierce, his voice ragged and deep with possession. “Mine,” he snarled, each syllable like iron dragged across silk. “This- all of you- mine to take. Mine to ruin. Mine to rebuild.”

You tried to keep up, to stay grounded, to stay present, but each thrust shoved you further from yourself. You were unraveling, each brutal snap of his hips shoving you further out of your body. Your hands strained uselessly against the binds, muscles aching from tension, your voice caught between moans, gasps, and the broken sound of surrender. Every inch of you was overstimulated, nerves screaming, your core tightening to a painful point.

His grip on your hips was bruising, holding you still while he fucked you through your own shattering limits. Your eyes fluttered, rolling back as your legs kicked weakly, searching for a foothold, a tether, anything. But there was only him. Only this.

It was too much. Too deep. Too fast. Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, pleasure and panic tangling together like wires in your chest. The edges of sensation blurred into something razor-sharp, something almost frightening. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but the sound of him claiming you. Your mind screamed for him, pleaded for him, but your voice faltered, lost beneath the rising tide of sensation.

You whimpered, a broken noise, tried again, louder this time, voice shaking, tears catching in your throat as your body trembled beneath him.

You had to say it. You needed to.

"Moonlight."

Everything stopped.

Loki froze instantly - not a moment of hesitation. The second the word left your lips, everything shifted. His eyes flew to your face, and panic surged beneath the thick layer of lust that had clouded them just moments before. One hand flew to your cheek, cupping it with trembling fingers, while the other steadied you by the waist. The magical restraints blinked out of existence with a faint shimmer, and your arms fell free, immediately cradled against your chest.

He leaned back, just enough to give you breathing room, his chest rising and falling too fast, like he’d just realized how far gone he’d been. His expression flickered, fury at himself, guilt, a gut-wrenching vulnerability that few ever got to see. The hunger in his features drained away, leaving only the echo of it clinging to the edges of a horror he could barely voice.

"Darling? Are you alright? Did I- did I hurt you?"

His voice was tight, like it caught in his throat on the way out. It wasn't Loki the god speaking. It was Loki the man, the one who held every shard of your safety like a sacred oath.

You nodded quickly, breath still coming in uneven bursts. Tears had welled at the corners of your eyes, not from pain but from sheer overwhelm. You reached for him instinctively, brushing your fingers against his forearm.

"I'm okay," you whispered hoarsely. "I just... I needed to say it before it was too much."

Without another word, he moved. Not rushed, but deliberate. He gathered you into his arms, pulling you against his chest with a gentleness that belied his strength. One arm wrapped tightly around your middle while the other smoothed over your spine, up and down in long, steady strokes meant to ground and soothe.

His lips brushed the crown of your head. "I'm sorry," he murmured, voice raw and cracking. "I should have seen the signs. I pushed too hard. I lost track of you."

You shook your head against his chest. "You stopped," you said, barely above a whisper. "That’s what matters. That’s why we have it. I trusted you to stop, and you did."

He pulled you even closer, chin resting atop your head, breath warm in your hair. His grip tightened—not out of desperation, but to reinforce his promise. The hunger from before had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming protectiveness that radiated from him like magic.

"You were perfect," he said, voice low and reverent. "So perfect. I lost myself, but you- you brought me back. With just one word. Gods, what would I do without that word... without you?"

The bath was already drawn when he carried you in his arms, one under your knees, the other wrapped securely around your back. This time, there was no magic, no teleportation. Just him. Steady and real. His footsteps were slow, careful, as though he feared jostling you might undo the fragile calm you were regaining.

"I'll take care of you," he murmured, his lips pressing softly to the top of your head, voice laced with devotion. "Let me make it right."

The water steamed gently, infused with lavender, chamomile, and something faintly citrus- your favorite blend. A calming combination, glowing faintly from the magic he’d imbued, but subtle, like a spell cast with love instead of power. The room was lit only by candlelight and the faint shimmer of rune-glow from the edges of the tub.

He stepped into the tub behind you, careful and composed, and lowered you carefully between his legs as though you were something fragile, newly made. You sank into him, your back against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, a deep exhale shuddering from your lungs. His arms folded around you briefly before one hand reached for the soap and the other cradled your jaw, guiding you gently.

His fingers moved with care, massaging your scalp, working shampoo through your hair with the gentleness of someone handling something sacred. His nails scraped lightly, grounding, and he murmured soft encouragements into your ear as he worked. He tilted your head back slightly, thumbs brushing behind your ears as warm water sluiced through your hair, rinsing away sweat and magic and remnants of strain. You could feel his breath near your temple, steady, grounding, and real in a way nothing else had felt all evening.

Even the steam seemed to wrap around the two of you like a blanket, like the bath itself had become a sanctuary he built for you to recover in. Every movement from him was reverent, quiet, but intended, as though he was worshiping, not washing.

“You did so well,” he murmured, his lips grazing your hairline as he spoke. “You let yourself go, you let me in. I saw all of you and you were beautiful.”

You let out a quiet sigh, eyes fluttering shut under the rhythm of his fingers.

“I’m so proud of you,” he continued, his voice softer than silk, wrapping around you like a second skin. “Not just for tonight. For trusting me. For knowing when to speak. For saying the word. That takes more strength than most people ever have.”

His fingers slowed, fingertips combing gently through your strands, letting the silence cradle the moment.

“You’re safe, love,” he whispered, placing a kiss just behind your ear. “Here, with me. Always. Nothing touches you without going through me first. Not pain. Not fear. Nothing.”

A soft shudder ran through you, but this time from comfort. Letting his hands and words soak into your bones.

He washed away sweat and tears, his touch never lingering too long, never crossing a boundary. Just enough to make you feel seen. Cherished.

When he gently washed between your thighs, he paused. His eyes searched your face.

"Better?"

"Yeah. That feels nice." You nodded, voice soft.

"Tell me if anything doesn’t," he said, so seriously you felt tears sting your eyes again.

After the bath, he helped you into one of his undershirts - impossibly soft, smelling like cedar and musk. He sat cross-legged behind you on the bed, towel draped over your shoulders, comb in hand.

He ran it gently through your hair, untangling every knot with infinite patience. You let out a small sigh as the tension left your body.

"Do you want a braid?"

"Yes, please."

He smiled, twisting strands between his fingers with a grace that spoke of years of practice. "Frigga used to braid mine, you know," he murmured, voice dipping into something softer, nostalgic. "She said it helped me focus. That sometimes, when the mind turns cruel and loud, the hands can soothe what the thoughts cannot."

He glanced down at the braid forming in his fingers, brushing a lock over your shoulder. "I didn’t believe her at first. Thought it was just something mothers said to keep restless sons calm. But later... I understood. There’s a kind of magic in the repetition, the care, the quiet of it."

His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "It became something I did when I needed to feel like myself again. When the chaos inside grew too loud."

The strands of your hair slipped through his fingers as he continued braiding, the rhythmic motion steady and grounding, not just for you but for him too.

You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm of his hands lull you into peace. Each tug of the braid soothed something inside you, and by the time he secured the end with a small band conjured from thin air, your muscles had gone soft and heavy. You leaned back against his chest for a moment, soaking in the warmth of his body and the feel of his arms wrapping around you.

When he finished, you turned in his lap, shifting to straddle him lazily, arms winding around his neck. He held you immediately, strong arms locking around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest as though he couldn’t bear a single inch between you.

His chin dipped to your shoulder, breath warming your skin. “You brought me back,” he murmured, voice thick. “The moment you said the word... it cut through everything. The haze, the hunger, I was gone, and then there you were.” His fingers splayed across your back, anchoring you. “I never want to be the reason you're afraid. Not even for a moment.”

Your fingertips stroked through the hair at the nape of his neck as you nuzzled into his collarbone. “You aren’t,” you whispered. “You're the reason I can say it. Because I know you'll always listen. Always catch me.”

He exhaled shakily, his body shuddering just once, then stilling. He kissed your shoulder, then your temple, then the crown of your head, slowly and reverently. “I’ll never let anything hurt you,” he said. “Not even me. Especially not me.”

You stayed wrapped together like that for a long time, swaying slightly as he rocked you without realizing it. Your heartbeats matched, slow and deep, and the world outside your quiet little cocoon ceased to matter. The candlelight flickered low, shadows stretching softly across the floor, and beyond the window, the stars blinked awake one by one, like they were watching over you.

Safe. Loved. Home.

[hunny-beann]

Worship; Devastation

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

Synopsis: Prince Loki gets some ideas regarding worship upon witnessing his lover in the particularly ethereal lighting of his bathing quarters...

And honestly, what is worship if not laying your utterly devastating touch upon your lover just to watch them unfurl before you?

Or, alternatively:

Devotion, reverence, and veneration at the hands of a god in 3,800 words or less

Note: Welcome back to the smut fest! Similarly to my last Loki smut fic, I also wrote a great deal of this one very early in the morning, so my apologies for any errors that I didn't manage to spot and edit out. I hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: Semi graphic NSFW, vulgarity, fingering, oral sex (f receiving)

She sat, naked as the day she she had been born, upon the edge of the royal bathing pool reserved solely for her beloved, the warm water lapping gently at her ankle as she leaned back on her forearms, right knee bent so one foot rested on the rune etched lip of the younger prince's extravagant bath.

It felt very Loki indeed, to have bathing quarters that seemed far more like a swimming pool than a tub, and she relished in the energy of the space, each detail reminding her of the man who floated gracefully in the waters just beneath her.

If her eyes were not closed at that very moment, she was certain that she would be unable to help but stare at him, not with the distracting way that his hair splayed out upon the surface of the water, or that his skin all but shone in the morning sun that doused the two of them from the skylight above.

This was not her first morning bath with him, far from it in fact, but as she basked in the sunlight, she still felt herself jump when a familiar hand wrapped around the ankle that dangled within the water, her eyes flying open to find his stunning blues already awaiting her gaze.

And oh, what a sight he made.

There he was, Prince Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief, entirely bare within the warm waters of his bath, and submerged to his upper arms, revealing his strong shoulders, angular jaw, and sharp collar bones, all of which dripped almost tantalizingly with slow moving droplets of water, which clung to his skin in a manner that nearly made her jealous of them.

He looked up at her with an earnest curiosity and something that almost bordered on vulnerability, his grip loosening but not quite fading from her ankle as his thumb began to stroke the flesh just above where the water ceased to lap at her.

Eager to find out what had caught the attention of her lover, she leaned forward, placing her hand atop his own as she tilted her head in a silent question that she soon vocalized in spite of her subtle gestures.

"Is there something wrong, dear prince?"

She asked, her voice quiet and with an almost breathless quality that only seemed fitting for such a peaceful morning.

In reply, Loki simply placed his free hand on the lip of the bath and used that as leverage to pull himself ever closer to her, his other detaching from its wrapped position around her ankle so he could move it upward, fingertips craving the feeling of more of her soft skin beneath them.

Meanwhile, she watched him with a curiosity of her own, taking in with a vast gratitude unknown to the man just beneath her the details of his person, from the freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose, to those that rested upon his shoulders, all the way up to the curve of his brow and the way that his black locks looked when slicked back from both the water and the way he had inevitably run his hands through them.

"Not quite."

Loki answered, his voice low and still slightly thickened by his semi-recently halted slumber, though those eyes of his swam with a subtle amusement that betrayed how much he and his lover's conjoined time in the bathing quarters had energized him.

"I simply desired to ensure that I wasn't still dreaming."

He continued, expression remaining slightly awe-filled as he looked up at her from the waters not far below, his once less occupied hand coming to rest upon her previously bent leg, which was now lowered alongside the other into the water as she continued to sit upon the bath's edge, his fingers kissing her damp flesh with a well known gentleness that had her sighing out softly, a small smile finding her lips.

He watched her with such fondness, such peace that not so long ago, she would have thought was entirely unknown to him, and he had believed he would never find nor understand.

How wrong they had been.

And how grateful they were for that fact now that they each knew the touch of the other, the love of them.

And as she looked into her darling prince's eyes she was reminded of that love, even as she could not help but smile at his familiar dramatics, her hand reaching down to curl some of his hair behind his ear, allowing her touch to linger briefly upon his jaw before she moved back once more.

"And why would you think yourself still slumbering, my dear?"

She wondered aloud, half anticipating a peaceful silence to follow, only to find herself pleased when Loki's all consuming voice filled the room shortly afterward.

"Have you ever seen your love illuminated by a halo of morning sunlight?"

He questioned gently, his hands still creeping ever upward, now resting upon her knees as he awaited her response with a patience that felt foreign to her when acted out by him, though she certainly did not complain.

As her reply to her prince's immensely endearing question, she hummed, watching the way that the sun cast its light upon him in an almost ethereal manner, reminding her once more of his nature.

She smiled,

"I believe that I have. Quite often, in fact."

Loki's expression of adoration continued as he watched her fondly, a slight smile finding his perfect lips, curving them upward in that manner his love adored so ceaselessly.

"I see."

He drawled slowly, fingers massaging slow circles into her lower thighs all the while,

"Then surely you can understand why I've been enraptured so."

He reasoned, placing a gentle kiss to the side of her knee as he watched for her reaction, noting the way that she shivered slightly beneath his touch, still not quite used to him, even after years of his hands lovingly caressing her skin at each and every opportunity.

He selfishly hoped, in that moment, that she might not ever come to be, just so he could continue to bear witness to the way that her body, mind, and soul reacted to his affections forevermore.

In response to Loki's gentle words and teasing ministrations, his love sighed contentedly, her flesh reacting as if chilled in spite of the warm water still lapping at her ankles.

She allowed herself a moment to bask in the closeness of him before reaching to cup his jaw again with a smile, tracing the now abandoned path of a droplet of water that had made its way from his hair down to the bridge of his nose, where it had spilled over the side and ran along his cheekbone before ultimately losing momentum and fading to nothingness in the warmth of sunlight, leaving only a faint shimmer of dampness in its wake.

She watched him for a few moments, eyes looking fearlessly and familiarly into those ever softening blues until finally, she spoke up once more, seemingly having gotten her fill of the peaceful silence.

"I suppose that I can, yes."

She replied to his previous statement, fingers moving from his cheek down to his jaw where they traced the sharpness of it gently, as if afraid it might truly cut, or perhaps as a woman in love might do to the object of her affections.

Perhaps so, indeed.

The younger prince hummed happily in response to her touch, something akin to a purr rumbling deep in his chest as he pushed as close as to her as he could manage, both hands moving to her knees in order to place the backs of them upon his muscular shoulders, thus allowing him to them wrap his arms around them from below, his long and lithe fingers finding firm purchase upon her thighs as he did so, pulling her ever closer to the edge of the bathing pool,

closer to him.

And though he was certain that she had noticed, his darling did not complain, simply watching Loki with an amused gleam in her eye as he leaned his head against her thigh, expression almost dreamy as he watched her, taking in the vision of beauty that she was, now doused fully in the morning sunlight.

"Perfection."

He murmured gently, fingers dancing upon her skin as he pressed kiss after kiss to the thigh on which his head rested. And though she felt his smile as he did so, growing almost imperceptibly with each individual graze of his lips, she did not know why until he pulled away from her ever so slightly.

"Although,"

He began to say upon doing just that, eyes finding hers once more, allowing her to see the familiar sparkle of mischief that shone there,

"I do believe this means we have a problem, darling."

His voice was all but a purr now, low and rumbling with a certain level of mock concern to it that made his dearest love flounder slightly, gaze locked with his own as if the two of them were in contest with one another for who could see into the other's soul first.

Not that she could ever stand a chance, not against him.

"You see,"

Loki continued, both sets of his fingers pressing into the supple skin of her thighs as he massaged his way upward, eyes never leaving hers all the while, her body having long since been memorized by his hands.

"Perfection is meant to be worshiped."

He murmured, moving his head slightly to press a kiss to her opposite thigh before he pinched at the former deftly, causing his lover to gasp and jump slightly beneath him, a blush growing evident upon her cheeks.

He chuckled at her reaction, humming low in his throat as he continued to press his soft lips to her flesh, allowing them to linger long enough that there was no question of what his touch was meant to convey.

Gentleness, affection, love, desire, and a constant and heady hunger, one that all but drove him to madness each time he laid eyes upon his beloved.

Her breaths shuddered in response to his persistent touch, and she allowed their locked gazes to break as she leaned her head back upon her shoulders, fingers gripping tightly to the lip of the pool as she did her best to find her voice once more, having lost it upon the very moment his lips had pressed against her, as she always did.

"Are you saying that you wish to worship me, Prince Loki?"

She breathed out after several long seconds of silence, chest heaving slightly as she finally allowed her eyes to open once more, finding his almost immediately as he smirked against her upper thigh, his hands having moved to massage the outsides of them soothingly, keeping them poised atop his shoulders so he could control just how spread they remained for him.

He shook his head in response to her words, tutting slightly before nipping where she had expected him to present her with a kiss, causing her to gasp yet again as he chuckled and lapped gently at her soft flesh with that typically oh so sharp tongue of his.

"Oh no, dear heart."

He purred, spreading her thighs even wider in order to gain a proper view of her arousal, knowing all too well the blush that was no doubt ravaging her cheeks just outside of his view in response.

He leaned in further, ignoring the urge to lay his gaze upon her disastrously beautiful face as he pressed a gentle kiss to her bare heat, smirking to himself as he felt her begin to tremble impatiently as he did so.

He had spoiled her throughout the years, after all, never one to make her wait when she made her desire for him so plainly known. And he was truly quite proud of what a mess he had made of her once so vast patience, because what else did that show if not how wonderfully he'd treated her? How high he'd set her standards simply by virtue of ravaging her at nearly every available opportunity?

She was all but ruined for anyone else, that was for certain.

And if the prince had his way (as he so frequently did), that would never even come close to changing.

He laughed softly against her as he continued, his tongue moving up and down the outsides of her folds as he teased her relentlessly, always so eager to see her squirm at least a little before he gave her what she wanted.

He was not, after all, known for being the kindest nor the most merciful god,

And he could never quite resist the urge to remind his lover of that fact, even if just for a moment or two.

And that he did, ignoring her increasing number of quiet pleas as he pressed onward, spreading her wider before him as he separated her glistening folds to find the treasure that lied just within, which he teased without mercy until her legs shook upon his shoulders and her hands started to scramble for purchase atop the marble adorned floors of his bathing quarters.

Then, and only then, as she so plainly became a quivering mess before him, did he finally meet her gaze once more, relishing the look of her glazed over eyes, heaving chest, and slightly parted lips with a truly immense sense of pride.

The vision of her like this all for him was always so very worth the wait, and he thanked the stars that he had been blessed with enough patience to manage it (at least on occasion).

And then finally, as he saw her eyes begin to focus and felt her body relax ever so slightly beneath the coaxing of his still massaging hands, he spoke up again, answering his darling's long since abandoned question with a taunting amount of ease.

"I do not wish to worship you,"

He began, grinning wolfishly up at her as he pinched at those supple thighs once more, dragging his fingers achingly close to where she no doubt desired them without ever even considering the idea of going easy on her just yet.

No, not when he still had so much left to say.

He let a heavy silence fill the bathing quarters for a moment, broken up only by the sounds of his love's breathing and the dripping of water from behind him, always present and typically soothing in the normal circumstances of his morning bath.

Though today, he paid them no mind,

He had no need to be calmed, after all.

And then finally, just as his dearest love started to bite her lip in an effort to keep from pleading with her prince to give her more, he continued, bringing a finger up to circle her entrance as he did so, allowing him to revel in the sight of her arching her back for him, pressing ever closer in spite of the all too real threat of tumbling into the water alongside him.

She'd had very little desire to get wet that morning according to the excuse she had given him earlier on when asked through pouting lips why she would not join her lover in the bath.

Though, Loki supposed, it seemed as if he had ruined any goal she had of staying dry long ago, so perhaps she cared far less for such trivialities now.

He did not bother to ask, and instead chose to continue his now well drawn out statement from before.

"You see, my dear,"

He started, gathering some of her wetness onto his middle finger as he continued, enjoying the sounds of her whimpering beneath him far too much for his own well-being, let along hers.

"It is much more of a need, I'm afraid."

He purred softly, a false pout finding his lips even as he pushed his finger into her slick entrance, fighting back a groan as she all but sucked him in, always so ready to take whatever it was that he was willing to give her.

He chuckled as she cried out in response, her head falling back to her shoulders once more as he began to pump a single long and dexterous finger in and out of her ceaselessly, adding in a second just as she started to wiggle her hips in that silent request for more.

"What a good girl you are."

He cooed teasingly, watching while she shivered at the sound of his voice, eyes squeezed shut as she fought to stave off an embarrassingly quick orgasm in response to his ministrations.

He had only just taken her this morning, after all, so how could she ever hope to look him in the eye again if she came so quickly even just after he had taken her upon his mattress?

Still, the prince had every intention of showing her exactly how helpless she was to his every touch, and rather than letting up when seeing her obvious attempts to hold back from letting go for him, he increased the speed of his fingers instead and crooked them upward slightly until he heard her gasp and felt her thighs tighten around his head from where they still resided atop his strong shoulders.

"Oh dear,"

He murmured, feigning surprise as he watched his beloved struggle not to simply give into her pleasures.

"Close already?"

He teased, watching her expression as she whined and writhed for him, his fingers never letting up even as he stretched her further upon adding a third, the feeling of which sent her mind reeling.

He was so good at this, too good, and who was she to deny a prince of what he wanted? Could she truly hope to?

Loki evidently thought not, and remained persistent, pacing his thrusts and ensuring that he was constantly hitting just the right spots inside of her, never one to give a lackluster performance, even so very early in the morning and so soon after his last.

Speaking of which...

"Even after this morning?"

He crooned, continuing his recent thought with even more mock surprise,

"Are you truly so sensitive, my love?"

He asked curiously, just barely holding back a groan as he watched the woman he adored so achingly arch her back even further, pressing ever closer to him, body so very eager to submit, and mind evidently not too far behind.

What a darling sight she made for, laid out and bare before him.

Now all that he had to do, Loki thought with a smirk, was strip her of her pride.

And of course, the best way to do that, was to remind her of exactly who it was that she belonged to, and just how helpless she was to his touch.

"Or, perhaps, is it something else?"

He questioned, leaning down to lick teasingly at her clit as she hissed and whined pitifully in reply, thighs trembling upon his shoulders all the while.

It was a telltale sign that she was close, though he chose not to tease her for that quite yet.

"Could it be your courses?"

Loki teased, knowing all too well exactly where his lover was within her cycle in spite of his questioning,

"Or maybe a preference for my fingers?"

He continued, watching as his darling cried out for him, eyes brimming with tears of pleasure as she grew closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

He chuckled, and, after a moment of thought, decided it was high time that he ended his charade for the time being.

"Or, my dear."

He began, groaning slightly as he felt her clench around his fingers in a way that made his engorged cock envious of their position, his mind suddenly filled with thoughts of her strangling his erection with her tight heat, her body always so eager to pull him in further and keep him there, begging for both of their releases.

Still, even with such rapturous visions flooding his mind, he managed to continue speaking, determined to remind her of why it was that she could cum so very quickly even so soon after their last tryst.

"Could it simply be how weak you are to my every touch?"

He purred, his voice devastatingly low and his eyes trained on hers as he spoke,

"How desperate you are,"

He continued, thrusting his fingers harder just to hear her cry out from beneath him,

"To feel my hands upon your flesh, and to hear my voice as I fuck you with whatever I so please into oblivion. Is that what it is?"

He growled, watching with immense pride as she threw her head back one final time upon hearing his words, her walls clenching around his fingers as she came hard only minutes after he had begun, encouraging a chuckle from her lover soon afterward when he finally pulled away, bringing his hand up to his mouth to fully taste her for the first time that morning as he gazed deep into her eyes, a moan of pleasure falling eagerly off of his lips all the while.

She blushed in response to this, but did not look away, her pride still just intact enough that she refused to let him get the better of her once more.

Loki remained like that for several rather long moments, savoring the taste of her until his fingers were clean, finally prompting him to remove them from his mouth so he could speak to her once more, though his words were no less teasing then than they'd been before.

"So, my darling."

He began, smirking as he rested his hand upon her thigh again,

"Do you have any qualms with me continuing to worship my dearest love upon this fine morning?"

He purred, his eyes lighting up eagerly when she swallowed thickly, shaking her head no in response just as he tightened his grip upon her legs.

"Perfect."

Loki replied casually, a glint of mischief entering his gaze once again just as a smirk fell to his lips.

And then, with a gentle tug, his love was falling into the water alongside him, pressed not long after to the wall of the bathing pool as his aching and engorged cock rubbed against her, all too eager to finally settle the score his fingers had recently turned in their favor.

It was no matter of course, they had all morning after all.

And an eternity after that.

Tags: @mischief2sarawr @ladymischief11 @lokisgoodgirl @superficialdomina @muddyorbsblr @villainousshakespeare @redfoxwritesstuff @buttercupcookies-blog

Note: If you would like to be added to/removed from being tagged in anything please feel more than free to let me know! <3

[epsilbunny]

"Look at me~" a Loki x reader smut

Summery: one evening you and Loki have your usual meet up, you both talk, always finding release from both of your stress when you talk. This evening something sparks between you two more than normal and things become more aroused and heated leading to both of you giving into your desires.

[soulpiercing]

If I were asked my favorite Loki fic, or if I were asked to recommend the best Loki fic, it would be this one. Still ongoing, and is a masterpiece. If you haven’t read this yet, then I hope you see this and give it a read. I PROMISE you will not be disappointed.

I’m currently reading again for the 5th time, because it is just that good.

@tilltheendwilliwrite

#loki #lokific #lokismut #blessingsofmagic #lokificrecommendations #tilltheendwilliwrite

[mochie85]

I am glad you made These Wicked Games Collection.

awe my dear @eleniblue 💚💚💚

You have been such a superstar to me. You always support and love my work. Thank you, babes! 🥰🥰🥰 You have no idea how much kindness and comfort that has given me. Thank you!

I'm glad too. After "To Have and To Hold" (which was completely angst-ridden) I wanted to go on a different route and make something completely smut-ridden.

😈😈😈

Working on the next chapter of "These Wicked Games" right now: Truth or Dare.

[joyful-enchantress]

On the Naughty List (18+) | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: Everyone has been so welcoming and kind and encouraging with my first fic that I decided to try my hand at another one! This is also my first try with smut, so apologies if it is awkward at all. I hope you like it! It is another installment in the Winter Warmers Collection curated by @lokisgoodgirl

Genre/Warnings: Smut (18+), soft(ish) Dom!Loki, here be filth, some fluff too, established relationship, language, restraints, spanking, nipple play (clamps), temperature play, edging/orgasm delay, begging, oral f!receiving, choking (if you squint)

Word Count: 4377

"Stop, Loki! Ahhhhh, stop, please!" you shrieked wildly as Loki playfully but mercilessly pelted you with icy snowballs.

You loved seeing him like this, completely lost in a moment of carefree fun. His eyes were alight with that familiar glint of mischief and the midday rays reflecting off the surrounding snow seemed to dance across his porcelain skin. He was beautiful. And he was yours. An arrogant smile slowly melted into his features as he responded to your request for a ceasefire.

"What's the matter, darling? Can't handle everything I have to offer?" he quipped with a wink.

Damn him and his relentless innuendo. A slight blush crept across your cheeks at his words.

"Oh, I know I can handle all of you, Laufeyson. I've done it many times before," you decided to give it right back to him. "What I can't handle is any more snowballs to the face or soaking through my coat. Not all of us have an endless tolerance for cold, you know!"

Given Loki's heritage, he required no protective outerwear during your childish winter antics. Not that you truly minded -- it meant you got to enjoy a better view of those sinful hands of his, the long, elegant fingers flexing dexterously as he packed the glittering snow into nearly perfect spheres. But, perhaps, his affinity for the cold did give him an unfair advantage in this case.

"I can think of several things I could do to warm you right up, love. Things I could do with my fingers..." he twirled his delectable digits seductively and nearly had you drooling. "...or my mouth..." his skillful tongue peered through the curtains that were his luscious lips and slowly swiped along his top lip just before he smirked knowingly and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. "...or my cock."

Had the temperature suddenly risen? Your thighs clenched together involuntarily, your body already yearning for the sweet friction, and the slightest whimper escaped your lips at his salacious words.

He paced towards you, closing the distance until there was none left, and his warm breath was fanning across your neck as he bent to whisper in your ear.

"Although," he continued, "judging by your reaction thus far, I could probably keep you warm with my words alone." His voice seemed to drop an octave, and assumed that familiar huskiness that he reserved only for you in your most private moments with him. "Maybe we should test the theory, hmm? Would you like that, darling?" His tongue darted out to lick the shell of your ear.

"Yes, Loki..." you breathed, your own voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let's be done with our game and go inside. I need you."

"As you wish, my love," he placed a wet kiss along your jawline. "Follow me."

He began the short walk back to the cozy home the two of you shared, his broad back to you. The wet spots he left on your ear and jaw began to sting in the frigid winter air. You absent-mindedly reached up to soothe the ache with your gloved fingertips, and as you turned to admire the way the dark jeans he was wearing hugged his perfect ass as he strode towards the house, the temptation was too great. You simply could not resist.

THWAK!

A perfectly thrown snowball hit him in the back of the head, bursting into a flurry of snow that clung to his ebony curls and drifted down his neck and across his back.

"Oh you're in for it now, pet." He turned around, ever so slowly, his lips upturned into a menacing smile and his emerald eyes burning with the promise of what was to come.

You decided to play right into his hands.

"Have I earned a spot on the naughty list, Sir?"

He gazed back at you with a hungry expression, his pupils dilating with lust; you knew the effect that particular word had on him. He began stalking towards you, like a predator cornering his prey.

"That goes without saying, Y/N. Your misbehavior is simply unacceptable. Now, do you know what happens to naughty girls?"

He was right in front of you once again, towering over you and looking down his nose directly into your eyes.

"They don't get any presents?" you suggest with feigned innocence.

"They must be punished." he declared with such authority, it left no room for argument.

"Oh really? Just what exactly do you -- AHH!"

Before you could even finish your snarky response, he had you draped over his shoulder, your eyes staring at his perfect backside and his strong arm flexed behind your knees, holding you in place. His other hand rose up to give your unsuspecting bottom a warning smack.

"No more questions, darling. You're in enough trouble as it is."

He carried you inside, kicking off his shoes along the way, and before you knew it, he was tossing you on the plush bed like a ragdoll. The deep emerald-colored satin sheets twisted in your fingertips as you stared up, wide-eyed, at your husband; gone from his face was the carefree playfulness and in its place was a stern demeanor. There was no question who was in charge here. And you loved it.

With a snap of his fingers, a blanket of green light engulfed your body and every scrap of clothing you had been wearing disappeared. Loki, still fully clothed, hovered over you, caging you in and bringing his face within inches of yours.

"Now let's go over the rules, shall we?" he trailed, his voice dripping with lust and power, "Rule number one, you will refer to me only as Sir. You will not call me by my name unless and until I command it. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," you gasped, barely audible over the hammering of your own heart.

"Good girl." He reached a hand down and began stroking your breast, eventually rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Rule number two, you will do as I say, without question or hesitation. I do not like to repeat myself. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, Sir," you barely suppressed a moan.

"And finally, rule number three..." You whimpered as he tweaked your nipple, hard. "...You do not come until I give you my express permission. I decide whether and when you will have your pleasure, isn’t that right, pet?” his lips curved into a wicked grin as he finished reminding you of the last rule.

“O-of course, Sir,” you gulped, anxiously and eagerly awaiting his next move.

"Now, do you remember your safe word, darling?" his eyes momentarily softened as he asked you, ever your loving and devoted husband, making sure you knew you were safe and loved.

"Yes, Sir. Red," you assured him with a breathy whisper.

"Good." The fleeting moment of softness had passed, his expression shifting back to one of unrelenting dominance, emerald eyes alight with thoughts of the diabolical plans he had for you. "Let's begin."

His hand rose from your breast up over your collarbone to its final destination around your neck, giving it a firm squeeze as he captured your lips in a ferocious kiss; it was all tongues and teeth as he invaded your mouth, claiming what was his with urgency. Eventually, he allowed you to catch your breath and he trailed his lips down your jawline, to suck and nip at your pulse point as you lay there panting.

"I want you to kneel on the bed, facing the headboard." he rasped against your ear before rising up off the bed to allow you the room to move into position.

You wasted no time, scrambling up so you could obey him and avoid furthering your punishment. As you were twisting around and adjusting yourself into the perfect submissive kneel, you caught a glimpse of him removing his dark emerald sweater, leaving him in the white button-down he was wearing underneath, those damn dark wash jeans, and his socked feet.

He leisurely strode towards the head of the bed and turned to face you, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and beginning to roll up the sleeves to his elbows. You bit your lip, the sight of his forearms flexing as he manhandled the garment enough to send a fresh pool of arousal to your core.

"Hands in front of you, wrists together," he commanded.

As you did so, he conjured a bit of black silken cord -- enough to bind your wrists together tightly while leaving some extra hanging on either side of the intricate knot. Once he was satisfied that the rope would keep you sufficiently restrained, he turned to reach into the nightstand where you kept your toys for nights such as this. You could hear the familiar metallic clink of chains bumping into each other as he pulled a toy out of the drawer. The clamps.

"We haven't played with these in a while, pet," he said with a devilish snarl. "I want you to feel them sway and tug every time I strike that perfect ass of yours."

You couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips at his words. "As you wish, Sir."

He worked your nipples into firm peaks before attaching the clamps to them. You hissed as they bit into your sensitive flesh, providing an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. Before you could fully adjust to the sensation, he was pulling on the extra cord that was hanging from your bound wrists and tying it to the top of the headboard. This forced you to bend forward, head between your arms, ass raised slightly - and presented perfectly - as you remained on your knees. The chain that connected the clamps swayed with your movement, tugging on your sore nipples with each sweeping arc, causing you to moan wantonly.

"Hmmm,” he hummed in approval as he situated himself beside you on the bed, one hand at the small of your back - a reminder to remain in position - the other rubbing and squeezing your bottom, the gentleness a stark contrast to the harsh stings you knew were to come. “My dirty whore of a wife seems to be enjoying herself, and I’ve barely begun,” he chuckled darkly. “You will count each strike aloud, and when I am finished, you will thank me for them. I think 10 strikes ought to do for tonight, pet. Oh, and do remember, you are not allowed to come.”

“Yes, Sir,” you groaned desperately. Before you knew it, the first strike hit your backside with a loud SMACK. Just as he had planned, the chain between your tortured nipples was swaying wildly. “One,” you squeaked.

His hand came down against your ass again, this time on the opposite cheek.

“Two, Sir.” You let out a shaky breath.

The next slap seemed to echo throughout the room.

“Ahhhh! Three, Sir!”

After the third smack, his hand caressed down your backside and his fingers dipped between your soft folds. “Ohh, love. We’re only three strikes in, and you’re absolutely soaking. Do you think you’ll make it?” he asked with feigned concern. You could do nothing but whimper in response. “Oh how I do love those pretty noises you make,” he crooned.

He resumed his work, each smack to your bottom bringing more pain than the last… and sending more arousal straight to your dripping core. After the seventh strike, he moved the hand that had been resting innocently at the small of your back to the chain that was dangling from your breasts and gave a sharp tug.

“Aaaauunnghhh! Please, Sir,” you moaned. Whether you were begging him to stop or to give you more, you didn’t know.

“Shhhhh, pet. Just three more, you’re doing so well for me.” As he soothed you with his words, he moved his hand from the chain to the apex of your thighs, and his fingers easily found your clit, peeking out from its hood and aching for attention. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his hand, shamelessly searching for more friction. “Ah ah ahh, there will be none of that writhing, darling,” he reprimanded you gently. “You will take what I give you and nothing more.”

“Sorry, Sir, I’ll be still,” you promised with a high pitched whine.

He kept his fingers on your clit, lazily playing with the bundle of nerves as he delivered the last three smacks to your bottom. It was just enough to tease you and keep you wanting more, never enough to fully satisfy you. Your frustration was mounting at this point, but deep down you knew you shouldn’t have been so delusional as to hope he’d allow you your release so easily.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, pet?” he mercifully reminded you as he pulled his hand away from your sensitive bud, rubbing soothing circles on your ass cheeks with the same hand he just used to blister them.

“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you, Sir, for spanking me.” you managed to coerce your tongue into forming the words despite your frazzled brain.

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed softly and with a snap of his fingers, the bindings disappeared and you collapsed forward onto the bed, limp and spent, but unbearably aroused. He quickly was at your side, and gently helped you to roll over onto your back. Finally, you could see his stunningly beautiful face again. His features had settled back into those of your loving husband, warmth and softness radiating from within. Stroking your cheek gently with his thumb, he bent down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that sent a fire straight to your core.

Loki diligently massaged your wrists and shoulders, helping to soothe the ache from your restraints; he then moved his attention to your breasts. “I’m going to remove these now, darling. One at a time. I know it will be intense but it will only last for a moment,” he whispered.

You winced and cried out as he removed each clamp, his warm mouth quick to softly caress each aching bud with his tongue and soothe the sting.

“What’s your color, Y/N?” he asked you gently, his gaze meeting yours, eyes swirling with concern and love for you — only you.

“Green, Sir. So Green.”

“Excellent.” His emerald orbs reignited with salacious promises and his lips twisted into a wicked grin. Gone again was the softness he had momentarily uncovered. “Then we’ll move into the next phase of your punishment.”

Bring it on, you thought to yourself, but all you managed outwardly was a cheeky smile.

He must have been losing patience for doing things manually, because with a flick of his wrist and a twirl of his elegant finger, more restraints appeared, securing you to the bed. This time, they were black fur-lined leather cuffs -- one around each wrist and one around each ankle. The leather straps connected to the cuffs ran across the mattress, off the sides, and under the bed, where they were secured. This ensured that you wouldn't be going anywhere, and that your legs were spread nice and wide for him; you couldn’t close them even if you wanted to. You also noted that your arms and shoulders were in a different position, not stretched over your head -- and he kept a small amount of slack so that you could adjust and rotate your shoulders if you needed to, so as not to strain your muscles to the point of pain. Your husband thought of everything.

As he strode once again to the night stand and began looking for the toy he needed for your next wave of delicious torment, you noticed his prominent manhood straining against his tight jeans, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself knowing the effect you had on him. Your smile quickly melted away into a mixture of primal lust and shaky nerves as you saw what he pulled out of the drawer, though. The magic wand and the large glass dildo.

“Now, pet, I’ve got to go downstairs and take care of something,” he began as he set the glass dildo down on the bench at the foot of the bed, within easy reach, and clicked the wand on to the lowest setting. “I shouldn’t be gone for more than ten minutes, but I wouldn’t want you getting bored in my absence, so this should keep you occupied while I’m gone.” He placed the wand firmly against your throbbing clit and you couldn’t suppress the wanton moan that escaped your lips at the feeling. It would never be enough to give you release on this setting, it would only tease you and amplify your arousal, but damn if it didn’t feel so good. A wave of emerald light surrounded the wand, and you immediately knew he had enchanted it so that it would remain in place, no matter how much you bucked and squirmed. There was also no doubt in your mind that it would disappear immediately should you utter your safe word — the restraints, too, probably. You were always safe with him, even if he left you alone in the room to bask in the sweet torture he inflicted on you.

His hungry eyes raked over your naked body — bound and writhing — and his gaze met yours with a sinister smile before he departed the bedroom to head downstairs.

It felt like the longest ten minutes of your life. The wand was unrelenting, keeping you dangling on the edge of release, but never allowing you to fall over into bliss. No matter how you tried to grind your hips to increase the friction just enough to topple you over the edge, it was no use. Loki’s enchantment kept the wand exactly where he wanted it.

So lost were you in the sensation and the struggle for your orgasm, that you didn’t notice when he returned. That is, until the wand disappeared with a snap of his fingers, causing you to whine at the loss and open your eyes to the sight of your breathtaking husband, leaning casually against the dresser with a mug of steaming hot beverage in his hand; he was drinking in the sight of you, so desperate for the release only he could grant you. His eyes were burning with lust.

“Aren’t you going to welcome me back, pet?” he asked with a teasing smirk.

The asshole.

“Welcome back, Sir,” you managed to mutter between pants.

“That’s more like it.” He took a large gulp of the hot liquid — hot cocoa, you guessed, based on the smattering of foam the swig left on his top lip — and you watched with curiosity as he seemed to hold it in his mouth without swallowing. Setting the mug down on the bench, he picked up the glass dildo that you had all but forgotten about. Your eyes widened when you saw a tinge of blue creep across the skin of his hand, the smooth surface of the glass covered in a blanket of frost.

Without warning, he thrust the icy glass cock into your sopping cunt, the cold surface against your warm inner walls intensifying every sensation as it moved and twisted inside you. The sharp cry that rang from your throat was one of both surprise and unabashed primal lust. You saw his Adam’s apple bob sinfully as he finally swallowed the steaming liquid that was in his mouth, just before he winked at you and lowered his lips to latch around your neglected clit.

“Ohhhhh, Sir, ye- yesssss.” The stark contrast of the frigid length inside you and his warm mouth sucking and lapping at your sensitive bud was nearly too much to handle. You had enjoyed the skilled labor of your husband’s silver tongue many times before, but this was something entirely different. You could barely catch your breath, let alone form a coherent sentence.

“Mmmm…” he moaned salaciously, sending vibrations directly to your core. The familiar coil in your belly was winding tighter, threatening to snap into an earth-shattering orgasm. Just… a tiny… bit… more…

“…’m gonna come, Sir!” You whispered between whimpers and pants.

But he stopped. The frosted dildo and his mouth were both removed from your core. You whined desperately, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes at the loss, your impending orgasm ebbing away.

“You didn’t think you’d get release so soon, did you? Naughty girls don’t get to come so easily.” Loki’s eyes were ablaze with a ravenous hunger; you could see his lips and chin glistening with your sweet nectar, the flickering light of the candle in the corner of the room dancing across his face now, as the sun had set since the start of your debauched activities. He bent down to kiss you, his lips and tongue unrelenting against yours; you moaned at the taste of your arousal on his lips.

As he pulled away, allowing you both to catch your breath, you saw him refrost the glass toy and reach again for the mug to take another swig of hot cocoa into his mouth. Before you could protest, both had resumed their delectable torment, the icy tip of the dildo circling your aching clit before dipping inside you and being replaced with his hot mouth.

“Please, Sir,” you pleaded as he fucked you with the cold, hard dildo and swirled his hot tongue around your bundle of nerves. He reached one hand up to your breast, rolling and tweaking a pebbled nipple before switching to pay the same attention to the other hardened peak. Within minutes, you were there again, you could almost taste your impending orgasm. And again he stopped.

“Ohhh, pet, you taste sweeter than this cocoa,” he huskily groaned. “And look at you, so needy and desperate for me. Do you want release?” You whimpered and nodded your head as urgently as you could manage. “If you come tonight, it will be on my cock. And I want you to beg for it.”

His clothes disappeared in a flash of green light, leaving the entirety of his glorious form bare to your gaze for the first time that night. You slowly raked you eyes across every inch of him, admiring the way his lean muscles rippled and flexed underneath his perfect skin as he moved, and counting your lucky stars that he was yours.

“Please, Sir, pleeeeease give me your cock. I need it. I need you. Please make me come, Sir.” you shamelessly panted and begged, desperate for him and for the sweet release only he could give you.

He hovered over you on the bed; you could feel his rigid length against your thigh, the tip angry and red. He was just as desperate for release as you were. Bracing his weight on one forearm, he snaked the other hand across your collarbone with a featherlight touch before it settled firmly around your throat as he kissed you hungrily. So lost were you in the passion of the kiss that you barely noticed as he lined himself up at your entrance. With one perfectly angled thrust, he finally entered you, filling you to the hilt. Your breath hitched against his mouth; no matter how many times you took him, the sheer size of him ensured that the first few strokes would always take your breath away.

“You don’t have to wait any longer, darling.” He rasped against your ear as he began to thrust, rutting his hips against you with each stroke, the wiry curls at the base of his cock brushing against your clit. “Don’t hold back, and I won’t stop this time. Let yourself go and let me hear you when you topple over into bliss. Say my name as you come.”

It didn’t take long at all for you to reach the precipice, the coil at the base of your abdomen tightening almost immediately after the edging you had already endured. You were a panting, moaning mess while he worshipped you, trailing wet kisses along your neck and collarbone. His rhythm was becoming sloppier, and you knew he was close too.

“Ohhh Loki, yes, YESSS!” you gasped as the coil snapped, your inner walls squeezing him like a vice as you finally came, the earth-shattering orgasm causing your entire body to shake. “Yes, Loki. Loki…” You chanted his name like a mantra.

Before you had come down from your high, he came too, spilling his hot seed into you with a grunt. “Who do you belong to, love?”

“You, Loki, only you.”

Once his load was spent, he collapsed on top of you, your sweaty skin sliding against his own. The restraints immediately disappeared and you wrapped your arms around him as you both panted, coming down from your highs together.

“I love you, my darling wife,” he murmured against your ear a few moments later, before he placed a chaste kiss to your lips and rose from the bed. “Now let me take care of you.”

“I love you too, Loki…” you trailed, your mind still swimming in euphoria.

Loki got up and tended to you, bringing you a glass of water and helping you sit up to drink it, the cold liquid refreshing your parched throat. Then, he cleaned up the mess between your legs with his seidr and lifted you off the bed, carrying you bridal style into the en-suite bathroom and lowering you gently into the bathtub that he had already filled with hot water and your favorite lavender bath oil. He knelt beside the tub and kissed you tenderly, his elegant fingers wrapping through your tousled hair, thumb brushing your cheek lovingly. How lucky you were that he was yours.

“I’ll go down and start a fire, my love,” he said, eyes brimming with adoration. “After you’re finished in the bath, come downstairs and I thought we could snuggle on the couch, enjoy some hot cocoa, and watch a movie. I know that’s your favorite thing to do in the winter.”

“You’re wrong about that, Loki.” His lips turned down into a frown at your words, his brows knitting together in confusion. With a beaming smile creeping across your face, you finished, “You’re my favorite thing to do in the winter.”

[lady-rose-moon]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Selected List:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[psychospore]

Popsicle

Inspired by @lokisgoodgirl's Cooldown (sorry it took a while! I was using my phone the whole time. :( )

If you like more Loki fics, check out my Masterlist

Summary: Loki helps you feel cool in the midst of the unbearable heat

Pairing: Jotun!Loki x F!reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, minors DNI, established relationship

It was approaching Summer, and with the heat rising up, you started to slowly shed the layers of your clothing.

It was nothing of concern to Loki when you sit up with your legs up the kitchen island, or when you have a seat with one of your knees up, legs spread wide on the couch or when you bend over with your ass high up to reach for random things under the counter with your thick winter clothing.

You were easily cold as you were easily hot from the weather and he couldn't say the same now that he saw you in the same circumstances only wearing a thin tank top accentuating your nipples and equally thin skimpy shorts with no underwear underneath. He could barely contain the bulge wanting to break out from its confines.

It was horribly hot that day which made it more unbearably hotter when he saw you licking and sucking a popsicle, taking it all in your mouth as your cheeks hollowed and all drenched in sweat. Almost leaving nothing to the eyes as your sweat makes the thin layers of your clothing almost transparent. Your hair was in a messy bun and Loki's thoughts strayed so far into thinking all the ways he could do to you.

You caught him staring in front of you, initially you didn't care what you wore. You were a carefree soul and didn't really mind your clothing as the unbearable heat took precedence over everything. But his lust-filled eyes made you blush.

"hey, care to join?" you asked him out of nowhere, offering a half-eaten popsicle.

He took the popsicle and finished it - hoping the satiate the growing heat in him too when he noticed you pouting.

"I didn't realize you'd actually take it. Now I need to find something again to help cool me off," you were hand-fanning yourself as you responded.

Loki's naughty side got the better of him as he inched closer to your face, "That won't be necessary. I hope you didn't forget that I'm Jotun dear,"

He went down and caressed your inner thighs as his cold fingers quenched the heat there. You saw him transform in his Jotun form, a much larger build with magnificent hues of blue covering his body along with intricate markings and paired with ruby eyes.

Your eyes went wide with surprise but before you could react, he ripped your flimsy shorts out, and spread your legs only to see a slick mound, almost gesturing to be soothed by his coldness.

You tried closing your legs in embarrassment but his grip on your thighs were stronger, "please, I'm all sweaty. I'm embarrassed to have you go down on me without showering first," you mumbled as you cup your face with your hands.

He inched closer, cold breath grazing your aching mound as he was met by your intoxicating scent, "Don't be darling, this is perfect. You are perfect"

Your hips bucked up as he licked a cold thick stripe on your entrance. It was so good how his cold tongue soothes the radiating heat from your core. He started sucking and darting his tongue in and around before shoving his fingers inside your entrance. You felt like melting every time he pulsed his slender fingers inside you, circling your reddended clit and hitting all the right places.

Your mind went blank as a wave of orgasm washed over you as your eyes rolled back screaming Loki's name. Warm liquid pooling out and drenching your lover's face and fingers which he thoroughly licks clean.

He was not done though, he took off his clothing only to reveal a huge cock, all hard and waiting for you to take in your tiny mouth. You questioned yourself if this could even be inside you. He slowly guided himself towards your mouth, you could taste his cold precum as you started licking the tip.

Like a popsicle, you started sucking and licking his gargantuan dick which caused him to gyrate his hips and moan your name. You almost gagged as his member rams through your warm throat.

He flipped you to face the couch, and removed your top. You were now grabbing the top of the couch as you bent over your ass towards him.

He slowly inserts the tip of his cock inside your still dripping pussy. You spread your legs a bit more to accommodate his girth and he sinks into you inch by inch until he is balls deep.

He grabs you by the waist and slowly thrust, making sure you are comfortable with the pace. You winced and Loki made it feel better by cupping your warm breasts with his cold hands, flicking your nipples as you let out a whimper.

As you got comfortable, he started playing with your clit, his cold hands causing you to feel different sensations.

"Loki, I'm about to cum," you whimpered, you almost straddling his lap as bounce on top of his lap. His cock cooling your hot core with every second of contact

He was holding you close to his body now. His hands swarmed your body to make sure everything is soothed from the heat.

"Cum together with me, darling." His cold breath whispered to your ears.

Another wave of orgasm hit you as you felt a cold wave of his ejaculation against your walls. You didn't know if you shuddered from the cold or from the the mind-blowing orgasm he just gave you.

He slowly pulled out of you, cock slicked with both of your fluids. He conjured a fleece blanket and covered your both naked body and he brings you to the comfort room to clean you both up.

You surely fell asleep from heat and sex exhaustion. Loki planted a kiss on your forehead as he carried you.

[waterhashiragiyuu]

Loki X Fem! READER

Trigger :choking but in a gentle way

I woke up this morning thinking about our last time together. I am rolling around in my bed and i can't make myself neither fall back asleep or get up and start my day. All i can think of is how you called me beautiful as i was enjoying your body exploring mine. I can feel my naked skin under warm soft blankets, i can feel myself thirsting for your touch and words again. Getting aroused by your memory.

I am slowly using my hand to feel my wet core, surprised at how needing of you it is.

At that moment you are entering the apartment. Staring at my naked body, half way covered by blankets. You are approaching and gently petting my skin. From my cheek, down my neck, touches soft and light like petals, almost tickling. While you look deep into my eyes, you are playing with my nipples softly moving them up and down, then in circles. From pleasure i cant bare to keep my eyes open. I am starting to moan in a shy manner,wishing that i could do it louder. But i am afraid that my neighbors might hear me. But honestly, fuck them, once they woke me up by fucking loudly at 3 am.So what if they her me this time in 7 am...

Your hand is so gracefully gliding down my waist, down my stomach, teasing my core just a little. Just a little but more then enough to make me wanting you more. You are grabbing my soft thighs. I am curving my back at the pleasure of your touch. I know that i can't take it much more, but i want this to last. You are giving full attention to my clitoris now, and in a wave of pleasure i can hear you say :"say my name'.

I am feeling ashamed yet turned on and curious. I am looking at your eyes seductively yet innocent. Are you sure? You want that? I am smirking. Knowing very well that I want that too, i am just pretending. Another strong wave of pleasure overwhelms my body and i cant help but to close my eyes again and moan.

I can feel your masculine hand moving inbetween my boobs and grabbing my neck firm but gentle, while my head is falling backwards with a louder moan. I thought that i would reach my peak that very moment , but i managed not to.

-Say my name.

Another pleasure wave washes over me and this time,that is it and i know it, i couldn't contain it anymore.

As strong orgasm is shaking my body and my ears are ringing, your hand on my small neck holding me in my ecstacy... I gather courage to say out loud :... Loki!!!.. Loki!!!

After that great orgasm, in shame how much i enjoyed it i turn on my stomach and giggle. While waving my legs in the air playfully. Now this is the memory of you that i keep thinking of while i roll in my bed in early mornings.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Like a Queen [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just a dirty, praise-filled railing. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Loki x Female Reader. Mirrors. Language. Established relationship. Smut. (w/c 1.2k)

"Urgh, gods..." Loki slurs as his head falls back.

A year. It's been a year. But every time you see that face lost in the pleasure only you can give it's like the first time. In the mirror at the foot of the bed, the hard angles of Loki's jawline set like an anvil. He tips his chin to the ceiling and sinks so deep, so slow, it's like he never wants it to end.

Your best lingerie clings to damp skin, the modest slit in your crotchless panties tugging against Loki's thick cock. Slow, liquid thrusts slip against your walls and slurp when he circles his hips; hands guiding your ass against him. He teases himself at the entrance while you moan his name before easing back in with a groan.

"What did I do..." he breathes as his sex-drunk face falls forward and he meets your eyes in the mirror. "What did I do to deserve this sweet, perfect cunt?"

You clench your fingers against the bedsheets, swaying on all-fours. Loki slips his cock from your pussy and slides it against your throbbing clit, still swollen and humming from the worship of his mouth.

He watches with dark fascination as you start to squirm at the halt of his movements, knuckles whitening. “Well?” he asks again with playful menace.

"I'm just made for you I guess," you sigh as his large palm skates down the ridges of your spine, settling at the base. There’s no getting any sense out of you at times like this; he should know that by now. And he does.

"You are,” he growls approvingly, rubbing the curve of your ass. “Made to take me like a Queen. Made to take my cock like a Queen; made to fuck me like a Queen.” Queen.

The word sends a thrill down your spine that blossoms new fire in your pussy and you clench tighter around the tip of his cock. Loki pushes back in just when you’re tightest. “Norns,” he gasps, half-lidded eyes smouldering down from his station.

There’s something about when he fucks you from behind that’s utterly primal. Like he’s mating you. Like you’re a bitch in heat and he’s powerless to resist the scent he craves; the urge beating through him like the drums of war.

He’s not a god in moments like this. He’s just a man that wants to shake you up and fuck you out and love you harder with every filthy, curse-laden groan from his throat. “Talk to me,” you plead as you sit back against him, inhaling the fresh sweat clinging to his hair, his cock never leaving the grip of your cunt. Where he belongs. Your fingers skate up his cheek. His heartbeat thumps between your shoulder-blades, the flat planes of his chest and stomach pressed tight to your back. Your thighs spread as he readjusts on the mattress, guiding you down to the root of him with a rumble of pleasure. Loki moves hair from one side of your neck, placing a messy kiss on the curve and pulling the flimsy strap of your lingerie between his teeth. It stings your heated skin with a tight thwack.

“You love when I talk,” he goads low and filthy in your ear. “You love when I talk, and you love when I fuck.” “Only me,” you whine. Loki chuckles darkly. “Only you, my Queen.” His thrusts make your body rise and you lose yourself in the fullness of your walls fluttering to the rhythmic lilt of his hips. Loki’s hands massage your breasts, palming upwards, pinching your pebbled nipples as he does it. “No one,” he groans as you reach between your legs and graze his balls, “no one has ever carnally eviscerated me like you can.” They tighten beneath your gentle touch, drawing lazily against the velvet skin.

“When I fuck you… all realms cease to be,' he chokes, 'Only b-burning worlds and…f-fuck, erupting galaxies when I…”

He jolts against your ass, a hiss searing between his teeth. “When I see you trussed up for me like a gift,” he pants, tugging at the flimsy lace cupping your breasts, “when I feel your pussy grip me like wax on a finger.” A wet groan erupts from your mouth into his and Loki’s fingers move to your clit, rubbing slow, wet circles just the way you like it. His kiss is hungry and dark and dangerously loving. He still tastes like your cum. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he mutters as climax tightens in your belly, tensing your thighs, “is your face when you come undone for me.” You whimper, the hand wrapped around his neck clutching at long waves of his sex-damp hair. “Yes, my beautiful queen,” he praises, unable to keep the tremble of impending orgasm from his voice as his thrusts become heavy. “Take me, use me; use my cock like no other in the nine realms can. Give me what I need.” “Not yet,” you beg and he smiles against your cheek. The mirror shows what the two of you are: sweaty and unbearably perfect together. He’s huge behind you; a colossus of muscle and lean lines and luminous skin. His dark hair hangs against your shoulders, his exquisite profile nuzzling into your neck. The god of mischief works one expert hand between your legs, the other grasping against your chest like you might vanish as his powerful thighs pump slowly beneath you. Obsessed. He’s obsessed. Another threat of orgasm rises in your centre. Loki groans loudly and his shoulders tense as you clench, feeling the thick vein running down his length throb. “I think you may take me a little too well,” he chokes as your grip on his hair tightens.

A series of feral grunts burst from Loki’s throat at the smallest increase of speed against his cock. He's ready to burst. Wetness coats the inside of your thighs, his knuckles, his mouth, your fingers. You cover the hand working against your clit, feeling his fingers while they lightly strum you over the edge. He knows your body like it's his own. “Loki,” you moan like a whore, head falling back to his shoulder.   “I’m yours,” he whispers, breath catching. The hand cupping your chest flies to your stomach and he pulls you closer with a stuttering gasp. The flat of his abdomen curls to your back: sweat sticking, curses thundering, stars bursting in front of your eyes. He erupts with a long, guttural groan that shakes the bed. The swell of his cum is immediate; squeezing against the tight throb of his mighty cock and the final, fluttering spasms of your cunt. You see it glistening in the mirror, dripping down the thick root still buried inside you and pearling at the curve of his balls. Loki’s mouth fastens to your cheek like he’s trying to eat you - and maybe he is. His pants are hot against the skin as he slides down your face, top lip dragging before his forehead comes to rest. “What did I do to deserve…?” he pants quietly as he feathers weak kisses along the angle of your jaw. You silence the impending question with a kiss, pulling him closer. “I’m your Queen,” you say with utterly feigned humility. Loki bites his lip, glancing to the mirror. His eyes drop to the sight of him still sheathed deep in your pussy, a thick spindle of cum dangling to the mattress. “You are,” he whispers lovingly in your ear, eyes nailed to yours in the reflection. "Always."

♥️x

[societyfolklore]

Hellcat

Title: Hellcat

Pairing: Loki x Barbarian!Female Reader

Summary:  Captured as a spoil of war, you are dragged before the Asgardian victors-fierce, untamed, unwilling to bow. Meant as a gift for Thor, your defiance amuses him, but he has no desire to take a wild thing like you. Instead, he offers you to Loki as a reward. Shackled and bound in his chambers, the Trickster God promises not to break you-but to tame you.

Word Count:  9k (Yes it is this long, No I’m not sorry)

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI Dub-Con/Non-Con, Power Imbalance, Forced Submission & Domination Themes, Restraints & Bondage, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Possessive!Loki, Dom!Loki, NO BETA A/N:  I FREAKING LOVE THIS ONE!

The scent of war still clung to the air, thick with the metallic tang of blood, the acrid burn of fire, and the musk of sweat. Vanaheim was silent now, its fields ravaged by years of barbarian invasions from the mountains, its people caught between the brutality of their attackers and the intervention of Asgard. The cries of the fallen had long since faded into an eerie stillness, leaving only the flickering of flames and the distant clang of metal as the victors restored order to the realm.

Among those caught in the aftermath was you.

You had fought. Gods, you had fought with everything you had, teeth bared, nails clawing, muscles straining against the bonds they’d wrapped around your wrists. You were more beast than woman in that moment-feral, untamed, driven by rage and survival.

The grand drinking hall was alive with celebration, filled with Asgardian warriors feasting and boasting of their victory. The cacophony of noise filled your ears as you were pulled along, Volstagg and Hogun keeping their grips firm but without malice. The great wooden doors slammed open with a resounding boom, silencing the revelry for but a moment as all eyes turned to the spectacle.

“Thor! She’s been offered as a gift,” Volstagg declared, his voice booming over the gathered crowd. “A token of goodwill from the surviving Warlord himself. A gesture to ensure peace.” They announced as you were pushed in front of the head table.

There was nothing peaceful about you. You twisted in their hold, kicking, snarling, your teeth bared in open defiance. When a warrior reached out to touch you, you snapped your teeth at his fingers, nearly drawing blood. The gathered men laughed, a mixture of amusement and admiration for your spirit.

“She bites,” one of them chuckled.

“She would take your throat if you let her,” Hogun muttered, adjusting his grip as you tried to break free once more.

The torches lining the hall cast flickering shadows over your sweat-slick skin, your hair wild and tangled. You were a spectacle, a display of raw, untamed defiance, and despite the bonds on your wrists and the chain wrapped around your ankle, you held your head high. You would not bow. You would not kneel.

Thor rose from his seat at the head of the table, gaze sweeping over you with the same measured calm he had shown on the battlefield. His voice, steady as ever, carried across the room. “Vanaheim has suffered greatly at the hands of your people,” he stated, his tone neither cruel nor amused. “They burned, pillaged, and destroyed without reason.” He gestured toward you, “Without honour."

He stepped down from the dais, moving closer, though he kept his distance. “And yet,” he continued, meeting your wild gaze, “you fight as though your defiance alone will undo what has been done.”

Thor regarded you with something almost akin to pity before shaking his head. He took another step forward, watching you with that same unreadable calm, and that was when you lunged.

A snarl tore from your throat as you surged toward him, teeth bared, your entire body straining against the grip of your captors. The hall gasped-some in shock, others in delight at the sheer audacity of your attack. The chain at your ankle snapped taut, yanking you backward.

You stumbled, your body wrenched back with a violent jolt. Still, you did not stop. You spat at his feet, chest heaving, eyes burning with hatred.

Thor merely exhaled, glancing down at the spittle that now marred the polished stone floor between you. A slow shake of his head, a sigh that was more tired than angry. “She is wild, brother,” he said at last, turning away, clearly uninterested in engaging further. “Perhaps she suits you more.”

Loki, still seated, watched with a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. The shadows danced in his sharp, calculating gaze as he leaned forward, propping his chin upon his hand, while his other strummed the table with long elegant fingers. His amusement was clear, his interest undeniable.

“What a gift indeed,” he murmured, standing as the crowd quieted. He stepped closer, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with amusement, the cold depths of them sharp and assessing. He eyed you as one might a wild creature caught in a snare, intrigued yet entirely in control. “Tell me, little hellcat-are you meant to be a prize or a test?”

You hissed at him, your body straining against the hold of your captors, and he only chuckled. “How delightful.”

The hall erupted into raucous laughter and cheers as Thor waved a hand, dismissing any notion of keeping you for himself. “She is yours, brother.”

And so, you had been dragged from the hall, still growling, still spitting, your fate sealed.

You thrashed as they dragged you through the halls, your screams echoing against the remnants of what had once been your home. The metallic bite of your shackles cut into your wrists as you twisted against them, your breath ragged with exertion, your heart pounding with fury. They merely held you firm, letting you exhaust yourself. Let her fight. Let her waste her strength. It will not change her fate.

Each step you took toward it was another step away from everything you had ever known, from the land your people had struggled to protect. Yet you did not falter. You refused to let them see fear. Refused to let them witness anything but the fire still burning in your soul.

You were hauled past towering figures dressed in regal armor, past the golden walls that whispered of power and privilege. Every breath you took filled your lungs with the scent of Asgard’s influence, the lingering essence of gods who ruled with a steady hand, whose intervention had saved this realm from a worse fate. But you did not see it as salvation. To you, it was simply another form of conquest.

Then, you were thrown into darkness. Loki’s chambers. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you in unsettling silence. You barely had time to gather yourself before rough hands shoved you down onto the thick furs covering the bed. The air was thick with incense, its cloying scent curling around you like a phantom touch. The chain at your ankle was yanked taut, the cold iron cuff pressing against your skin as it was secured to one of the ornately carved bedposts.

You thrashed, kicking out, but the restraint held firm. A sharp tug wrenched you back toward the bed, a cruel reminder of your powerlessness. The guards chuckled at your defiance, one giving a final jerk on the chain before stepping back.

“Feisty one,” he muttered, shaking his head with a smirk before turning to leave. The others followed, the door groaning as it shut behind them.

You barely waited a heartbeat before scrambling off the bed, your bare feet hitting the cold floor as you tried to bolt. The chain rattled violently, jerking you to a sudden stop just before you could reach the far side of the room. You stumbled, falling hard to your knees, your breath leaving you in a sharp gasp.

A slow clap of footsteps echoed through the chamber.

"Leave us..." Loki’s voice cut through the space like silk and steel, his tone effortless yet commanding. He strode inside, the door locking behind him with a finality that sent a shudder through you. A bottle of something dark and strong dangled from his fingers, his other hand lazily tracing along the edge of a candleholder as he passed, the flames flickering to life in his wake.

He made his way toward the bed, his sharp gaze drinking in the sight of you-wild, breathless, your body taut with resistance. He perched himself at the edge of the bed, setting the bottle aside with a quiet thud.

“There, there,” he murmured, amusement curling at the edges of his voice. His fingers trailed lazily along the length of the chain before giving it an experimental tug, watching as it forced you back ever so slightly. “Wouldn’t want my little hellcat thinking she could just... run off. Not before we've had our fun, would we?”

His words made the hair on the back of your neck stand up as you crouched the glow of golden lanterns casting flickering shadows across the polished floors. You were breathing hard, chest rising and falling, hair a tangled mess around your face, sweat and dirt smeared across your skin. Finally your let out a rumbling growl from somewhere deep in your chest. 

Loki watching you with keen interest. There was no pity in his gaze, no soft words to soothe your fury. He enjoyed this, relished in the fire still burning in your eyes despite your captivity.

“You hiss, you snarl,” Loki mused, tilting his head, amusement lacing every syllable. He let out a slow chuckle, the sound rich and indulgent. He took his time, letting his gaze linger, his blue eyes gleaming with something dark and unreadable. Slowly, he leaned forward, his expression one of idle curiosity. “Such a little hellcat.”

You bared your teeth at him, muscles coiled tight as if you would spring for his throat. 

“I do love a challenge.” He chuckled again.

With a deliberate slowness, Loki reached for the buckles of his leather tunic, undoing them one by one. The supple material shifted under his touch as he shrugged it off, the weight of it hitting the floor with a soft thud. Beneath it, his undershirt clung to the lean muscle of his torso, the flickering lanterns casting deep shadows along the sharp planes of his chest.

He exhaled, stretching his arms briefly before grasping the hem of his underlayer. He peeled the fabric away, revealing the sculpted ridges of his abdomen, the pale skin marred only by faint scars-remnants of past battles. His movements were unhurried, measured, as though daring you to look, to acknowledge the power he held not just in his presence but in the body before you.

His blue eyes caught yours again, filled with something both wicked and knowing. He tilted his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Come now, little hellcat. Have you never seen a god undress before?"

He stepped to the far side of the bed, his long fingers curling around the neck of the bottle as he lifted it effortlessly. Tilting his head back, he took a slow, measured swig, throat bobbing with the motion. The scent of strong liquor filled the space between you, and your dry tongue darted out instinctively to dampen cracked lips.

How long had it been since you had something to drink? Your throat ached at the thought, your parched lips tingling as your body reminded you of just how much it craved even a drop of moisture.

Loki’s gaze flicked downward, catching the fleeting motion of your tongue. He let out a quiet hum of amusement, rolling the bottle between his fingers before taking another sip, slower this time, watching you the entire time. "Thirsty, are we?"

He tilted the bottle slightly, letting the liquor swirl before pouring a generous amount into a goblet. Without a word, he bent down, placing it on the floor between you, the dark liquid sloshing slightly as he set it down. His smirk lingered as he straightened, drawing himself back up to his full height, stepping away with lazy confidence as if to give you space.

You shifted, eyeing the goblet warily, moving slightly to keep your distance from him. The scent of the drink was rich, spiced, and it called to you like a siren’s song. Your throat burned with dryness, and despite yourself, you could not tear your gaze from it.

Loki turned his back to you, taking his time as he walked toward the far side of the bed, exuding nonchalance. That was your moment.

You lunged forward, snatching the goblet up in both hands, guzzling it down so fast that some of it spilled over the edges, sliding down your chin, trailing over your throat and chest. The warmth of the liquor hit you instantly, spreading fire through your parched body, but you didn’t care. You drank greedily, too desperate to savour it, too frantic to stop.

Loki’s chuckle came slow and knowing. "There’s a good girl." Your hands trembled slightly, but as he took a step closer, you hesitated, eyes flickering between him and the cup in your hands. The moment he moved, you set it down hastily, retreating a few paces, your body tensed as if expecting a trap.

Loki hummed, tilting his head as if considering something, before reaching down and refilling the goblet. He set it back onto the floor, stepping back again, though this time, not quite as far. His movements were slow, calculated, a silent test.

You hovered, shifting on your haunches, your instincts warring against your need. The scent of the liquor was thick, tantalizing, and your throat still burned. Another moment passed, and then you lunged, snatching the goblet once more, bringing it to your lips and drinking deep. The fiery liquid coated your throat, spreading warmth through your limbs, but this time, it was slower, the edges of your mind turning hazy from the alcohol’s effect.

Loki let out a satisfied chuckle, rolling the bottle between his palms. "You learn quickly," he mused.

Loki took his time closing the distance between you, his boots barely making a sound on the polished floor. He crouched before you, watching with unhidden amusement as you gasped for breath, the warmth of the drink settling into your stomach. His long fingers reached out, trailing up the column of your throat, catching a stray droplet of liquor that had slipped down your skin. He brought it to his lips, his tongue flicking out to taste it, a slow hum of satisfaction escaping him.

“Messy little thing,” he mused, his tone rich with indulgence. “Was it that unbearable, I wonder? That thirst clawing at you, making you forget everything but the need to drink?”

His eyes flickered with dark amusement as he lifted the goblet from your grasp, turning it over to show its emptiness. “How quickly you took what I offered.” He let the cup fall from his fingers, the soft clatter against the stone floor barely registering over the sound of your uneven breathing.  Loki’s gaze burned into you as he leaned in, his lips barely a whisper away from your ear. “Tell me, little hellcat… what else might you take from me so eagerly?”

You hissed at him, baring your teeth once more, but Loki only tutted, shaking his head as if you were an unruly pet testing its boundaries. You instinctively moved back, trying to put distance between you, but the sharp rattle of the chain gave you away before you could make it far.

Loki’s hand snapped out, gripping the chain just above where it was secured to your ankle. With a single pull, the metal links tightened, dragging you forward before you could dig your heels in. You gasped, arms scrambling against the floor to brace yourself, but he yanked again, forcing you closer, the cold iron biting against your skin. The sudden loss of control sent a fresh wave of fury surging through you, but he only smirked as if the struggle pleased him.

He let the chain go slack, but not enough for you to retreat. No, Loki did not need brute force to corner you.

Prowling forward, he closed the last of the space between you, lowering himself to your level, making sure you felt the way his presence consumed the air. His fingers ghosted over your skin, feather-light, maddeningly delicate. A whisper of fingertips along your bare arm, a teasing stroke down the ridge of your spine. Your body tensed, caught in the dissonance of instincts-one screaming to fight, the other to yield to the sensations he so effortlessly evoked.

He was studying you, an insidious look on his face. The growl coming up from you again. 

“You can snarl all you want, little hellcat,” he murmured, his voice like velvet and steel. His breath ghosted over your skin, lips brushing close but never quite touching. “But we both know what happens when something wild is handled with the right kind of touch.”

He was close enough to strike, to kick, but your limbs felt heavy, your head clouded, the warmth of the liquor seeping into your veins. A slow, creeping lethargy dulled your movements, your body betraying you with sluggish resistance. Yet, even as your instincts screamed at you to fight, another feeling curled at the edges of your awareness-something unfamiliar, something dangerous.

Your breath hitched as Loki loomed over you, his face sharp as a blade in the dim light. He was beautiful in a way that should not have struck you now, not here, not like this. The flickering lanterns carved shadows along the angular planes of his face-the high cheekbones, the wicked tilt of his mouth, the piercing blue eyes that seemed to drink in your every reaction. There was something predatory in his gaze, something that sent a shiver down your spine-not entirely out of fear.

His smirk deepened, as though he sensed the shift in you, the momentary lapse in your defiance. His grip on the chain tightened, the metal links rattling sharply as he gave a sudden pull. The force sent you tumbling forward, your hands barely catching against the floor to stop your fall. Before you could regain your balance, his arm wrapped around your middle, lifting you effortlessly.

The torn rags you wore shredded further under his grip, the fabric giving way in places as your body was pulled flush against his.  The solid press of his bare chest against your back. His grip was unyielding, every movement forcing you against the hard lines of his body.

A sharp intake of breath escaped you as you became aware of the aching hardness between his legs, pressing insistently against your lower back. Loki let out a quiet, pleased hum, his fingers digging into your waist as he relished the way you tensed at the realization.

Then, with little effort, he tossed you onto the bed, his grip never loosening as he followed, pinning your wrists above your head. The soft furs did little to cushion the weight of him as he hovered over you, his blue eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

You bucked beneath him, twisting in his hold, snarling through clenched teeth. The fight had not left you, not yet. Your legs kicked against the furs, your body writhing as you tried to dislodge him, but Loki merely chuckled, his grip unyielding.

“Even in defeat, you people don’t give up, do you?” he mused, easily evading a knee aimed at his side. “Never know when you’re beaten. Your people certainly didn’t. They fought and bled until the last, screaming curses at the sky even as they fell beneath Asgard’s might. And for what?”

His words burned, but they did nothing to quell the fire within you. What else was there but defiance? To yield was to accept that your people had died for nothing. That all the battles, all the blood spilled into the dirt, had been futile. You could not-would not-let go of that rage, even as your strength waned, even as you remained bound beneath him. Loki’s amusement only grew, his fingers trailing down, catching on the torn fabric of your clothes. Another snarl tore from you as you tried to pull your arms down to cover your bare chest. But his hold stayed firm.

"In the end you all kneel.." 

He hummed in mock contemplation, tilting his head as he studied you, his touch deceptively light over the exposed skin.

His hand drifted away for a moment, and you had just begun to brace yourself when a dagger appeared in his palm as if conjured from thin air. The sight of it made your body go rigid, breath catching in your throat. This was what you knew, what you expected-pain, brutality, the sharp bite of a blade to punish defiance. You stiffened, your muscles locking up as you prepared for the inevitable sting of steel against flesh.

Loki, perceptive as ever, watched the tension ripple through you. His smirk deepened, but instead of pain, the cold kiss of metal whispered along your ribs, tracing over your side. Then, with a deliberate flicks, he sliced cleanly through the remaining shreds of your clothing. The tattered fabric fell away, leaving your chest bare before him.

His gaze roved over your body, taking in the hardened lines of a warrior’s form-tanned flesh marked by scars, some fresh, others long healed. A map of survival, of battles fought and endured. He ran the blunt edge of the dagger along one particularly jagged scar over your hip, his eye focused as if reading a story carved into your skin. “Oh, you are something savage, aren’t you?” he mused, almost appreciative, almost reverent. There was no mockery in his tone now-just a quiet understanding, as if he recognized the kind of life you had lived, the brutality that camp from the raiding war camps.  

"Your own people handed you over to us as a prize," Loki murmured, the blade continuing its slow, measured path over your body. "A peace offering, they called you a token of goodwill." He scoffed, the amusement never leaving his tone. "And yet here you are, snarling and spitting like a beast in a trap. Tell me, little hellcat, what good has all this defiance done for you?"

Your breath came shallow, your heart hammering against your ribs. He was toying with you, chipping away at the last remnants of your certainty. What else did you have but resistance? To yield was unthinkable. To surrender meant losing the last piece of yourself that still felt real.

But then his dagger moved lower, the edge gliding over the torn remnants of your skirt. With a flick of his wrist, the fabric gave way, slipping from your body in tattered ruins. The knife disappeared as quickly as it had come, vanishing into nothing, and his hands replaced it, broad palms smoothing over the newly bared skin as his hands pushed the fabric away. 

The touch was different from the cold bite of the blade. Warmer. More consuming.

You stiffened, writhing beneath his touch, your body instinctively twisting away, but the chain at your ankle rattled, holding you fast. Loki only chuckled, low and pleased his grip on your wrists tightening. "Now, now." His fingers of his free hand traced over the same paths the dagger had travelled, slow, deliberate.

"You probably don’t even understand what it is I’m offering you," he mused, his voice lilting, coaxing. "Fighting is all you’ve ever known, isn’t it? Pain, brutality… those are the only languages your kind understand. But conquest doesn't have to be something to fight against."

His fingers continued their slow exploration, gliding over your skin with practiced ease, trailing over battle-worn flesh as if memorizing each mark. "Your kind only know war. You think surrender means death, that yielding means ruin. But power does not always come from battle. It can come from knowing when to stop fighting."

His voice was softer now, deceptively gentle, a lure wrapped in silk. "How much blood have you seen spilled, little hellcat? How much have you lost? And for what? Your people are gone, their screams swallowed by the battlefield. Their legacy burned to ash. Yet still, you fight. Still, you bare your teeth like a wounded animal."

His touch grew firmer, fingers trailing lower, pressing just enough to make you aware of them. "Tell me, what did all that defiance earn you? Did it save your home? Your kin? Or did it leave you here, chained at my feet, your body trembling beneath my hands?"

Loki shifted closer, his breath warm against your skin. "I could teach you something else. Something far sweeter than war. If only you’d stop fighting long enough to feel it."

His words slithered around you like a net tightening, and before you could muster another snarl, his grip changed. His hand slid upward, fingers skimming over the curve of your ribs before trailing higher, brushing against the soft flesh of your breast. You jerked at the contact, instinctively bucking but his grip on your wrists kept you pinned beneath him, leaving you helpless against the slow, measured exploration of his touch.

A pleased hum rumbled from his throat as he traced over your skin, his fingers circling, teasing, playing. "So fierce" he murmured, almost thoughtful, his thumb grazing over a sensitive peak. "You don't even know how to yield, do you?"

A sharp gasp escaped you, hips shifting involuntarily as your muscles coiled with tension. Loki only chuckled, his touch growing firmer, more deliberate. He watched the way you writhed beneath him, the way your body reacted despite the hatred burning in your eyes. It was fascinating-watching something so wild resist what it was built to crave.

"Just like your people" he murmured, dipping his head lower, lips hovering just above your skin. "Your body will betray you.." His breath was warm, sending a shiver across your flesh before he finally closed his mouth over you, sucking lightly at first, teasing. His tongue flicked against the sensitive pebble, and despite everything, your breath hitched, the sensation sending a traitorous wave of heat through you.

Loki smirked against your skin, lips curving in wicked satisfaction as he lavished the tender flesh, his hand keeping you still as he took his time with you. His tongue flicked over your harden nipple before he drew it between his lips, sucking with slow, measured precision, his breath warm against your fevered skin.

You twisted beneath him, your body arching despite yourself, despite the warning cries in your mind. Your thighs clenched as heat coiled deep in your belly, an unfamiliar pulse growing with every touch, every teasing stroke of his tongue. You growled, low and defiant, but the sound was breathy, lacking its usual bite.

Loki chuckled, lips dragging over your skin as he pressed a kiss over your ribs, his voice purring with amusement. “Still so eager to fight? I wonder… do you even speak?”

His hands trailed lower, fingers mapping the soft dips and curves of your body. The pressure was maddening, never quite enough, teasing but never giving you the friction you needed. You shuddered, frustration coiling in your muscles as you twisted against him, your breaths uneven.

Loki let out a pleased hum before shifting, reclining onto the bed as though this were all a game to him. His grip on your wrists loosened just enough to move, but before you could attempt to escape, his free hand pressed firmly against your thigh, forcing them open.

A growl tore from your throat as you bucked, but his strength was undeniable. He wrapped one of his long legs over yours, pinning it in place with ease. The shackle at your ankle rattled as he gave a slight tug on the chain, making sure you understood-there was no closing your legs, no escape from him.

His fingers resumed their lazy exploration, trailing higher, his touch feather-light but purposeful. The sheer vulnerability of the position sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through you, your body reacting despite the war waging in your mind.

“Will you call for your heathen god while I fill you over and over again?” His voice was smooth, taunting, vibrating against your sensitive skin. One of his hands slid between your thighs, ghosting over you but never settling, never giving you the satisfaction of contact.

Just like he'd said you could feel your body betrayed you, shivering under his touch, the anticipation unbearable. His fingers barely grazed over you, and yet it sent a sharp, hot pulse through your veins, your breath stuttering in response. Loki hummed in satisfaction, his smirk widening against your skin.

“I do not intend to break you, hellcat,” he murmured, his lips dragging slowly over your throat, the warmth of his breath a cruel contrast to the chill of the room. "Only to tame you."

You growled once more, the last embers of resistance burning in your chest, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to protect your more sacred parts. But Loki’s grip remained unyielding, his body a wall of restraint as his fingers trailed lower, slipping along the seam of your core.

A sharp inhale left your lips, your body stiffening at the intimate touch, but all it did was amuse him further. A knowing hum rumbled from his throat as he dipped his head lower, his mouth pressing against the curve of your neck, the heat of his lips sending another traitorous shiver through you. Then, without warning, his fingers pushed between your folds, parting them with devastating slowness.

The noise you made was somewhere between a gasp and a growl, caught between rebellion and undeniable pleasure. Loki smirked against your throat, revelling in the way your body tensed beneath him, your breath hitching as he explored the traitorous wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Oh, my little hellcat,” he purred, his fingers stroking with languid precision, teasing, never rushing. Occasionally, he let his fingers trail higher, brushing against your clit in the lightest of touches, just enough to send a sharp pulse through your body. Your breath stuttered, a fresh growl tearing from your throat, but the sound faltered, for your defiance there was something dangerously close to need in that noise.

He chuckled, dragging his fingers down again, gathering the wetness that betrayed you, before resuming his torturous rhythm. The sensation built slowly, unbearably, your body growing restless beneath him, heat coiling tight in your belly. You bucked again, trying to twist away from his touch, but he merely tightened his grip, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"Ah, still fighting," Loki mused, his voice dripping amusement. "But look at you. So wet. So desperate. And yet you still snarl at me like a beast." 

Your hips moved despite yourself, your breath catching, fingers curling into fists. You growled once more, low and warning, bucking your hips in a last-ditch effort to be rid of him-only to feel his fingers slide lower. 

"Shall I make you purr instead?"

Your chained foot kicked out as the sensation built, as if you could somehow escape the unbearable pleasure creeping into your limbs. But Loki was already prepared, already shifting, his weight pressing down as he tightened his hold.

His lips found your throat, teeth scraping against sensitive skin before he latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. he murmured against your pulse, his voice filled with amusement, his fingers finally dipping lower, teasing your entrance before pushing inside, slow and deliberate.

Your back arched, the stretch sudden, unexpected, your walls yielding around the slow, deliberate intrusion. It was too much, too intimate-the way your body opened for him, taking him in deeper than you wanted to accept. A sharp gasp tore from your lips, your breath coming in shallow, uneven pants as you tried to adjust to the fullness of his fingers pressing deep inside you.

Your muscles clenched around him in instinctive resistance, but he only hummed approvingly, revelling in the way your body fought against the pleasure unravelling through you. His grip on your wrists never faltered, keeping you pinned beneath him, helpless against the slow, torturous invasion of his fingers. You were utterly exposed, spread wide, unable to twist away from the deliberate rhythm he set.

“That’s it,” Loki purred, his voice dripping with indulgence. “Open up for me, little hellcat. Let me feel all of you.”

His fingers spread inside you, scissoring deliberately, stretching you open as he took his time working you apart. The sensation was unbearable, burning and invasive, every movement pushing against resistance, coaxing your body to yield. Your breath hitched, your back bowing as your hips tried to sink back into the furs, away from the overwhelming fullness.

But there was no escaping him.

Loki smirked, watching the way your body instinctively tensed, your walls fluttering as if unsure whether to reject or welcome the intrusion. His fingers curled, pressing against that devastating spot inside you, sending a sharp, liquid heat rippling through your core. A ragged sound escaped you, caught between a growl and a plea, your body trembling beneath his touch.

“Look at how you take me,” he murmured, almost fascinated, his pace slow but unyielding. “So tight, little hellcat… but you’ll soften for me. You’ll take more. You were made for this.”

Your wrists strained against his hold, your hips fighting to move-whether to flee or to chase the friction, you weren’t sure. Loki simply chuckled, his thumb flicking over your swollen clit, sending another helpless shudder through you.

“Such a lovely contradiction,” he purred. “Your body is so honest, even when you lie to yourself.”

His fingers curled slightly, pressing against that spot inside you, dragging another ragged sound from your throat-a sound you could barely recognize as your own. Your back arched, the stretch deep and invasive, a sensation that made your breath stutter, your mind war between the urge to fight and the unbearable fullness of his touch.

He worked you with a wicked patience, every motion deliberate, teasing, pushing you further into the trap your own body had laid for you. Your walls clenched instinctively, as if to force him out, but he merely smirked, his pace unhurried, savouring how you trembled beneath his hold. The slick evidence of your betrayal coated his fingers, making every slow thrust effortless, every withdrawal torturous.

“You tried so hard,” he murmured, his thumb ghosting over your swollen clit, sending another traitorous jolt of pleasure through you. “Yet here you are-writhing, shaking, taking everything I give you.”

Your hips jerked, desperate to escape the overwhelming sensations but finding no reprieve. Loki chuckled, his grip tightening, his body keeping you caged beneath him. His legs moved to pull your further aside, his hips pressing down, forcing you to stay open for him.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice rich with satisfaction. His thumb brushed lightly against your swollen clit, drawing another unwilling shudder from you. "Listen to yourself," he murmured, his fingers slipping through the slick evidence of your body’s betrayal before pressing deep again, curling just right. "So soaked, dripping onto my hand, and yet you still bare your teeth."

The sound of his fingers pushing into your wet core was obscene, each slow stroke echoing in the chamber. The slick noise sent heat flooding through you, humiliation and something darker twisting together in your belly. Your walls clenched around him, trying to resist, but he only chuckled, unfazed.

“That knot inside you… I can feel it building,” he mused, almost thoughtful. "Tight, pulsing, desperate to snap. You don’t want it to, do you?" His nose tracing along your jaw, his fingers spreading again making you feel every deep, deliberate movement.

You choked on a breath, your body seizing, another growl rumbling from your throat. Loki grinned. "Trying to fight it? But you will surrender, little hellcat. You were made to come undone for me."

Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms hard enough to make the skin bleed, every muscle in your body coiling against the inevitable. You fought it, bucking against him, growling through clenched teeth, but it only heightened the sensations. The more you struggled, the more the pleasure built, sharp and consuming, your own defiance turning against you. Every roll of your hips, every attempt to twist away only sent another wave of heat spiralling through your limbs, your body working against your mind.

The tension in your core coiled unbearably tight, searing through you, refusing to be ignored. The pressure was relentless, twisting pleasure with humiliation, with fury, with something darker that clawed at the edges of your resolve. You couldn't stop it. You couldn't stop him. He was going to take everything from you now.

And the worst part? You were going to let him.

You were going to come apart at the hands of the one who destroyed your people. And gods help you-

You were going to like it.

Your body seized, every muscle tightening as the pleasure coiled unbearably tight, a taut, trembling wire on the verge of snapping. Loki's fingers never ceased, working you open, stretching you, his movements as measured as they were merciless. The wet sounds of his fingers plunging into you, the obscene slickness that marked your betrayal, filled the chamber alongside his quiet laughter.

"Ah, there it is," he murmured, feeling the way your walls fluttered, grasping desperately at his fingers, your body surrendering to the inevitable. "You're close, aren't you? I can feel you clenching down on me, trying so hard to deny it."

You shook your head, a growl rising in your throat, but it was ruined, trembling, edged with something fragile. You didn't want this, didn't want to fall apart like this. Not for him.

But Loki had already won.

He curled his fingers again, his thumb flicking over your throbbing clit with precision that shattered whatever fragile hold you had left. The tension broke, pleasure tearing through you in a violent wave, your back arching, a cry ripped from your throat before you could stop it. It crashed over you, wave after wave, your vision blurring as the force of it stole every last breath from your lungs.

Loki didn't stop. He worked you through it, his fingers unrelenting as you writhed beneath him, moaning, gasping, your body boneless in surrender. His laughter curled around you, wicked and indulgent, as if savouring the sight of you completely undone.

"There we go," he purred, his fingers still moving inside you, dragging out every last aftershock, his thumb teasing over your clit again just to watch you spasm beneath him. Your body twitched uncontrollably, muscles trembling from the intensity of it, your breath coming in broken gasps.

Loki chuckled, thoroughly pleased with himself, his fingers still buried inside you, pressing deep as addicted to the way your walls pulsed around him. "Such a sight," he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction. "You tried so hard, and yet here you are-ruined and trembling, undone by my hand alone."

He finally withdrew his fingers, slow and deliberate, revelling in the way your body clenched instinctively, as if reluctant to let him go. He brought them up between you, slick with your release, watching with dark amusement as he spread them apart, the evidence of your surrender glistening in the dim light.

"To think," he mused, his tone teasing as he brought his fingers to his lips, tasting you with an permissive hum, "you fought so hard to resist this. But as I said, your body always knew the truth, didn't it, hellcat?"

You lay next him, panting, dazed, limbs weak from pleasure and the lingering warmth of the drink. Your muscles refused to obey, spent from the relentless waves that had wracked your body, leaving you a trembling, boneless heap against the furs.

The fight had left you. You knew it. Yet you refused to acknowledge it.

A flicker of green blurred at the edges of your vision, and Loki shifted, his smirk widening as his pants vanished with an effortless pulse of magic. He loomed above you, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with conquest as he took in your wrecked state-wild and undone, your body betraying you even as your mind screamed defiance.

His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I felt you shatter for me, my little hellcat…"

You clenched your jaw, refusing to speak, to give him the satisfaction of a response. But Loki was nothing if not patient.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he let go of your chin and dragged you onto your hands and knees, the chain at your ankle rattling as he positioned you exactly where he wanted. You didn't even attempt to strike or claw as he let go of your wrists, rolling you over. There was no real fight now.

Loki ran a possessive hand down your spine, his fingers splaying over the curve of your hips before gripping them firmly. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured, "Since you behave like such a beast, I shall take you like one."

Loki moved behind you, his heat pressing against your back, his hands roaming over your waist, your hips, possessive in their claim. One large hand slid lower, guiding himself against your soaked core, running his hardened length through your slickness, teasing, coaxing, revelling in how wet you were for him.

A small, broken whimper slipped from your throat before you could bite it back.

Loki smirked. "No more hissing, hmm?" His voice was rich with amusement, the arrogance of victory settling into every syllable. He gave a slow, deliberate thrust between your folds, letting the head of his cock graze against your swollen clit, pulling another unbidden tremor from your body. "Good girl."

Your head fell forward, the weight of exhaustion, of pleasure, of surrender too much to bear. And then, before you could stop yourself, before you could think-

"Please…"

The word barely carried past your lips, quiet, breathless. You weren’t sure if you were begging for mercy or for more, if you were pleading for release or for an end to the torment of knowing how deeply your body had betrayed you.

Loki stilled, then let out a delighted chuckle. "Oh? You do speak?" He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, his voice dark with satisfaction. "Let’s have you scream my name then."

Without further warning, he pressed forward, the thick head of his cock stretching you open, slow and deliberate. The intrusion was overwhelming, your body hypersensitive from his earlier torment, the burn of his size making your breath stutter into a ragged moan. Your limbs trembled, fingers clawing at the furs beneath you as he filled you inch by inch, ensuring you felt every hard, unrelenting inch of him.

Loki groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he sank into you fully, his body shuddering in satisfaction. "So warm… so tight," he murmured, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you in place. "You were made for this, little hellcat, made to be tamed, made to be mine."

Your body clenched around him involuntarily, the sensation too much, too consuming, leaving you keening softly, your breath shattering in the stillness of the room. You were no longer thrashing, no longer resisting-only whimpering,

Loki rejoiced in your submission, relishing the way your body moulded around him. He withdrew slowly, only to press back in with the same torturous precision, making sure you felt every inch of your surrender. His hands gripped your hips, holding you still as he set a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending fresh waves of sensation rippling through you.

"There now," he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. "No more hissing, no more claws. Just this."

He moved-slow at first, each thrust deliberate, forcing you to feel every thick inch stretching you open, every drag against your sensitive walls. The overstimulation made your breath stutter, made your limbs tremble. The pleasure was relentless, raw, tearing through you with every slow roll of his hips.

Loki groaned, "You take me so well hellcat." his voice thick with satisfaction. "Oh gods…" you gasped, your fingers clenching the furs beneath you, your body rocking with the force of his movements.

He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your waist to hold you in place. "I doubt your gods can hear you now," he murmured, his thrusts beginning to quicken, deepening with each snap of his hips. "But this one can."

His rhythm grew more forceful, his pace unforgiving as he chased his pleasure, as he drove you further into submission. The stretch of him, the way he filled you completely, made your body tremble with the unbearable mix of pleasure and something teetering on the edge of pain. Every thrust forced you open wider, made you feel just how much of him you had to take.

You tried to adjust, to find some control, but he gave you none. Your fingers clawed at the furs beneath you, your breath coming in ragged pants, but all it did was amuse him. "Poor thing," Loki purred, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Are you struggling? Is it too much?" His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you back against him with each deep stroke. "But your body doesn’t seem to mind."

You whimpered, heat coiling unbearably tight in your core, each brutal thrust sending another wave of sensation crashing through you. "Uhrgh! …" you gasped moans slipping past your lips before you could stop them.

Your body clenched around him involuntarily, the overwhelming sensation tipping closer and closer to the edge. You wanted to resist, wanted to deny him the satisfaction, but it was futile. The pleasure was unbearable, tightening, building, burning through you until there was nothing left but the devastating need to surrender completely.

Loki leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a dark whisper. "Say my name," he murmured, his thrusts growing deeper, more punishing. "Tell me who you belong to."

You bit down on your lip, refusing, even as your body trembled, even as your walls fluttered around him, dangerously close to another devastating release. But Loki was patient. His hand slid down, fingers pressing against your aching clit, circling it in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your vision blur.

"Say it," he urged, grinding deeper, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made your breath hitch, made your limbs quake.

The pressure inside you coiled unbearably tight, the need to break overwhelming. You fought it, fought him, but the pleasure was too much. Your body gave in before your pride did, the words falling from your lips in a gasping whisper.

"Y-you…"

Your body shattered around him, pleasure ripping through you in devastating waves, your climax seizing every nerve, every muscle, forcing you into complete submission. A strangled cry tore from your throat, your back arching as the overwhelming sensation crashed over you, leaving you trembling, writhing, unable to control the helpless spasms that wracked your body. The intensity was unbearable, your breath coming in ragged, broken sobs as your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go. But Loki did not stop.

He groaned, his hands tightening on your hips, his thrusts growing rougher, more insistent as he fucked you through it, forcing you feel ever clench ever flutter your walls made around his cock. Each snap of his hips sent another jolt through your overstimulated body.

"Not done yet, hellcat," Loki growled, his voice thick with possession. He gave a brutal thrust, driving himself to the hilt, his tip pressing deep into you. "You will give me another."

Your body was still trembling from the force of your last orgasm, oversensitive, raw, but Loki did not stop. He kept moving, his thrusts relentless, dragging another cry from your lips as your limbs quaked beneath him. The pleasure was unbearable, bordering on torment, the overstimulation making your breath hitch, your muscles weaken. You collapsed onto your forearms, panting into the furs, your body no longer able to hold itself upright against the force of his claiming.

Loki only smirked, his grip unyielding as he held you in place, making sure you felt every deep stroke, every possessive roll of his hips. "That's it," he purred, voice rich with satisfaction. "No more fight left in you, is there? Just this-just me."

Your walls clenched involuntarily around him, the relentless friction taking you apart, your will, your soul fracturing, every thrust sending a fresh pulse of heat spiralling through you. Your body was betraying you again, the pressure already building, the cruel edge of another climax creeping closer.

Loki chuckled darkly, feeling the way you trembled beneath him. "Oh, you will give me another, little hellcat. I will take you apart again and again until there is no thought of defiance, no memory of resistance-only me."

His thrusts never slowed, never wavered, driving deeper, harder, until all you could do was gasp, your fist twisting up in the furs beneath you. Your body no longer fought him-it sought him. Each desperate clench of your walls, each helpless moan torn from your throat only spurred him on, his pace punishing, possessive.

Your limbs shook while you mewled, your mind hazy, drowning in the pleasure he forced upon you. Where had pleasure like this been? Nothing had felt like this-not the rush of battle, not the joy of victory. Nothing compared to this. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t remember why you had ever tried to resist him. There was nothing but him-his touch, his voice, his relentless claim over your body and soul.

The pressure built again, cruel and unrelenting, another climax cresting far too soon, but there was no stopping it. Your body craved him now, needed him like air, like sustenance, and the realization shattered the last vestiges of your will.

A strangled cry ripped from your lips, your back arching as another wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your body convulsing around him, tightening, drawing him deeper, surrendering completely. Your voice was raw, broken.

"LOKI," you gasped, his name spilling from your lips in a breathless, desperate prayer. The pleasure tore through you in a relentless surge, dragging you under, leaving you helpless beneath its weight. Your walls fluttered around him, pulsing, milking every inch of him as your muscles locked and your breath hitched, caught between a sob and a moan. The sensation was too much, too consuming, sending sharp jolts of overstimulation rippling through your body.

Your body shaking, but there was nothing-only him. His scent, his body, his merciless rhythm. You shattered in his grasp, boneless and wrecked, pleasure surging through every nerve as your climax sent fresh spasms through you, your legs shaking as if they threaten to give out.

Loki's breath hitched, a sharp exhale breaking through his usual control. "That’s it," he groaned, voice thick with possession, "Take it. Take all of me."

He thrust deeper, his movements becoming erratic, rougher as he chased his own release, every stroke driving the sensation higher, pushing you past any hope of resistance. "You feel that?" he growled, fingers tightening around your hips. "You want this, you need me now." His voice was strained, fraying at the edges, his own pleasure consuming him as your body clenched around him, dragging him to the brink. His grip on your hips unrelenting. "Mine," he rasped, his voice dark and hoarse, his rhythm faltering as he finally lost himself in you. His thrusts grew erratic, his breath turning ragged as your body clenched around him, dragging him closer to his own end. His fingers dug into your flesh, his control fraying as he drove into you harder, deeper, chasing his own pleasure with the same ruthless intensity that had shattered you.

Loki's breath catching as his closing down like a vice, his body tensing, and then with a deep, guttural groan, he spilled into you, his seed flooding deep inside, hot and unrelenting, marking you as his own. He buried himself to the hilt, holding you firm, refusing to let you escape the finality of his claim. "You belong to me now," he murmured against your skin, his breath ragged, his pleasure still echoing through his limbs. But still, he did not let go. Even as his body shuddered, even as he pressed in deep one final time, he kept you close, his hands possessive, his breath hot against your damp skin.

"So docile now.." he rasped, his voice rough with exertion, his lips ghosting over your shoulder as he held you through the aftershocks, whimpering keens coming from you.

When he finally withdrew, you collapsed, your body trembling, boneless. His seed and your nectar spilled out of you, running over your skin to make a sticky mess on the furs beneath you. The evidence of what he had done to you, of how completely he had claimed you, was undeniable.

Loki leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "Such a good little thing," he murmured, his voice filled with the purrs bought from his own sated need. With a flick of his fingers, the shackle around your ankle unlocked, the metal slipping away with a quiet clink. Not because you were free-but because you would not run now. There was no need for such a restraint. 

His hand moved to your hair, stroking through the sweat damp strands as he indulged in the warmth of your ruined form against him. He curled himself around you, his touch possessive, his presence inescapable.

"Rest, little hellcat," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "You belong to me now."

[hunny-beann]

The Coming of Spring

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

Synopsis: It is May Eve on Asgard, a Holiday that exists to celebrate love, fertility, and the coming of Spring…

Though, if your lover, Prince Loki has his say in the matter (and he usually does), Spring will not be the only thing to come, nor will it be the only worshiped aspect of this particular eve.

Note: Welcome to the smut fest! For some reason I've found myself up at six in the morning writing this, so please forgive any mistakes I've made while in my horrendously exhausted state. I hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: Pretty graphic NSFW, vulgarity, somewhat of a breeding kink, and pure unadulterated filth

Word Count: 2,419

There was a rather frantic energy pulsing throughout the room as the palace staff rushed about nervously, not a single set of idle hands to be found in the combined effort to finish the preparations for the afternoon's upcoming festivities in a timely manner.

You blew out a puff of air, already exhausted from the tasks you had completed thus far and silently cursing this day for daring to come at all.

And yet this year, as with every other, the springtime holiday still arrived, the augur of some great change, according to legend, though for you it always meant the same thing:

Waking up at five in the morning to prepare for the upcoming afternoon festival in whatever manner the queen deemed fit for the proper celebration of what had come to be well known Walpurgisnacht, or May Eve, the holiday that brought upon the loud and boisterous worship of love, fertility, and the coming of Spring.

And of course, a day so dedicated to such things was one of pleasant festivities to be certain, and thus you never failed to enjoy it, but even still, your chores weighed heavily upon you as your overworked fingers weaved petals and stems through glistening golden iron.

It had been four hours since you had gotten up to work, and somehow it had felt like an eternity, your hands cramping and begging for relief as the tips of your fingers rubbed themselves raw with duty.

You paused for a moment to yawn into the crook of your elbow, wishing for the one hundredth time within that hour alone that you had gotten more sleep the night before.

Still, it had been a worthy sacrifice, had it not? A little bit of exhaustion today in order to avoid the simmering desire of the realm's younger prince throughout the festivities, or, more accurately yet, throughout your abundant tasks that you had scheduled about your day?

Yes, almost assuredly. You had learned all too well from last year (and the other two before that), that it was rather hard to do such things as wash the finest of the palace's dinnerware with Loki's skilled fingers upon your chest or beneath your dress, after all.

So, if a bit of freedom from your concerns of being dragged off into some dark corner upon every available moment of your dear prince's day came at the cost of you being forced to wake up early while he slept away the previous evening's activities, then so be it.

At least this way, you could know for certain that you still had quite a few hours yet until someone urged the prince to rise, giving you plenty of time to complete at least the preparatory chores before he began his ever persistent search for you.

He seemed to enjoy the game of seeking you out each morning, or at whatever time it was that he rose or found himself at leave, though usually it was to do little more than tease or annoy you as you attempted to work through his ceaseless attempts at distraction.

But on a holiday like today, you found that he was typically all too content with taking his teasing quite a few steps further. That said, much to your (mostly feigned) chagrin, that did not mean that he never found himself seeking out far less innocent sounds than those of annoyance, laughter, or sheer disbelief from you on random days throughout the year.

No, Loki was incorrigible, and beyond even that, incomprehensible with his choices and behaviors, and you could normally never hope to know upon which day you might find yourself sandwiched between his chest and some palace wall, though with the arrival Walpurgisnacht, it was almost always a certainty.

Still, with something that was perhaps akin to a fool's ignorance, you dared to hope that maybe, after a night like the one this dawn had followed, your prince may have been just sated enough to make it through the holiday without torturing you so the way that he usually chose to.

Such a thought could not be so terribly remiss, could it? Not after the hours upon hours of groping, fleeting, and cradling touches that the two of you had offered one another the night before.

Not after an afternoon's worth of teasing at the hands of the god of mischief upon that very same day, or the longing glances that carried on well into the evening.

Not after he had cornered you in the garden after dinner had come to an end, speaking his long withheld and inconceivably filthy promises of what was to come clearly and casually into the cool night air as if the two of you were simply taking an evening stroll together, talking about the weather or your hobbies rather than the way he planned to have you upon his tongue within the hour, hands creating bruising imprints of obvious ownership in the soft flesh of your hips and thighs as he drove you to madness before pulling you right back toward sanity again with the blunt tip of his cock as it kissed up against your wet folds, smearing precum amongst the remnants of his saliva and the glistening drool of your already thoroughly abused cunt.

Not after you had given in a mere twenty minutes after hearing his whorish promises of what he intended to do to you once he laid his hands upon your bare flesh again, knocking quietly at his heavy chamber doors until he finally came to find you standing there, having made you wait in a manner that was no doubt intentional just so he could feel the exaggerated way that you melted against him when he finally pulled you near, kissing you deeply until his amused and teasing chuckles turned into low and rumbling groans that arose from deep within his chest, and he pulled away to order you to your knees before him, mouth open and waiting so he could see the way your eager tongue stuck out to taste him even before he was bare before you, and how your perfect thighs began to rub together in a fruitless attempt to ease the ache that the sight of him never ceased to cause.

Not after he had held you firm against his chest, arm looped around your middle as you'd laid beneath him on all fours while he'd thrust his strong and lithe hips against your trembling ones, not an ounce of mercy to be found as he hissed and moaned with reckless abandon beside your ear, the sounds of his pleasure easily matching and occasionally even drowning out your own as he reminded you of who you had been born to serve, to worship, and to cum for upon his very command.

And oh, did he command.

Eleven orgasms, if you had counted correctly, and you were fairly certain with as hazy as your mind had felt after the first four, that you had not.

Your cheeks burned red at the clear and persistent memories of the previous night, Loki's satisfied groans and sluttish moans playing over and over within your head as if he were right there with you, cock buried in whichever tight, wet hole was deemed worthy of his attentions within that particular moment.

You swallowed thickly, pressing your thighs together tightly as you continued your seemingly endless work, flower after flower coming to rest perfectly upon the third archway that had been granted your efforts for the morning thus far.

Though, in spite of how diligently you worked at your assigned chore, it seemed that the fates themselves had something against it being completed,

For what other reason could there be for such familiarly agile hands to suddenly rest upon your hips so early in the morn, in spite of the tiresome escapades that had occurred the night before?

It was so unlike the younger prince of Asgard to awaken so early after a night of passion, after which he tended to lounge upon his sheets, naked body blessing the very realm with its presence as sunlight danced upon his skin.

You had seen that many a time after all, hadn't you? So you would certainly know, better than most at that, if not better than all.

But then again, it was so very much like Loki to rise early not to seize this day, but rather to seize you upon it as he had done for the past three May Eves since he had claimed you as his own...

And maybe you had not considered that fact as diligently as you should have while working to tire him out the night before, though now you were embarrassed to admit that you scarcely knew why you would have wanted to do so in the first place.

It seemed that your rather vivid memories of the prior evening's festivities had brought about a familiar stirring betwixt your thighs, and you knew all too well that there was only one set of hands, one silver tongue, one long and devastatingly thick cock, and one god of mischief who could help you to ease your sudden discomfort.

"Good morning, my dear."

He purred against the shell of your ear, warm breaths causing your hair to flutter about delicately as his hands traveled over top your gown.

"It would seem that I require some additional support when it comes to selecting and befitting myself with the proper attire for this afternoon's festivities."

He all but purred, forcing you to bite back a shiver as you struggled not to make your already overwhelming need for him too obvious.

It was never fun to just give in, after all.

You knew all too well how much he liked the chase.

So, with that thought in mind, you steadied yourself to the best of your ability, giving your already racing imagination a few brief moments of peace before finally, you spoke,

"Is that so, my prince?"

You asked, feigning curiosity as you did your best to continue working on the task at hand, sore fingers working deftly at soft petals and slightly thorny stems as you weaved them continuously through metal.

"Well, I regret to inform you that your dear mother, our most respected queen, specifically requested that I myself create the flowered arches for the festival this year."

You began,

"She was kind enough to let me know how much she enjoyed my work upon them last eve in Lady Juniper's absence, and asked if I might be willing to work my magic for a second year running."

You heard an amused chuckle arise from behind you, and though you were certain that Loki had already planned something truly devious to drag you away from your duties with, you continued to feign innocence.

"And how could I dare say no to a request such as that, dear prince? It would seem that Lady Juniper's past maternity leave has provided me with quite the opportunity with which to rise into our lady's good graces, and who would I be to squander such a thing?"

There was a thoughtful hum from your lover as he reached beyond you to thumb at a few of the petals that decorated your current project with his left hand, though the right stayed firm upon your hip, the pads of his fingers pressing deftly into your flesh just as they had done the night before, mirroring the bruises he'd left there perfectly.

"An utter fool, to be sure."

He replied easily, voice low and smooth as he continued,

"Though, I can think of a far better way for you to rise into the All-Mother's good graces, sweetling."

He murmured, lips brushing against your neck just enough so that you could feel the smirk that rested so prominently upon them.

He had you exactly where he wanted you, though you could scarcely bring yourself to mind when there was such a tremendous desire building for him deep within your core.

"Oh?"

You asked curiously, nimble fingers still working on your once so heavily fixated on project,

"And what might that be, Prince Loki?"

At that, you felt the ever teasing god of mischief crowd your back, his hardness pressed against you as you desperately fought the urge to wriggle against his crotch just to hear the no doubt sluttish groan he would let out if you did.

Thankfully enough though, your lover seemed eager to get to the point, the reasoning for that fact somehow growing even harder at the touch of your warmth, even with it being so dulled beneath your clothing.

He chuckled,

"Well my dear, I think you would find her to be quite pleased if you were to request your own leave in the coming months."

He purred, and this time, you could not even hope to fight back the shiver that followed, your hands finding either side of the nearly completed archway with a gasp as Loki bent you over at the waist, pressing himself as close to your clothed core as he could manage with a low and eager groan, his words dripping with both amusement and thinly veiled arousal as he spoke up again,

"Would you like me to give you a reason to do so?"

He all but growled, offering you one tortuously slow gyration of his hips in order to ensure your understanding of his less than subtle connotations as the hand that had once gripped so tightly to your hip moved swiftly beneath your dress, rubbing firmly against your bundle of nerves through your undergarments as you gasped both out of humiliation for where he had you so plainly in need of him, as well as out of arousal at his confident and ever beseeching touch.

And then suddenly, you were giving fervent and almost pleading nods in response to his previous question, having given up entirely on any hope of completing your most important project of the day.

It was, after all, May Eve, and how else should one hope to properly celebrate the coming of the Spring if not by blossoming beneath the touch of the queen's beloved second son?

And, it was as Loki had so cleverly stated himself,

It was not as if you would not be arriving swiftly and permanently within Frigga's good graces soon.

No, not if the god of mischief had his way,

Not if the two of you celebrated Walpurgisnacht in the way that Freyja herself had intended.

Loki Tag List: @mischief2sarawr

Additional Tag: @lokisgoodgirl (thank you very much for so kindly answering my anonymous questions regarding the SAS earlier! I've found that I have yet to develop the courage necessary to directly message any (other) particular authors yet, but I figured I can at least step outside of my comfort zone and tag you as you oh so kindly gave me permission to in your reply. Thank you again for your encouragement! <3)

[epsilbunny]

What would you guys like to see? I'm going to make some Loki smut. First person to give me. An idea of what they want to see I'll make their idea into a story!

[sassquish]

A Birthday Surprise

Part 2.

Summary: THIS IS PURE SMUT. Part 2 to: AU where Loki joins the Avengers after Ragnarök. You are also a member of the team (fem reader). The two of you are a couple living together at Avengers HQ. Loki wants to give you whatever and whoever you want in the bedroom on your birthday.

Warnings: Smut, size kink, ddlg (daddy/baby as endearments), threesome, voyeurism, degradation, mention of breeding, traffic light system (but only green lights).

***********************************************************************

I promised this part 2 about seven months ago 🤦‍♀️

Apologies, and thank you to those you commented! I tagged you in case you need some monster smut in your lives right now.

I have an idea for a fluffy part 3, hopefully it won’t take another 7 months.

************************************************************************

https://sassquish.tumblr.com/post/664134843299414016/a-birthday-surprise

Loki looked back at me. Realization finally dawned on his face. “Darling, this was your plan all along,” he said with awe.

I hummed and started rubbing my thighs together again. If my clit wasn’t given the attention it needed soon, I was going to pass out. I finally told him what my real birthday wish was.

“Please Loki, I’ve wanted you like this so badly since I saw you laid out on our bed. I couldn’t stop thinking of how much work I would need to do to suck you and fuck you and please you. You would never talk about it. Please stretch me everywhere, please,” I begged pathetically.

His face broke into a big, gorgeous smile. Staring into my eyes, Loki bought his face closer. He growled, “The role of the trickster is mine darling. I’ll have to punish you for this.”

I started to take a deep breath, but it was cut short when he flung me onto the bed and the force of the landing pushed it out again.

“Take up the position, slut.”

“Yes, daddy”, I squealed with an eager grin.

I went onto all fours, laid my head on my folded hands in front of me, arched my back, and stuck my ass up. I snuck a look at him to my right, where he was searching through our drawer of toys. My brain was still adjusting to his Jotun form standing in our room. I couldn’t make out what he was grabbing, his huge body shielded my view. He turned his head back to me in what was probably meant to be a stolen glance. With two steps, he came over to me, grabbed my face in his hand and forced me to look up into his red eyes.

“What is that look for slut, huh? Did I say you could watch me? You’ve added another 10.”

I groaned with pleasure and closed my eyes, preparing for the feel of our leather flogger on my ass. He used his thumb to caress my cheek,

“Look at me baby”.

I opened my eyes.

“I’m not used to my Frost Giant form sweetheart, so we’ll have to calibrate before we begin properly. Ok darling?”

I whined and wiggled my ass.

“Use your words baby girl, or you won’t be getting any of it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Before another moan from the praise could leave my mouth, he bought his hand down to my right ass cheek swiftly, and the sound came out a squeal. The sensation of the thud and the sound of the smack on my jiggling flesh sent a wave of warmth through me.

“How did that feel, baby?”

“5.”

“Good.”

Another thud came down just on the edge of the last one, and this smack resounded around the room.

“7.”

Moving the placement of his hand yet again, he gave me another.

I choked out, “9”.

With that, he lightly caressed where there was undoubtedly a red hand print.

"What's your colour?"

"Green."

“Good girl, we’re feeling like a little pain slut today, are we?”

He smacked my other cheek.

“Yes, sir. I’m such a slut for your punishment. Please?”

“You’re enjoying this far too much sweetheart”, he said as he glided the flogger softly from my lower back, down my ass, and further down my left thigh.

I breathed deeply, enjoying the feel of the soft leather on my skin.

As I was relaxing into the loving caresses,

SMACK.

A grunt left my mouth.

“Count, baby girl.”

“One, daddy.”

Loki continued to flog me, sometimes giving a few at a time in slightly varying spots as he moved from the top of my ass down to my thighs. From time to time he would give me a break, softly dragging the leather over my cheeks, until the final five. I was in that wonderful meditative state, the only focus of my brain were the sensations my Loki was gifting me with.

“Remind me, how many has Daddy given you, pet? Hmm?”

“15, Daddy.”

“I saved the best for last for you baby girl.”

He bent over me and placed his two big hands on the bed on either side of my head. His arms enclosed by body and growled he in my ear, “the rest are for your sloppy. Little. cunt.”

That sent a shiver down my spine.

I groaned and whined, “Yes Daddy, please touch my sloppy cunt, it’s all for you, please.”

He chuckled and placed a kiss on the back of my head before straightening up.

Immediately, the leather hit my clit.

“Ohh Yes Daddy, 16.”

He was merciless when it came to my pussy and I got all of the smacks in quick succession.

“Such a good girl”, he cooed.

Finally, FINALLY, I felt one of his fingers glide along my pussy lips.

“Babygirl, you are such a depraved little slut. You’re always wet for me, but I don’t think you’ll need any lube even with me in this form”, he said with awe.

I moaned and grinded against him.

“Look at you, desperate for friction. Pathetic slut.”, he breathed.

“Yes, Daddy, I’m your slut please, please use me.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know sweetheart, it took you some time to get used to my human cock, let’s see just how much of a slut you are.”

With those filty words, he slowly began to slide his finger into my dripping hole.

“Ohhhh Loki” I gasped and wiggled onto him further.

He gasped in shock and I stopped, not sure what it meant. He flipped me onto my back and all my coherent thoughts disappeared. He towered over me, red-eyed, dangerous looking, but my beautiful blue Loki.

He bought a hand to my throat and asked me threateningly, “Whore, how are you taking my finger so well already? It’s almost as big as my human cock.”

He looked over to Bruce, who had been intently watching the entire show. The Hulk was looking desperate, clearly edging himself, trying not to cum before we were finished playing.

Loki looked back at me, raising an eyebrow, “Have you..?” he began.

“No Daddy, never!”

“Then, how”, he snarled as he squeezed a little and looked into my eyes.

I managed to squeak out the answer, “I practiced…look in our drawer.”

His expression was confused as he released me and stepped back to our toy collection.

“Under the bottom panel.”

He turned and looked at me with a smirk, “Another trick sweetheart, that means 10 more for you later.”

My pussy throbbed. He rummaged around and took out the false bottom, flinging it to one side. I purred low in my throat. Seeing Loki fling chunks of solid wood around like it was nothing was turning me on even more.

He chuckled deeply and turned around, holding what had been my little secret since the fantasies of him taking me in his Jotun form began.

"A blue monster sized dildo. What a depraved slut you are. I can't believe you've been sleeping beside me this whole time and I had no idea. It matches me perfectly."

He raised his eyebrows and I saw his genuine smile of pleasure before he replaced it with a smirk.

"It's not quite as big as our Green friend or I, but nonetheless, you're going to show us how seriously you've taken your training, darling."

He pulled me up onto my knees, took a fistful of my hair in his hand, and pulled my head back to look up at him.

"Open wide, slut."

I did as I was told and stuck out my tongue, the anticipation of finally having a hole filled completely adding to the stress on my painfully throbbing pussy.

Loki gently laid the dildo on my tongue and rubbed it up and down, teasing me. My mouth was watering for it. When I couldn't stand it any longer, I pushed my mouth onto it, and groaned with the stretch. He tisked and bought his hand up to cup my chin and throat, looking me in the eyes with my mouth full.

"Such a greedy little thing."

He removed the dildo from my mouth and I pouted.

"Did I tell you to put that tongue back in your whore mouth, hmm?"

I quickly stuck it back out again.

He used the dildo to give little slaps to my tongue while he squeezed my face a little. It felt like he was squeezing the wetness right out of me. When he eased up be spread the spit covered dildo all over my face.

"Such a pretty little pet", he said before giving me a peck on the lips.

"I can see you've been so studious that you can take this toy easily sweetheart. So how about we give you a challenge?

My eyes lit up.

"BUT your showing off is making me impatient darling, I want to start warming up your pussy. I'm so fucking excited to feel you around my Jotun cock. So why don't we ask our friend here to help us?"

He cocked an eyebrow and looked over to Bruce. Bruce's eyes widened in surprise and his hand froze on his cock.

Loki looked back to me and whispered, "would you like that, honey?"

"Oh yes please Daddy!", I squealed.

He chuckled low in his throat, "what an eager little slut you are, I love it."

He kissed me, then we both looked to Bruce.

He stuttered, reminding me of the old Bruce Banner, "Uhh guys, are you sure?"

I smiled and said, "Yes Bruce, I'd like to play with you. If you want?"

He smiled shyly, nodded, and rose out of the armchair.

Loki put me back on my hands and knees. I was facing Bruce standing on one side of the bed, and my Jotun was behind me on the other side.

My head was dizzy with need and disbelief. I was about to be spit roasted by my two favourite monsters.

Something flashed from the corner of my eye, and I turned my head to look towards the end of the bed. Loki had summoned a huge mirror, big enough to reflect the three of us. I had a huge grin on my face as I saw saw my two lovers staring back at me. I moaned and wiggled my ass. Loki pulled my hair from behind, so I was looking up at Bruce.

"What do you say to our guest, sweetheart?"

I gave Bruce my best doe eyes, " Please, put your cock in my mouth Bruce baby."

"Good girl".

Bruce smiled widely, "Don't have to ask me twice."

He stroked his cock a few more times, then repeated what Loki did to me with the dildo. He rubbed it on my tongue before pushing his hips forward until my mouth was full, then paused. It was the fullest my mouth has ever been. I was already drooling all over it, there was no space left to swallow back any spit. He started to press further, until I gagged. He eased out a little and whispered, "Good girl".

Feeling more spit drip down my chin made my pussy drip even more.

Bruce repeated this, slowly, a few more times. I used one of the breaks to look in the mirror.

God, I looked like a fucking whore, and I loved it.

What I loved even more was Loki starting at me in the mirror, and stroking his cock.

He smirked and said, "darling, I think you can take more than that. Take a little more, then I'll touch you. How about that, sweetie?"

I grinned and turned to Bruce. I let Loki's hand guide my head onto the green cock, I breathed, tilted my throat open and let Bruce slide in. I breathed through my nose and when I was sure I could manage, I pushed my head another inch and stayed there.

Both men growled and the vibrations shook the bed. I was startled and gagged all over the huge member. A stream of spit went all over the both of us. Bruce looked down at me and rubbed it into my hair, "God damn Y/N, no one has ever taken me that deep, that was amazing".

Loki started to drag his fingers across my sopping pussy lips, "look at me Y/N".

I turned to the mirror and watched him slowly push the tip of his middle finger into my pussy. I groaned and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. He was already hitting my two sweet spots, the one just inside my entrance, and the other much deeper. He took his cock in his other hand and manoeuvred it so it lay between his palm and my clit.

"What do you want sweetheart?"

"Please fuck me Daddy, please rub my clit so I can cum please."

With a grunt Loki started grinding into me, my slick making it so easy. All of the play had me so stimulated that it didn't take long for me to reach the edge of climax. Between the friction on my clit and Loki pressing those magic spots inside me, I was lost in my pleasure.

"Let go baby, cum for me."

I tumbled over the edge and writhed through the most intense orgasm I ever had. I don't know how long it took my mind to join the two men back in reality. Loki was looking at me in the mirror. It was the same look he had just moments ago, but the intensity of his hunger was startling now that I had some relief. I wanted to give him the same.

"Thank you Daddy, I feel so good. But I need more, please fuck me with that big blue cock, please".

He wasted no time in bringing his tip to my entrance. Looking in my eyes, he pushed his hips as far as my stretching cunt would allow. I moaned and panted with every inch. The fullness was overwhelming. Then he withdrew, and repeated. He felt perfect.

"Loki, you feel perfect my love."

He grinned and continued grinding into me like that, using not even the top half, and he placed a few fingers under my clit for me to get friction. It felt heavenly. I looked up at Bruce and stuck out my tongue. He had been stroking himself and wasted no time in filling my mouth again. I closed my eyes and relished feeling so full and watching myself be used by these two gorgeous men. I knew I wouldn't last very long, even if I did just have an orgasm. Loki started to pick up the pace of his strokes and took a fist of my hair in his hand.

"Look at you, look at my sweet little whore taking more dick than I've ever seen anyone take".

Then, he growled, "I'm so proud sweetheart."

I moaned at the praise.

He continued in a rough voice, "But you're not even a little whore, are you? At least whores get paid for letting monsters use their bodies. Not you, you're just a fucking slut who can't get enough dick. Are we even enough for you sweetheart?"

His words made me moan and I constricted around the cock in my throat.

Bruce made a surprised noise and pulled himself out before cumming and filling my mouth. I made a satisfied moan and swallowed what I could while still panting and grinding due to Loki's minstrations. Before I could see Bruce's eyes return to us, Loki flipped me over onto my back and continued to grind. He rubbed his hands all over me, before settling them on my waist, covering most of my torso.

He was moaning and groaning "Oh sweetheart, this is better than anything Valhalla could offer me, please let me see you cum around my cock, please".

"Yees Daddy Jotun, you feel so fucking good."

I watched his large frame tower over me and his big cock struggle to fit inside me. A few circles around my clit was all it took for an even more powerful orgasm than the first to wash over me,

"Loki" I screamed.

With the clenching of my pussy, Loki was also gone, "Y/N".

I felt him tense and I squealed at the odd sensation that followed. I could feel his cum shooting inside me, and it was cold. It took my pleasure addled brain a beat to realise why that was. When I did, I started to giggle.

I watched Lok's face as he came down from his pleasure. His eye lids were droopy and he leaned down to kiss me and to rub our noses together.

"Darling, we just had the hottest sex ever, what is so amusing hmm?"

"Sorry Lo, I just felt how cold your cum is. Are you going to impregnate me with little icicles?"

Loki started giggling too and he whispered contentedly, "Happy birthday, darling. Thank you for loving me".

Tags: @little-moonbeam-666 @cassiaodinsdottir @mellowfishcreatorshepherd @wannabemonsterfucker @lost-my-account25

[lokis-little-fawn]

Hostage (part 1)

Pairing: Loki x Fem!reader

Word count: 3k

Summary: this is part one of (probably) two parts!

Taking place after the battle in New York, you are a Shield agent sent to capture and return Loki to the avengers.

It’s based around the song Hostage by Billie Eilish 💚

My requests are open for any ideas you have!

Warnings: none really yet, the next part will probably contain smut. Being taken hostage, use of a sedative, being tied up (in a hostage sense not in a kinky sense)

The first time you saw him, you felt a tightening in your chest. Your heart felt still, but simultaneously like it may explode from you.

Being a shield agent you knew that you would probably meet some interesting people, but you never thought that one of them would be a prince from another world.

A second thing you knew was that you had to place your job above all things. Being not only attracted to but also in solitary love with the person you were supposed to hate the most. Although You knew deep down in your soul that he would never feel the same way for you, still you always held onto hope. Especially when the next mission you had been given by shield was to capture the handsome god and hold him until they decided what to do with him next.

The god had been on earth for a few days since he had almost taken over New York. Having escaped the avengers your first job was to track him down.

After a day of reconnaissance you had discovered that since coming to earth he had been staying in a hotel under a false name. Since you found him you got to know his routine. Every day at eight in the evening he leaves his room dressed in a black suit and makes his way down to the bar. He has the same drink every night, a bright green liquid in a tall martini glass, and then makes his way back to his room on the top floor. He wasn’t exactly hiding, but out of his Asgardian armour, no one batted an eyelid at the beautiful stranger sitting alone at the bar.

Booking yourself a room at the same hotel, you pack your bag. Firstly you fill it with all the things you would need to take the god hostage. Then you place in some weapons, having heard about his flair for the dramatic you wanted to be prepared Incase things went south.

You packed some comfy clothes to potentially fight in, and finally you placed a dark black, silk, knee length dress and matching lingerie.

You smiled to yourself, knowing you were about to meet the flawless god you had been thinking about so often over the last few weeks. Doubting that he would ever get to see, or even want to see the lingerie you had packed just Incase.

Throwing everything into the bag you get dressed smartly so not to stand out while checking into the hotel.

You call a taxi and throw the bag over your shoulder.

Walking out of your house you jump into the taxi.

As you watch the world pass by you contemplate your plan for the next few days. How you’ll capture Loki, how you’ll call Shield and ask them for next steps, and what you’ll do once your free of this mission.

Before you know it you’ve arrived at the hotel. Stepping out of the taxi the sun beams down, flooding everything you see with bright light. Walking into the foyer you take in the beautiful lobby around you. Other than the light flooding through the enormous windows the foyer is relatively lowly lit. The floor is made from white marble and the walls are gold, all of the reception desks are elegantly decorated with gold motifs with large decorated mirrors behind them.

‘Hello, I’m here to check in’ you say confidently, walking over to the reception desk.

‘Yes, certainly Madame. Can I please take your name?’

The man says in a thick British accent.

‘It’s Miss Smith, I have a reservation’ giving your false name and hoping that shield actually booked you a room.

‘Yes here you are. Your room is number 205 on the top floor, If I could just get you to sign here for me’ sliding some papers over the desk you sign your fake name and pass it back.

‘This is your room key and I will have your bags taken to your room. if there is anything else I can help with, please don’t hesitate to ask.’ He passes the key over and flashes you a brilliant smile.

‘Thank you Mr Pine’ you say reading his name from his badge, smiling and making your way to the elevator.

You step into the mirrored golden elevator alone, pushing the button to get up to your room. Stepping out of the elevator you survey your surroundings. You know that Loki is saying room 208 a few doors down from you.

Reaching your room you open the door and close it behind you. Your bag has already made its way to your room. You unpack your things, hiding weapons and other suspicious items in draws and cupboards around the hotel room. You get changed and prepare yourself to complete your mission later.

A few hours later, the sun has dropped below the horizon. Wearing your black silk dress and black stilettos with red soles, you check your reflection in the mirror. You carry a small clutch bag, you’ve packed some lipstick, your key card and a needle containing a light sedative.

You breath in deeply and head back downstairs using the elevator.

Waking into the dark cocktail bar you immediately make out Loki’s silhouette sitting alone. Same black suit with his jet black hair brushing his shoulders.

You make your way over, taking a seat a few down from Loki.

You notice his green is a bright green colour.

‘What will you have?’ The bartender asks.

‘Whatever that is, can you charge it to my room’ you say pointing to Loki’s drink.

A few minutes later the bartender returns

‘Here you go, one Absinthe’ he passes you the martini glass with a curled slice of lemon on the side

‘Oh, thank you’ your eyes widen, realising what the drink you’ve just ordered actually is.

You sit alone at the bar, keeping a subtle eye on Loki the entire time. He never looks up from his drink, he seems distracted. ‘Well if I had just almost taken over the world I’d be a little distracted too’ you think to yourself.

You slowly sip away at your strong drink. Watching Loki finish his, he walks across the lobby and back to his room.

You follow behind him, heels clicking loudly on the marble floor. Taking the opposing lift you arrive on your floor at the same time as Loki. Just outside of your room you have to think of something to get his attention.

‘Excuse me, sir. Did you drop this?’

You call out holding out a key card

‘I guess I did, thank you’ he says in a low voice, taking the card from you. Just as he turns away you pull the needle containing the sedative out of your bag. Confidently grabbing him you stab the needle into his neck, hard, and inject him with the sedative.

As he collapses you pull him into your room.

Waking up a few hours later, Loki looks around the room. Immediately trying to stand he finds himself tied to a hotel chair. The bindings holding him to the chair are simple handcuffs attached to either arm. Rapidly realising that he could escape with no problem he decides to stay, just as a momentary distraction from the boredom of hiding out in a hotel.

You pace around the room, phone in hand tapping it lightly into your palm. You know you should call Shield, the plan was to call them the second you captured Loki but for some reason, you couldn’t do it. You remembered all the nights you sat alone thinking about him. Loving him, alone. You couldn’t just give him up. you had no idea what sheild were intending to do with him, they dont tell you those details it’s just your job to apprehend the target. But you couldn’t bare the thought of anything happening to him.

‘Ehem, excuse me, am I interrupting something’ you hear him sneer from the chair in the corner of the room.

Breaking your concentration, you snap out of your thoughts with a small gasp.

‘If you would be so kind as to tell me who you are, and why I am tied up in your room it would be greatly appreciated’ he says with something verging on humour in his voice.

‘I’m Y/N, I work for shield and I’m supposed to be handing you over to them’ you say trying to sound as if everything is going to plan.

‘Supposed to?’ Loki questions.

‘Yeah, I’m just about to call them to collect you, see’ you hold up the phone, the number already typed in ready to be called.

‘Hmm, I see’ he replies ‘or alternatively you could not do that and instead just let me go’

You smile at his words.

‘unfortunately that’s not an option. I have to hand you over, they’ve only given me two nights at this hotel and I’m expected to have you for them by tomorrow night’

‘But something tells me that you don’t want to, as in the time I’ve been here you still haven’t contacted them’ He claims confidently.

‘I-I don’t know what to do with you’ sitting on the end of the bed in front of Loki, placing your phone next to you.

‘I can think of a few things’ a suggestive tone in his voice.

‘Ha ha very funny. I mean, I know I should give you over, and I’ve never had this problem before, but for some reason I don’t want to’ you trail off, looking at the floor.

‘Darling, could it be that you have a soft spot for me?’ The god mocks, but you think you can hear a sincere note behind his words.

‘I-I don’t know, I don’t, I haven’t, I’ feeling flustered you decide that stopping your sentence is probably the safest option.

‘My my agent! I think I might be correct. Well I can hardly blame you. You clearly have exquisite taste’ he taunts, feeling your cheeks heat to a crimson shade of red.

‘Shut up Loki! Your a criminal, I shouldn’t be feeling like this’ collapsing onto your back, hands covering your face.

‘Now now darling, don’t be embarrassed. If you could just untie me I could show you just how appreciative i can be’. Sitting up on the bed looking at him, he has lust in his eyes as he studies your form from the chair.

‘No, that’s definitely not happening. If I can’t decide what to do with you right now I’m at least keeping you until I know what to do’ you stand from the bed, looking at your phone you see that it’s already one in the morning.

‘It’s already late, would you like a drink?’ You ask him, as you walk over to the mini bar you find that your previous drink has taken ahold. The adrenaline must have been over powering the alcohol until now.

‘Yes, anything strong if you would be so kind’

You mix him a drink that vaguely resembles a martini. As you bring the drink over to him you realise that he can’t lift the drink to his mouth himself.

He looks up at you with innocence in his eyes. Taking the drink to his mouth gently he sips at the drink until it’s all gone. Only a little bit of it has rolled from his mouth and slowly makes its way down his chin. Using your thumb you softly wipe the remaining liquid from him, maintaining an innocent eye contact with the gorgeous god.

‘If I were free, I would have kissed you by now’ he says, lightly pushing his face into your hand kissing your palm. You feel frozen in place. Unable to move other than your eyes darting across Loki’s face.

After a long silence you break eye contact and turn around to face the bed.

‘It’s late, we should get some sleep’ you say, walking over to the closet and pulling out a pink silk night dress.

You step into the bathroom taking off your evening dress and lingerie, placing them in a neat pile on the floor.

Quickly changing into your night dress you remove your makeup and brush your teeth. Reasoning with yourself in the mirror you regain the confidence to walk back into the room with Loki.

Walking back into the bedroom Loki sits still in the chair. His eyes strolling down your body, taking in your form standing before him.

‘What?’ You question walking over to the bed pulling back the covers.

‘Nothing’ he says, his eyes breaking with your body strolling back up to meet your face.

‘Am I really expected to sleep in this chair?’ He asks.

‘Well I can’t un-cuff you, you’ll escape’ you say, feeling like your stating the obvious.

‘You could always cuff my hands together, that way I’m still mostly harmless’

Waking back over to his chair you uncuff one of his hands from the chairs arm and cuff it to his other wrist before releasing him from the chair completely, leaving only one set of cuffs attached to him by his wrists.

You stroll away from him hopping into bed.

‘You can sleep on the sofa’ you say gesturing to the sofa by the window.

‘Oh come on, I’m already being held hostage you may as well make my situation as comfortable as possible’ his sentence trails off.

‘For fuck sake fine! Get into bed. I never thought having a god around, who apparently has super powers, that you’d be so needy’ you joke.

Just as the words escape your mouth he shrugs, his clothes change from a suit to some kind of Asgardian looking pyjamas. Green linen clinging to his body with gold detailing around the neck of his top and around the bottoms of his trousers.

‘I’d you’d be so kind’ he gestures to the blankets.

Lifting up the corner next to you he climbs in.

‘So you do have powers. With the amount of time you’d been here I was starting to think they were a myth’ you joke.

A feeling of cold washes over you. Usually when you’d had bedmates before you had felt warmer for their company.

Loki notices the bumps form on your arm.

‘I’m sorry, I run a little bit colder than the average midgardian’ He looks almost sad, as if he’s done something wrong.

‘Is that an Asgard thing? Are all of your people as cold as you?’ You question, immediately feeling that you’ve touched a nerve.

‘No, it’s a Jotunheim thing. I was adopted by Odin, but I was born a frost giant. I apologise, maybe i should sleep on the sofa’ he sounds hurt, like you’ve touched on something he tries to keep to himself. As he tries to step out of bed you grab his wrist.

‘No! It’s fine, please don’t leave. I always get too hot in the night anyway’ you say with a soft smile.

He settles back into bed. Shuffling down underneath the covers you place your head on the pillow facing in Loki’s direction. He follows your lead and covers himself with the blankets facing towards you. So close you could almost touch if you just reached out for him.

As soon as your head hits the pillow you let our a light yawn. Looking at Loki he lifts a cuffed hand and all the lights in the room dim.

Your happy that in the dimmed light Loki hopefully can’t see the persisting blush that creeps across your cheeks every time he looks in your direction. Closing your eyes you start to slowly drift off, thinking through every conversation with Loki you feel a small smile spread across your face.

‘Stop’ you hear a deep voice growl out.

‘Stop what?’ You query.

‘Stop thinking so loudly, also for the record I think you look beautiful when you blush’ he says, a light smile spreading across his face.

‘No, you can’t hear me think, please say you haven’t been listening to everything I’ve thought since I brought you here’ your words causing a deeper blush to spread across your face, feeling like you could melt into the ground and die if the handsome stranger has heard your thoughts about how much love you hold for him.

‘I haven’t listened to everything, only the good parts’ he mocks affectionately.

‘Oh god’ you groan, rolling onto your back and covering your face with your hands once again.

‘Don’t be embarrassed darling, I think it’s endearing. Besides, after everything, there aren’t a whole lot of people that think kindly of me’ his words filled with regret.

Rolling back onto your side You reach out for him in the dark, quickly finding him. You pull yourself closer to and without thinking you place a soft kiss on his cheek.

You can feel that his skin is wet with a tear that he has silently cried.

The more you learn about him the more you feel your emotions grow for him.

He reaches out in the dark, pulling you in closer with his cuffed hands.

He places one silky kiss onto your lips, his hands feeling desperate for any kind of sincere contact.

Kissing him back a few times you feel his emotions subside. You pull him in close wrapping your arms around him. After a long while of talking, You both fall asleep in each others arms.