Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@blackquartzsstuff
I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF
This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.
Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.
MAGIC POTATO GO!🥔
here we go again
reblogging the golden potato
hoping it will work
that my life will get a perk
@muddyorbsblr @mischiefmaker615 @blackquartzsstuff @vbecker10 @cueloki @multyunervisesuperfan @simplyholl @lindsey-laufeyson @eleniblue
Conquer
Part 4 of 5
Series Masterlist
Series Summary: The king intends to take a bride. You just never thought it would be you. (Soulmate AU where Loki won)
Chapter Summary: You learn something about Loki that changes everything.
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.
Chapter Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, a little dirty talk, praise kink, fluffy smut, p in v sex, oral sex (see series masterlist for series warnings)
A/N: Once again, this update took me a million years longer than I thought it would. Such is my writing process. Please let me know what you think! I love hearing from people.
You don’t expect Loki to have nightmares.
He’s not supposed to be like this, if you’re to believe the news stories, or even the obnoxious and overly confident demeanor that he shows you on a daily basis. The god who conquered the planet is not troubled by such pathetically human vulnerabilities. What could he possibly be afraid of?
And yet, here he is in bed beside you, thrashing against invisible enemies. There’s a tremor in his voice, a kind of terror that surprises you.
Perhaps that’s why you find yourself reaching for him.
It might not be a good idea—you don’t know if he’ll mistake you for whatever he’s fighting and you’ve never even thought to wonder whether he can use magic in his sleep. But he begins to quiet the moment you wrap your arms around him. You pull him close and he burrows his face in the crook of your neck and you’re startled to realize his cheeks are damp with tears.
The dream hasn’t quite left him yet, so you hesitantly run your fingers through his hair. It’s a bit nerve wracking, like a roaring tiger suddenly turning cuddly.
“Shh. It’s okay,” you say softly. “It’s just a dream.”
It takes a moment for him to wake, like he’s slowly surfacing after being dragged down to the depths. Though he clings to you like you’re a safe harbor in a storm, you can feel an entirely different kind of tension spreading through him as he wakes, like he expects ridicule and mockery.
And you’ve known him long enough now that you know what he’s going to do, so you interject before he can speak.
“If you do that thing where you act like a raging asshole in order to distract from the fact that you’re showing a shred of vulnerability, I will throw you into a fucking lake,” you say quietly.
He exhales sharply and it gives way to soft, surprised laughter that rumbles pleasantly against your chest. “How do you intend to find a lake at this late hour?”
“I have an entire palace staff at my beck and call, do you really think it will be hard?”
“I’m very tempted to let you try, simply for the entertainment.” His body at last relaxes and the tension you are holding eases, too.
You’re both quiet for a moment. Somehow, you know that you’re going to have to be the one to inch this conversation forward.
“Does this happen often?” you say, absently winding a lock of his hair around your finger.
“It’s worse this time of year.” He doesn’t elaborate further and you know tonight isn’t the night to ask him to.
“Does waking you help or is there something different I should do?”
There’s another pause. “This helps,” he says quietly, his voice so much more uncertain than what you’re used to. “If you don’t mind.”
There would have been a time when you would have minded, when you would have gone off to sleep on the couch and privately reveled in his discomfort. But that particular rage has quietly eroded over the last several months to something gentler. You’re not really sure which version of you is the right one—whether you were too harsh then or too soft now—but you can’t help feeling that this moment requires a little kindness.
“No,” you say, “I don’t mind.”
He relaxes just a little more and you know that this was the right thing to say, even if you’re not quite sure what it means or where to go from here.
“You should sleep,” he says after a while.
“You should too.” You run your fingers through his hair and he sighs. “I’ll wake you if it happens again.”
He nods and after a while, you both drift off.
Every night for the next several weeks, you’re woken by Loki thrashing against a nightmare.
Each time, you crawl over to him and pull him close, murmuring soft assurances. Sometimes he wakes with a start, his heart pounding so hard you can feel it drumming against your own chest. Other times, it’s slower and quieter, a gradual lifting of tension that fades into a shudder.
Most times, he doesn’t want to talk and simply lets you hold him, his head resting on your chest while you stroke his hair.
When he does want to talk, it’s in quiet, heartbreaking fragments. He speaks of a mind that was not his own, of an insidious presence that crowded out his own thoughts and made his blood run too hot, drawing out fevers and madness that tore holes in the tapestry of his memory. He speaks of blood that still stains his conscience from deaths he doesn’t remember.
Over the course of these weeks, you realize that you are getting an entirely different picture of who he is, like stepping back and seeing that the disjointed dots you were looking at were actually a mosaic all along.
All the while, a question burns on your lips, until one night you’re brave enough to ask it.
“Why haven’t you shared this?” you ask as you hold him, his head resting on your chest. “Why do you let people think the worst of you?”
His laugh is bitter and brittle. “Who would believe the god of lies?” The sharp edges of his tone are rounded with a little bit of sadness and a deep kind of loneliness that makes your heart ache.
“I do,” you say quietly. “I could tell them.”
You feel him soften slightly. “You shouldn’t squander your good will on me.”
“I don’t know that I have much in the way of good will.”
“Public opinion polling would suggest otherwise.”
You sigh. “I can make my own decisions about what I do with whatever political capital I have. You don’t have to protect me.”
He props his head up to look at you. “I know you mean well, but you’d be giving them an excuse to tear you to shreds. They’ll say I’ve bewitched you and that you can’t be trusted. I cannot allow you to put yourself through that for my sake.”
He looks serious—like this actually matters to him, like he cares that they’ll try and hurt you—which you aren’t expecting. You weren’t expecting any of this conversation, to be honest. You smooth your thumb against the furrow between his brows. His expression relaxes slightly, but not completely and you find yourself wishing you could do more.
“I’ll drop it for now,” you say after a moment, letting your hand fall from his face.
He raises an eyebrow. “But not for good.”
He always hears the unsaid part.
“Not for good, no,” you concede. “But I’ll give it some time before I try to revisit it.”
He sighs and rests his head back on your chest. “That’s annoyingly reasonable of you.”
“I still could throw you into a fucking lake. I won’t rule it out.”
His quiet laugh worms its way into your heart in a way it doesn’t normally. He’s a softer version of himself at night—more open, more honest, a sharp contrast from the bold and brash man who delights in teasing and needling you during the day. He’s different under the cover of darkness in the wake of his nightmares and you find that you’re a little different, too. Softer, perhaps. More forgiving. And in those moments, it almost feels like the two of you could be something more than what you are. Something different. Maybe something good.
It makes you question a lot of things.
Despite your best efforts and more caffeine than is probably good for you, the interrupted sleep starts to weigh on you after a couple weeks.
It’s not excessively awful—you’ve experienced worse sleep issues in your life—but when Loki catches you taking an unintentional nap in the library one afternoon, your rest becomes something of an obsession for him. There are black out curtains installed in your room that very evening and a selection of sleeping masks laid out on your bedside table. Your schedule is blocked off in the mornings so you can sleep late and your afternoons are peppered with time slots labeled Rest.
Much of his fretting feels unnecessary and overdramatic…but there’s a small, secret part of you that kind of likes being the focus of his attention in this way and sometimes you want to bask in it like a cat in a sunbeam.
You won’t admit this though—you hide it by sighing and telling him you have it under control or gently teasing him for being overdramatic. None of this deters him—and as the nightmares get worse, he grows only more insistent.
“You should cancel the meetings you have today.” It’s the middle of the night and he’s woken several times already, each time worse than the last.
“I’m fine.” You smooth his hair. “I don’t have anything until one.”
“It’s that ribbon cutting, isn’t it? Cancel. They can reschedule.”
You roll your eyes. “I think you’re overreacting.”
“Why shouldn’t I be concerned?” he grouses. “You need your sleep.”
“So do you.”
He sighs. “Darling—”
“I am not having this argument with you in the middle of the night.” You run your fingers through his hair, dragging your fingernails against his scalp in a way that you know he likes. “Go to sleep, Loki.”
He relaxes, leaning into your touch, a pleased groan rumbling in his chest. “Oh, you’re not playing fair, you minx.”
You snort. “You’re just annoyed I’m co-opting your methods.”
He lifts his head to look at you. “Maybe I am bewitching you if you’re co-opting my methods.”
“I am perfectly capable of behaving badly on my own.”
His grin turns sly. “Oh, don’t I know it.”
You roll your eyes and shove him playfully. “I thought you were worried about me not getting enough sleep.”
“I am.” He hesitates for a second, then reaches for you, hand cupping your cheek. “I can sleep in the guest suite—I mean it.”
“Say it again and I’ll throw you into a fucking lake.”
That familiar flicker of warmth worms its way into your heart with his quiet laugh. “Noted.” He looks at you for a moment, thumb tracing your cheekbone. “Thank you,” he says. “For all of this.”
“Of course.”
He studies you for another moment before leaning in and kissing you.
It’s slow and tender in a way that he usually isn’t, in a way that makes you want more. You melt against him as you kiss him back.
He settles himself in the cradle of your hips, his hands stroking your cheeks and throat. You can feel his cock twitch against you, but he seems content to kiss you for now.
He draws back before you’re ready. “You should sleep.”
You shake your head. “I wasn’t finished.”
You tug him back down to you, drawing him back into that mind melting kiss. He’s still so slow and gentle and you can’t get enough of it—it’s never been like this before. There’s a kind of tenderness in his touch that feels addictive and makes you want him in a way you never have before. Desire smolders in your hips as you press closer.
Your hands map the broad, firm muscles of his back, sneaking under his shirt so you can rake your nails up his spine. He shivers in your arms and you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips tentatively against him.
“Loki—”
He draws back slightly. “Let me take care of you first.”
That sends a thrill through your body. “Okay.”
He sits up, kneeling between your legs, taking your hands in his and kissing each finger, ending with a kiss on the inside of your left wrist, his tongue tracing the line of your soulmark. Your entire body responds, your nerves buzzing with electricity and your stomach fluttering as heat pulses between your legs.
He drops your hands and pushes your nightgown up to your waist, hooking his thumbs around the waistband of your underwear and pulling it down your hips and off your legs with a practiced ease. He lowers himself to his stomach, dragging needy, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thigh as he inches upward. He presses one chaste kiss to your slit and then he’s licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit.
This, too, is different than how you’ve done things before. His mouth is equal parts slow and sweet as he gently works you closer and closer to bliss. You moan his name like it’s a prayer and he reciprocates with caresses that feel like worship. He lavishes attention on your clit, kissing and coaxing and stroking until you feel like that entire bundle of nerves is thrumming in his mouth. His fingers soon curl inside you, moving in time with his tongue, stroking that tender spot and drawing still more slickness from you. You moan his name, one hand twisted in the bedsheets, the other in his hair, as if to anchor yourself for the release that you know is coming.
It only occurs to you right as you’re about to come that this is one of the first times—perhaps the only time—that he hasn’t teased you. He has responded to every whimper, every plea by giving you more, by curling his fingers just so or flicking his tongue faster against your clit. He’s giving you everything you ask for without making you beg for it first, without withholding anything, or bargaining or negotiating.
It’s rather beautiful, you think, right before you come with a sharp cry.
His mouth softens slightly as he eases you through the aftermath, stroking you in time with your pulsing cunt, but not quite as firm or frantic as before. It’s a delicate balance, one that he’s perfected since your very first time together. He knows the exact moment to start moving his fingers again, when to suck just a little harder on your clit and draw you back up to that soaring height until you come again, your fingers twining in his hair.
“Loki.” You’re still shaking with aftershocks when you’re able to form words and the first one that comes to you is his name. “Loki, please.”
If this were any other time, he might bargain with you to stay between your legs a little longer—he loves to make you squirm and bring you past reason with the power of his tongue—but he’s yours tonight in a way that he isn’t normally during the day and no argument materializes. He presses a parting kiss to your clit and crawls up your body to you.
“I need—”
“I know, my love.” His voice is soft and reassuring, almost tender.
Before you can tug at his pajamas, there’s a shimmer of green and they’re gone, along with your nightgown, only the heat of your bodies between you. His lips and tongue taste of you when he kisses you and you reach between your bodies to line him up at your entrance as you wrap your legs around his waist.
With one devastating thrust, he’s inside you, hot and throbbing and moving in a slow rhythm that makes your toes curl.
“You’re perfect,” he breathes. “Just perfect.”
He kisses you deeply and slowly as he rocks against you. He makes a low noise in the back of his throat when he finds an angle that you both like, one that makes you tighten on his cock. He doesn’t stop kissing you, not until the oncoming swell of your orgasm starts to leave you panting and gasping for air. He’s getting close, too, the sweat beading on his brow and the growing wildness in his eyes a sure tell.
“I’m close.” You’re surprised you can get words out at all.
He increases his pace just slightly and tilts your hips just so and you suck in a sharp breath.
“Come for me,” he murmurs. “I need to feel you come.”
You whimper and your orgasm ripples through your hips and belly like a wildfire through a prairie during dry season. Your cunt squeezes hard on his cock and he lets out a deep groan as your end triggers the start of his. He thrusts hard and empties himself inside you, mumbling your name over and over until you stop his mouth with a needy, searching kiss.
It’s a long moment before he stills. You can feel his heart beating in a frantic tattoo against your chest.
“Will you sleep now?”
“Only if you do.”
Neither one of you wakes until morning.
Against Loki’s objections, you do make it to the ribbon cutting the next day, but you know right away that it was a mistake. It’s a fight to keep your eyes open, especially toward the end, and Sigurd has to wake you when you arrive back home. Loki is thankfully supposed to be in a meeting, so you’ll be able to skip his lecture and smug I-told-you-so’s and head straight for a nap.
Instead, Sigurd opens the door to your residence to reveal Loki waiting, arms crossed over his chest.
“Bed,” he says before you can say anything.
Despite your obvious exhaustion, your instinct is to push back. “I’m fine.”
Loki looks at Sigurd. “She fell asleep in the car, didn’t she?”
Sigurd doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes, your majesty.”
“Sigurd!” you say with a scowl. “I thought we had an understanding.”
Sigurd is unmoved. “Apologies, your majesty.”
“Sigurd is rightly respecting the oath he swore to me as king,” says Loki, dismissing Sigurd with a nod.
“Well, when do I get staff who’s sworn to me?” you say grumpily.
“We’ll discuss it later. Right now you need to rest.”
Regardless of the new and confusing feelings that have been occupying your thoughts, you still don’t like admitting when he’s right, even when it’s over something relatively minor. You find yourself leaning into it even more now.
“Loki, I’m fine—”
“You’re exhausted.” Before you can reply, he’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you in the direction of your bedroom.
“You are way overreacting,” you grouse at him, even as you stifle a yawn and let your head drop against his shoulder. “And what happened to the meetings I saw on your schedule?”
“I rescheduled them, as you should have done.”
“So you’re allowed to make your own decisions about your schedule, but I’m supposed to listen to you about what I do with my time?”
“Well, I’m being reasonable; you’re being absurd.”
The blackout curtains are already drawn in your bedroom, giving the room a dark and cozy feel, even though it’s the middle of the day. There’s a shimmer of green and your clothes transform into a nightgown—one of your favorites.
“I’m going to be such a pain in your ass if I ever get magic powers,” you grumble as he sets you down on the bed.
“Fortunately, it doesn’t work like that.” He sits down on the bed next to you.
“What are you doing?”
He lets out a soft laugh as he pulls you to him, spooning up against your back. “Do you really expect me to leave you unsupervised? You’ll be sneaking out of the room the second I left.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Liar.”
Annoyed as you are, your body is starting to give into the comfort of your bed and the warmth of Loki’s arms.
“I want to state for the record that I’m annoyed with you and I think you’re overreacting.”
“I look forward to hearing about it after you’ve rested.” He pulls a blanket over the two of you and your body automatically relaxes. You know that you’re going to be asleep within minutes.
“Good. Because you will be hearing about it.”
He laughs quietly and kisses the back of your neck. The idea of arguing seems silly as your eyes grow heavier and finally, you give it up entirely and allow yourself to drift off.
Your sleep is so deep and dreamless that it feels like hours have passed when you wake. You’ve turned over in your sleep—you’re now pressed against Loki’s side, your head resting on his chest. He seems to be awake—he has a book propped open in his lap with one hand; the other is curled around your shoulders.
You’re surprised by how soft and cozy this is, how content you are to remain in his arms and quietly rest.
“I know you’re awake,” he says after a long moment.
“Still waking up,” you mumble. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten that I’m mad at you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You know, we’re both getting the same amount of sleep, but you don’t see me haranguing you about naps and skipping meetings.”
“One of the few advantages of my unique biology is that I don’t need quite as much rest,” he says, turning the page of his book.
You scowl. So much for that argument.
“I do think I should sleep in the guest suite tonight,” he says, absently stroking your shoulder.
“You’re going to be sleeping in a fucking lake if you keep this up.”
He sighs. “Darling—”
“You are being ridiculous. I’m not going to let you exile yourself from our bed so you can have a miserable night by yourself.”
You realize too late that you’ve said more than you intended. This verges too close to those strange feelings you’re still trying to work out—things that aren’t ready to be spoken or heard quite yet.
“Is that not a just punishment for my crimes?” His tone is mild—curious, perhaps, but he’s not trying to pick a fight.
“We both know it’s not.”
There’s a strange kind of pause. It’s not necessarily awkward, just…different. Even though your anger toward him has mellowed these last few months, this particular truth still feels strange to acknowledge. He’s not a monster—you know that now. But you both know that saying that aloud changes things. You’re going to have to examine other truths that you’re not quite ready to face.
So you bury it and change the subject. “What are you reading?”
“One of your Midgardian plays.” He flips it over so you can see the cover. The Tempest.
“What prompted that choice?”
He pauses and you get the sense that he’s weighing his words carefully. “An effort to understand.”
You’re not quite sure if he means you or Earth at large, but that new, warm glow is wiggling its way into your heart again. “That’s a good choice,” you say quietly.
There’s a pause again. “Perhaps you’d be able to suggest some others.”
He sounds so hesitant and careful and that warm glow in your chest expands. “I’d be glad to,” you say and you’re surprised to find that you mean it sincerely.
You close your eyes, intending to doze, but all you can think about is that book. It’s clearly a new copy, but some of the pages are dog-eared and something about that makes your heart feel like it’s about to crack open. How do you live through such profound hurts and still reach for understanding?
The pull of your soulbond is always relentless to some degree, especially when you’re this close, but you feel it now at a new level of intensity, a deep ache that makes you subtly press yourself closer to him. The desire for sex is certainly there, but it’s more than just that, though you can’t quite articulate why or how.
He shifts slightly and you automatically snuggle in closer to him, slipping your leg over his waist for good measure.
“You’re awfully affectionate,” he says, readjusting his arm around your shoulder.
You’re not quite ready to show your cards yet. “I’m just comfortable and sleepy.”
He hums. “One day, wife, you’ll remember that I can tell when you lie.”
You scowl. Goddammit.
“Perhaps you’d like to try that again?” His voice is rich with amusement.
You feel as though you are balanced on a precipice you never expected to be on. Your typical strategy in this scenario would be to snark back at him, to distract him with pointless arguing until it resulted in the sex that you’re craving, without ever having to acknowledge anything close to truth or vulnerability. But for the first time…you want something different. Something more.
And so, you take a deep breath. “I need you.”
“You need me,” he muses, running his fingertips down your shoulder. “How do you need me, my love?”
Your cheeks burn, like you’re admitting to some embarrassing secret. “Like last night.”
The book in his lap finally vanishes and he rolls on top of you, settling in the cradle of your hips. “Like last night?”
“Yeah, just slow and soft. It was…it was really nice.”
Your cheeks are burning. His expression is unreadable and you’re expecting him to tease you a bit, but instead he leans in and kisses you. It’s slow and deep, not unlike the way he kissed you last night, and you sigh, wrapping your arms and legs around him like ivy.
“Like this?” he murmurs against your lips.
“Yes.”
Both of your clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and his hand finds its way between your legs, stroking the length of your cunt.
“You’re already so wet.” There’s a pleased growl in his voice that makes you shiver.
“I did say I need you.”
His lips curl into a smile. “Fair point.”
You reach between your bodies to guide him to you. You think he might tease you, but instead he slowly presses into you and you let out a soft sigh as that ache inside you eases.
“Better?”
You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
His first few thrusts are slow, almost like he’s trying to get his bearings. He shifts his hips and suddenly he’s pressing deliciously against your clit on every stroke.
“Oh,” you breathe.
“Right there.” He rolls his hips with the perfect amount of slowness. “That’s what you need.”
“Yes.” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Fuck. That’s so good.”
“Do you feel how we fit together?” he murmurs, running his fingers along the curve of your cheek. “We were made for this, my love.”
He’s looking at you so intently that for a moment, you want to believe he means more than just the physical satisfaction of the act, that there’s actual affection behind it, that he feels something real for you. It’s a startling thought, though not as scary as you once thought it might be. You should probably think about it more, but it’s getting hard to concentrate as the aching warmth in your hips begins to send you hurtling toward your climax. You resolve to think about it later.
Your fall is exquisite, a decadent and shivering rush of pleasure that renders you breathless before fading into a high pitched moan from the back of your throat. Loki keeps up his slow pace, watching you with a kind of wonder.
He lowers his lips to your ear. “Do you know how beautiful you are when you come?”
You gasp as the angle of his hips hits the exact right spot.
“I’d commission a portrait of you like this,” he says, pressing a kiss against your jaw, “but I can’t bear the thought of sharing you with anyone else. This is just for me to see. For us.”
There might have been a time when that sort of possessiveness would have raised your hackles, when you would have snapped at him. It doesn’t bother you now—maybe it’s the way that the two of you are wrapped up in bed together during daylight hours while the rest of the world spins on, maybe it’s the sight of that dog-eared book in his lap and the thought of the lonely nights he’s spent plagued by terrors, but something about those words soothe rather than rankle.
(You’ll eventually figure this out, but you’re not there yet).
The relentless motion of his hips is bringing you back to the edge again, a little quicker than you expect, but certain all the same. He raises his head to look at you, his gaze wonderstruck as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. But you recognize the signs that he’s struggling to maintain his control—the slightly unfocused eyes, the frequent gasps. He can last a long time when he puts his mind to it, but you don’t want that right now. You want to see him fall apart, to feel him succumb to you right as you give in to the inevitability of him.
You’re nearing the edge, but you have time to breathe out a plea. “Come with me. Please.”
He groans and increases his pace just slightly, and that’s enough to tip the scales for you. You cry out, surrendering to the rolling tide within you. His voice joins yours as he arrives at his own end, hips stuttering and then eventually slowing to a halt. He nuzzles your neck and exhales.
You lie there together for a long moment, his heart pounding hard against yours. It’s such an easy closeness and you’re reluctant to let it go or disturb the quiet. But an idea is percolating in the back of your mind and after a few minutes you open your mouth to speak.
“I’ll make you a deal.”
“What sort of deal?” His voice is slightly muffled against your shoulder.
“You can add an afternoon nap to both our schedules on days like this and I won’t argue,” you say, tracing your fingertip in a figure eight on his back, “but in exchange, I don’t want to hear another goddamned thing about you sleeping in the guest suite.”
He lifts his head to look at you, a wry smile twisting his lips. “Or you’ll throw me in a lake?”
“Or I’ll throw you in every lake.”
His laugh is soft but genuine and he presses a kiss to your lips. “Very well. I accept your terms.”
You won’t know this until later, but this is the start of something new.
Next chapter coming soon
This was absolutely perfect!! So worth the wait!👌🏻💯🙏🏼
Your writing is as beautiful as always❤️
@vbecker10 @oswildin @muddyorbsblr @ash-muses @mischiefmaker615 @multyunervisesuperfan @blackquartzsstuff @lokisgoodgirl @marvelmcugirl
Thank you! I really appreciate this right now🫶❤️
I did the October calendar at work. So of course I had to put Loki on there. I think it turned out okay.
@vbecker10 @oswildin @muddyorbsblr @ash-muses @mischiefmaker615 @multyunervisesuperfan @blackquartzsstuff @lokisgoodgirl @marvelmcugirl
🤣 this is awesome! Your work place seems fun😂
Your Mistake
Title: Your Mistake
Pairing: Dark!Loki x Female Reader
A/N: This piece is part of the Sexy September Scribbles challenge, hosted by myself and @soelstress Sep 7th: 'Don’t you dare come until I say so'
Loki had you spread across black silk, wrists bound, thighs trembling as he loomed over you. Your cunt was already glistening, swollen and soaked, evidence of the orgasm you’d stolen without permission.
“One rule,” he murmured, voice silken, dangerous, as he dragged the head of his cock through your slick folds. Your wetness smeared across his length, dripping down to the sheets beneath. “One rule, and you broke it.”
He pressed in slow, stretching you inch by inch, until your back arched and your lips parted on a strangled moan. Loki’s thrusts were measured, deliberate, each one deep enough to make your cunt squelch wetly around him, never fast enough to tip you over the edge.
“You’ll stay here,” he said, his tone almost tender as his fingers stroked your jaw, smearing spit over your trembling lips. “Desperate. Until I say.”
The pressure built mercilessly, your body clamping down around him, begging for release. Tears blurred your vision as the orgasm surged sharp and hot, only for Loki to withdraw entirely. Slick gushed out of you, spilling down your thighs as you cried out, clenching on nothing.
He laughed darkly, smearing his cock across your belly, streaking you with your own cream. “Pathetic little thing,” he hissed, dragging his wet fingers down your chest, pinching your nipples. “Don’t you dare come until I say so. Do it again, and I’ll keep you like this forever. Stuffed full and never allowed to finish.”
Then he slid back inside, slow, devastating, watching the way your body shuddered, your slick soaking him. The sound of your cunt taking him echoed in the silence, obscene, endless.
“You’ll learn,” Loki whispered, lips at your ear as he drove you to the brink once more. “Your release belongs to me and I’ll ruin you with it.”
@mischiefmaker615 - This one's for you darling
LYHOM: Ch 11: The Desk
Summary: Charlotte and Loki have a quickie on his desk. WC 3.5K
Warnings: 18+, dirty talk, demeaning language, silencing, smut
Masterlist / Ao3
Charlotte had barely stepped across the threshold of his office when his hands were on her, strong fingers grasping at her waist and pulling her against the hard cock constrained beneath expensive fabric. He was as wound up as she was today.
His lips claimed hers with an intensity that made her knees weak, and she heard herself giggle into his mouth as he reached behind to lock the door. Her body responded instantly to his touch, a rush of heat flooding her core as she pressed herself against the hardness of his body, pleased at his lack of a suit jacket today.
Classical music played softly from his record player in the corner, the gentle melody a stark contrast to the urgency of their need to fuck each other. Vivaldi, Charlotte realized distantly, recognizing the piece.
“I couldn’t focus during your lecture yesterday,” Charlotte admitted as Loki kissed her neck, and her hands slid up his chest to feel the firm muscles beneath his shirt. “All I could think about was this...”
“I noticed.” She could feel his arrogant smile against her skin. “Your cheeks flushed every time I looked your way. Did you think of my mouth on you? My tongue tasting your sweetness while you struggled to stay quiet?”
His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, dampening her panties more as her body prepared itself for him. “Yes,” she gasped, unable to lie. Her honesty was rewarded with another searing kiss and deep groan from him.
With practiced ease, Loki maneuvered her backward across the room, groping her ass as he pushed her towards his desk. She delightedly ran her palms down the expanse of his back, feeling the shift and play of his shoulders as he moved against her.
Her lower back hit the wood of his desk, and he broke their kiss, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. His own were dark with desire, the blue nearly swallowed by his dilated pupils. A few strands of black curl fell across his forehead in a way that made him look younger, wilder.
“Now, kitten, I’m going to fuck you senseless, and you’re going to be quiet.”
Kitten?! The use of a nickname combined with filthy words caused Charlotte’s heart to hammer against her ribs.
“Yes, sir,” she managed, her voice already trembling with anticipation. She was going to try her hardest to be quiet, but she knew it would be difficult.
His fingers deftly found the zipper of her skirt and drew it down with her panties in practiced ease. A gasp escaped her lips as her wet pussy was exposed to the cool air, and she smiled up at him. He returned her expression with a wicked smile, and she clenched her thighs together.
Loki pulled the hem of her sweater, his touch leaving trails of heat against her skin as he slowly pushed the soft fabric upward. Unlike the quick disposal of her skirt, he took his time with this, savoring the gradual reveal of her body, a slow unveiling that heightened her anticipation.
Charlotte stood before him in only her black lace bra, which she had deliberately chosen for today. She loved this one– the delicate fabric cupped her breasts, offering them up like a gift to him. Despite her heartbeat loudly drumming in her ears, a surge of pride swelled within her as his eyes darkened at the sight, his lips parting slightly in appreciation.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
Charlotte felt her cheeks flush at the compliment, her body responding to his approval as much as to his touch. Loki easily removed her bra, the lace joining the growing pile of discarded clothing, leaving Charlotte completely bare before his hungry gaze.
With a fluid motion, Loki lifted her onto his desk. She settled back, propping herself up on her elbows, a position that thrust her breasts forward in unconscious offering. Loki accepted the invitation without hesitation, his head bowing to her chest, his mouth finding her flesh with urgency.
His lips and tongue moved messily across her skin as though he couldn’t get enough of her taste. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue finding her nipple made her head fall back, her eyes fluttering closed as pleasure coursed through her. He licked and sucked with single-minded dedication, the suction creating a direct line of sensation from her breast to her aching cunt, where wetness pooled and gathered.
One hand came up to cup and massage the breast not currently receiving attention from his mouth, his fingers kneading the soft flesh with a pressure that balanced expertly on the edge between pleasure and pain. His thumb brushed across her nipple in teasing circles before pinching lightly, causing her hips to buck, her pussy clenching with need.
A breathy gasp escaped her as he grazed his teeth lightly over the sensitive peak, and Loki paused in his ministrations to look up at her, a warning clear in his expression. Charlotte bit her lip, nodding.
“Down,” he gently commanded as he pushed her chest down, her back slowly laying on the desk that had warmed under the sunlight. His stare traveled over her body with palpable heat– he looked at her as though she were a feast laid out for his pleasure, a delicacy to be savored and devoured. It made Charlotte want to simultaneously shrink and disappear and moan loudly like a wanton whore.
Looking up at Loki as he stood between her spread legs, his usually perfect appearance had begun to fray at the edges– his hair loosening from its styled perfection, his cheeks flushed with desire, his breathing noticeably quicker.
The afternoon light caught in his dark hair, highlighting strands that appeared almost blue-black in certain angles. His eyes, so often cool and distant, now burned with an intensity that stole her breath. God how she wanted to see his body, his muscles rippling and tensing as he fucked her hard. She watched as he unbuckled his belt and pulled his hard length out, which sent a jolt of anticipation through her.
Loki’s hands moved to her legs, grasping her calves with firm pressure and lifting them to rest on his clothed shoulders. He entered her in one swift thrust, his cock easily breaching her tight hole.
“Oh god…” she gasped, her fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth surface of his desk.
The sudden fullness, the delicious stretch of her body accommodating his impressive size, caused Charlotte’s eyes to widen and her back to arch off the desk. It was overwhelming, and she couldn’t help the loud moan that erupted from her as he filled her completely. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get used to how big he was.
Loki’s eyebrows furrowed as he withdrew slightly, only to thrust forward again with deliberate precision. “Quiet,” he commanded, his voice a harsh whisper that somehow carried more authority than a shout.
Charlotte felt her inner walls clench around him, a reflexive response to the exquisite pressure against that perfect spot inside her. Her eyes, unfocused, drifted to the tiled ceiling, and she wondered briefly if anyone walking in the hall could hear them, but the thought was quickly swept away by another precise thrust. Who fucking cares.
“Such a dirty bitch,” he darkly chuckled as he began pounding into her rhythmically, the desk creaking slightly with each movement. “Laying here spread out for your professor. For me to fuck as I want…have my way with…” She bit back another moan as he fucked her hard and fast; he wasn’t going slow today.
Loki’s hands moved from her hips to her breasts, his large palms cupping and massaging them. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, circling the sensitive peaks and pinching them.The dual stimulation– his cock filling her completely at this angle, his hands working her breasts– was almost too much to bear. Charlotte felt her eyes drift close, surrendering to the tide of pleasure washing over her, allowing herself to be carried away.
“Look at me while I’m fucking you,” Loki ordered, through harsh pants.
Her eyelids shot open immediately, her gaze meeting his. His eyes were wild, untamed, like those of an animal— it was so fucking hot.
She watched his face as he fucked her, mesmerized by the intensity of his expression, the flush spreading across his cheekbones, the way his jaw clenched with effort. “You feel that, kitten?” he growled, his voice dropping even lower. “Feel how perfectly you take me? How your tight little cunt grips my cock like it was made for it?”
Charlotte nodded, unable to form words. She bit back another moan as Loki fucked her hard and fast, his rhythm unrelenting as the wet slaps of their flesh echoed around them. His hands trailed down over the taut plane of her stomach, fingers splaying wide. One hand moved to grip her hip while a thumb reached her clit, finding the swollen bud with precision and applying just the right pressure.
The sudden, additional stimulation caught Charlotte off guard, sending a pulse of such intense pleasure through her that she couldn’t contain the wanton cry that spilled from her lips. In an instant, Loki’s hand shot forward, covering her mouth firmly with his palm.
“I thought I told you that you need to be quiet,” he spat, the words were delivered through clenched teeth, his jaw tight with the effort of maintaining his own control as his hips maintained their punishing rhythm.
Against his hot palm, Charlotte moaned again, the restriction only intensifying the pleasure coursing through her. There was something deeply erotic about being silenced this way, she was going to come any minute. Fuck. The scent of his skin filled her nostrils with each slutty pant.
Charlotte’s eyes remained locked with Loki’s, unable to look away even if she wanted to. His thumb moved more insistently against her clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, creating a perfect symphony of stimulation that had her climbing rapidly toward climax. Charlotte could feel the tension building, a coiling pressure that demanded release. Her inner walls clenched around him involuntarily, drawing a hiss of pleasure from between his teeth.
Loki shifted his weight forward, his body leaning over Charlotte’s as he braced a forearm on the desk beside her head. She cried out into his hand from the sensation– her legs still draped over his shoulders but now pressed closer to her chest, opening her even further to his relentless invasion. She felt split in half, the angle was brutal but exquisite. Her hands moved unconsciously to his arms, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.
This new position shifted him deeper inside, and his thrusts became more insistent, more focused. Charlotte could feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein of his cock as it pistoned in and out of her with relentless precision, her body stretched around his thickness.
Loki’s face hovered inches from hers, his breath hot against her skin, his hand still firmly clamped over her mouth. The proximity was overwhelming– he surrounded her completely, his presence inescapable, his dominance absolute. He bared his teeth as he rammed into her, his expression feral. Sweat dampened his brow, causing inky strands to cling to his forehead.
Sweat tickled her skin, gathering in the hollow of her throat and between her breasts, making her body slide against the desk with each powerful thrust. The intensity in her abdomen built rapidly, her muscles tightening as Loki’s cock abused her g-spot relentlessly. Each thrust seemed more powerful than the last, his rhythm becoming less controlled, more urgent.
“You like this, don’t you?” Loki asked in between low grunts, his hand gently squeezed around her mouth. “Having to keep quiet while I fuck this tight little pussy of yours? The fear that if someone were to hear you, we’d be caught?” His filthy words made her tighten around him. She knew she should feel shame, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
A muffled “mmhmm” in agreement was all that Charlotte could muster, fighting her eyes from fluttering closed as the coil inside tightened.
“And what if I tied you up?” he continued. “You’d fucking love that, wouldn’t you, kitten? Bound and at my mercy, unable to move while I take my pleasure from you, while I explore every inch of this delicious body.”
She nodded as she looked into his wild blue eyes. She wanted him to tie her up, fuck her, use her, do anything he wanted to her. The muscles in her thighs tensed, and a sharp heat spread throughout her body.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. “Come for me, kitten. Let me feel you. Show me how good I make you feel.”
That pushed her over the edge. Charlotte’s orgasm ripped through her with devastating intensity, a tidal wave of pleasure that crashed over her without mercy. The world dissolved around her as her eyes closed tightly, reality fragmenting into pure sensation– heat and pressure and ecstasy radiating from her core outward until even her fingertips tingled with it. Her muffled cries of ecstasy were swallowed by Loki’s palm as she convulsed around him, her inner walls clenching rhythmically, drawing him deeper into her body.
The rhythmic clenching of Charlotte’s cunt around him proved to be Loki’s undoing. Each pulse of her orgasm gripped his cock in exquisite pressure, a milking sensation that pushed him rapidly toward the edge. His rhythm faltered momentarily as the first wave of his own climax approached, his hips jerking forward in an unconscious bid to bury himself deeper within her welcoming heat.
Loki gave one final, powerful thrust, burying himself to the hilt within her as he came with a barely contained groan that reverberated through her chest. His body trembled slightly as the waves of pleasure washed through him, his hips making small, unconscious movements that prolonged his release. Charlotte’s oversensitized flesh registered each tiny motion, each pulse of his cock inside her sending ripples of aftershock through her still-quivering body. Deep, ragged breaths filled her ears as his head fell next to hers, his loosened curls tickling her cheek.
Loki’s hand slipped from her mouth, and Charlotte gulped in air, her chest heaving as she tried to regain her composure. Her eyes slowly opened, the cream colored walls coming into her periphery as they remained joined, heartbeats slowing as they came down from their high.
To Charlotte’s surprise, a low chuckle escaped Loki’s lips, warm breath cascading over the damp skin of her shoulder. The vibration of his chest against hers sent delicate aftershocks through her still-sensitive body. She felt herself laugh in response, a breathless, intimate sound that bubbled up from somewhere deep and unguarded within her. Their quiet laughter mingled in the sunlit air between them while the soft classical music played in the background.
Loki adjusted his belt and ran a hand through his disheveled hair, watching as Charlotte collected her clothing off the floor with wobbly legs, still shyly covering her body with her hands when she could.
He allowed himself to enjoy the view, appreciating how the late afternoon sun played across her body, catching the subtle sheen of sweat still visible on her skin. There was something particularly satisfying about watching her reassemble herself after he had so thoroughly taken her apart. His body hummed with a pleasant exhaustion, muscles loose and mind clear in a way that only ever followed particularly satisfying sex.
“Well, thanks, Loki. That was fun,” she said, her voice carrying that particular blend of satisfaction and awkwardness that followed their encounters. Loki watched as Charlotte pulled her panties back on. The thought of his cum pooling in between her thighs as she sat in her next class sent a new wave of heat through him.
“Oh it was my pleasure, kitten. Although for someone who was instructed to be quiet, you weren’t particularly successful.” Loki gracefully walked to his tea cart, poured a glass of water, then took a seat on the couch.
A blush crept across her cheeks, but her lips curved into a smile as she focused on clasping her bra. “Maybe you should try harder to keep me quiet next time.”
“Is that a challenge, Miss Baker?,” he replied, enjoying the playful defiance in her expression.
Her grin widened. “Maybe.”
“Well I would enjoy taking you up on that.” Loki raised his glass to her before savoring a sip of the cold water.
She snickered as she glanced at him while she smoothed out her sweater and attempted to tame her wavy brown hair. Norns she was cute. Loki felt a swell of amusement and maybe guilt? This young woman was putting herself back together after he had just bent her in half and fucked her ruthlessly– the least he could do was have a casual conversation with her.
“Did you do your reading?,” he asked, immediately regretting his unintentionally professional tone. Of course she did.
“Of course I did, Professor,” she replied, winking at him as before she took a long drink from the water bottle she brought.
“And what did you think?”
“Well I thought it was really interesting and totally against what people– humans– thought about how you influenced Norse mythology.” He watched as she pulled out a small compact mirror and reapplied her rose-colored lipstick with practiced precision.
“But of course Dr. Folger would probably disagree,” she continued in an annoyed tone. “What’s his deal, anyway?”
“Do you mean that terrible combover?,” he joked as she perched on the arm of the leather couch, her posture relaxing. It didn’t go unnoticed to him that she chose not to sit on the couch near him.
“No, his deal with you. I mean, he basically said those of us in both classes have to ignore what we learn in yours. He just seems so...miserable?”
Loki considered her question, and looked down to the swirling water in his glass. “Well that is my fault, I’m afraid.”
“Why?”
“Well, I exist,” Loki said with a slight shrug. “His entire career had been based on the myths around my family. When we first met, he was incredibly unwelcoming. And I wasn’t exactly forgiving, either. I may have… provoked…him on occasion.”
The memory made him wince internally. Folger had spent decades building theories about the psychological symbolism of the Loki myths, only to have the actual god appear and render his life’s work obsolete. Loki had even sent the man an annotated copy of his own published works with merciless critiques in the margins.
“I get that his life changed– all of ours did when Thor came down here. But you’re Loki Laufeyson, with thousands of years of stories to tell. How incredibly fortunate as a scholar to have the actual source to talk to! I can’t believe he wouldn’t be excited about that!” He felt a beam of pride in her indignation on his behalf. Probably just post-sex hormones.
“Yes, well, I think he saw the reveal of our existence as a personal affront to his life’s work,” Loki explained, watching the play of emotions across her face.
“Imagine dedicating decades to understanding something, building your reputation on your unique interpretation, only to discover that your fundamental assumptions were wrong. It’s not merely academic for someone like Folger. His identity, his sense of self, is deeply entwined with his expertise.”
Her brow furrowed in thought, creating a small line between her eyebrows. Why did that comment appear to bother her?
“For him, it was an existential crisis. If he was wrong about something so fundamental to his life’s work, what else might he be wrong about? What meaning does his contribution have if the very subject of his study contradicts his conclusions?”
Charlotte’s expression softened as she absorbed his explanation. “That actually makes me feel a little sorry for him,” she admitted, then quickly added, “But he’s still a terrible teacher.”
Loki laughed, “On that point, we are in complete agreement. And while I find Dr. Folger’s attitude irritating, it’s hardly the worst slight I’ve endured in my long existence. So I decided to hold back my opinions and life experiences around him, and he ignores me. He seems to appreciate that arrangement, and we have had no more quarrels.”
Charlotte studied him, her hazel eyes thoughtful. “You know, for someone who’s supposedly a cruel jerk, you can be surprisingly understanding…"
Loki felt a flare of discomfort in his chest. “Careful, kitten. Do I need to gag you with my tie?” he replied, pivoting his tone to a sexual nature.
“Promises, promises…,” she giggled softly as she hopped off of the couch, throwing him a flirty smile as she walked towards her bag.
Surprised at her abrupt end to the conversation, Loki set his glass down and stood to escort her out of the room.
“Have a good weekend, Professor,” Charlotte said with a final warm glance as she reached for the door.
“You, too, Miss Baker,” he responded with a nod. As the door closed behind her, Loki allowed himself a moment of reflection. She was going to be more trouble than he anticipated. And he was going to enjoy every minute.
-> Chapter 12- Sep 12
LYHOM Masterlist
LYHOM Spotify Playlists
Buy me a coffee 💚
Because I...I...I... I'm the monster that parents tell their children about at night?
Not From Me
Title: Not From Me
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Your face pressed into the mattress, muffling the broken sound that spilled from you as Loki’s cock dragged out, leaving you gaping, slick dripping down your thighs. Shame curled hot in your chest, the instinct to hide overwhelming.
But his hand slid into your hair, curling tight, and he wrenched your head to the side until your cheek pressed flat to the sheets. His voice was silk threaded with iron as he bent over you, his chest flush to your back.
“Oh no, darling,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “You don’t get to hide your face. Not from me.”
He rocked forward, slow and devastating, until the stretch made your lashes flutter and your mouth fell open on a whimper. The sound of him sliding back into you was filthy, messy, every inch coated in your wet heat. His cock filled you to the hilt, grinding deep, and when he pulled back, you felt the way your body tried to hold him, cream circling his cock before he pushed back in, agonizingly slow.
You sobbed, trembling, but his smirk pressed against your cheek as he whispered, “Beautiful. All this pleasure- it’s mine. I own it. I own you.”
His hips rolled again, deliberate, drawing out the obscene squelch, savouring every second of your wrecked body straining to take him. His hand held your jaw steady, forcing you to look at him from the corner of your eye, every ruinous expression laid bare.
“Don’t hide from me, love,” he purred, teeth grazing your temple. “I want to see you fall apart while I fuck you open. Every sound, every tear, every drop of you belongs to me.”
And with every slow, punishing thrust, you knew it was true.
And suddenly my Loki crush is awakened 😮💨
I just woke up, why do this to me? 🥺🥺
I lay here raw and bare and vulnerable, to be tortured with Loki being hot and possessive?
Am I a joke to you?
So okay, fine. Be like this😤
I know,, but also,,,, I'm not sorry and fuck you and your under wear in the best way...
Oh. MY. GOD! This is so filthy and perfect! Pure gold💚
There are no men like me
LYHOM: Ch 10: Changing Dynamics
Summary: Charlotte visits Loki in his office. They have a discussion about their arrangement. WC 5.2K
A/N: I'm taking a break for the next 2 weeks- Ch 11 will be posted on Sep 5!
Warnings: 18+, demeaning language, oral sex
Masterlist / Ao3
He just couldn’t help himself. Seeing her out of the classroom, coated in sweat and breathless. Looking like sex. Months of restlessness building until the dam burst, all culminating to him fucking his student in an alley like she was a common whore.
“Well, Nathaniel was right,” Loki murmured to his empty car, his voice tinged with sardonic amusement. Rules were not “his thing”.
Why had he failed her on that paper? That’s what escalated everything.
You knew what would happen. You always knew this was how it would end up. Loki cursed himself, his recklessness.
HIs hands tightened on the steering wheel as he navigated the bends of the countryside road, the melodies from a forgotten playlist on his car’s stereo had long since faded to the background of his mind.
He knew this was just the beginning. Now that he had fucked her, he had no intention to stop. His body felt pulled tight, but he now knew he had the relief he had craved. Someone to bow down to him, a beautiful woman who would submit. She’d be his plaything like he’d fantasized about– someone to distract him from the redundant life he was leading. He knew the situation was wrong– she was his student, and he was abusing his power. But he didn’t care. He needed this.
He knew she needed it, too. The way she had looked up at him in that alley, the pleading look in her eyes when she said she wanted him to fuck her. He hadn’t forced her against that wall; she’d pulled him closer, her hands as eager as his own. That was a raw and unfiltered need, like his own desperate hunger.
Memories of the night flashed through his mind– the way she’d bitten her lip to stifle her cries when he first entered her, the way she clung to hip as if he filled her like no one else could. The memory was so vivid he could almost taste the salt of her skin, feel the rapid flutter of her pulse in her neck beneath his lips.
Loki felt warmer thinking about how it felt to sink his cock inside of her. The initial resistance as he’d pushed into her, her slippery cunt tight around him, followed by the exquisite yielding as she accepted him completely. Each inch had been a revelation, a conquest.
And that ever-present danger that someone might walk down the alley, might recognize them, might report what they’d seen– that risk had been invigorating, adding an edge to every sensation, every sound. With Charlotte pinned between his body and that brick wall, he’d felt alive again. Powerful. Himself. The risk, the transgression, the sheer wrongness of it all had awakened something long dormant in him– not just lust, but purpose. A reminder that he was not merely Professor Laufeyson, but Loki, a being of chaos and desire who took what he wanted regardless of rules or consequences.
And what if we got caught? The question seeped into his thoughts like a tempting whisper. How could they get away with it? What if someone had seen them in that alley behind the club? His other student? This would be reported and he would lose his job, it would be in the papers. Then Thor would know. Then what?
Should whispers of their affair slither through the halls of the school, the fallout would be catastrophic. No amount of cunning could save him then; no charm or wit could erase the stain of scandal on her. The damage would be done.
In this quiet space, he admitted to himself the stark truth: he didn't care if they were caught.
This was what he needed, craved with an intensity that eclipsed caution and decorum. The God of Mischief was finished playing by mortal rules– it was time to make some of his own.
Charlotte knew that he had said he would see her on Tuesday, but she couldn’t wait. She had decided to chance it. His office hours had been hard to find, naturally. They were printed in a tiny font on the final page of her syllabus, and for only for a few hours a week. Of course the hours were at odd times, too: Mondays in the morning, Wednesday in mid afternoon, and Friday at lunch time. It’s as if he planned that so no one would ever visit him.
The location of his office hasn’t been easy to find, either. Definitely on purpose. As she walked down the quiet hall towards the library, she realized she was incredibly nervous. He had made it very clear that students weren’t supposed to just show up at his office hours– it was by appointment only. Maybe he’d make an exception to see her? Charlotte’s body thrummed with anticipation, and she felt she was already damp in her panties.
He was her teacher– someone she absolutely should not be involved with. But Charlotte couldn’t leave it alone, couldn’t stop thinking about the pleasant ache in her desperate cunt after he had filled her. She was drawn to him like a moth to flame, and she wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing.
She had tried to go through the rest of her weekend as if it hadn’t happened, but his shadow invaded everything. His kiss, his skin, his touch. His sharp jawline and his voice dripping with superiority when he talked dirty. The way his unrelenting cock filled her, both a torment and a relief. Her shoulders shrugged back the slight sting on her skin, the area still healing from the scrapes. How was she supposed to survive this?
She had never had a professor kink before, but Loki sure gave her one. Loki…could she call him that now?... obviously got off on their power dynamic, and Charlotte loved it, too. She didn’t know she had this side of her, but something about him made her want to get on her knees. Worship him. Let him do anything he wanted with her. Was that fucked up?
The reality struck her for the thousandth time since Saturday. She had fucked a fallen god. A god. A shudder of arousal rippled through her body. A being who had traveled to worlds she couldn’t even dream of. Who knew secrets to life that she wasn’t close to understanding. A man who had battled others in multi realm wars for millennia.
And he wanted her. She thought about the filthy words that came from his perfectly sculpted lips. Soft, yet fierce lips that threatened to devour her. And she was ready to be devoured.
The battle of need pounded through her, deafening as she came to a wooden door in an abandoned hallway. On the door, a placard read “Loki Laufeyson”.
Charlotte’s knuckles barely grazed the wood before a curt “Come in” cut through the silence. The irritation in Professor Laufeyson’s voice made her stomach flip, but she pushed the heavy door open anyway.
“It’s just me, Professor,” Charlotte said, her voice soft, uncertain as she slowly opened the door. She stepped in, and was immediately taken aback by the large size of his office– it was some of the nicest real estate she had seen on campus. Book cases lined the left and right walls. Comforts that you would expect in a home, not a professor’s office, accented the space: a large couch, coffee table, record player, and even a small table for snacks and a kettle.
Her scanning eyes landed on Professor Laufeyson sitting behind a large wooden desk in front of a row of tall windows. Leaning back in his chair, an artful display of indifference, his black hair shimmered in the sunlit room. Charlotte felt her knees go weak, just at the sight of him.
A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lip– he didn’t look surprised to see her. Arrogant. Sexy and arrogant.
“Miss Baker, please close the door behind you. I thought I said I would see you on Tuesday,” he drawled, standing up from his expensive leather chair.
“I know,” Charlotte replied, closing the door while her voice broke with nerves. “I– I thought we could talk?”
“You didn’t come here to talk,” he said, rounding the desk. His eyes were hungry, tracing every curve of her body as he walked past her. Charlotte heard the click of the door behind her locking, and it sent a chill through her body.
Slowly, he walked around to face her, but still left space between them. “Even after I’ve given you what you want, you still do not listen,” he taunted.
Oh shit I miscalculated.
Concern began to seep in her mind, unsure if she had crossed a boundary. “I’m sorry, Professor, I’ll leave–”
He suddenly kissed her, and the world tilted. His lips were soft at first, a gentle greeting to reassure her. Charlotte melted into him, dropping her bag to the floor as she tangled her fingers in his silken hair. His hands cupped her face as he explored her mouth again, his tongue searching, massaging her own. The kisses became increasingly more fierce, fevered, and he pulled back.
“You will not,” Loki said, pulling back slightly, his breath hot against her lips. He stepped back again, space between them as he began to circle her, studying her. Her heart raced, the blood pumping in her ears, threatening to drown out his words.
“You’re always so good at following directions, and yet you ignored me when I said I would see you tomorrow.”
Oh, that’s what we’re doing.
Another game. He wasn’t really annoyed with her. He loved it, this push and pull.
“I’m sorry, Professor. I’ll listen to you next time,” Charlotte whispered, biting her lower lip seductively, as she met his hungry eyes while he passed around her again. What was his plan here?
“It turns you on, doesn’t it? This dynamic?,” his deep baritone voice whispered in her ear, as he leaned his body towards hers from behind, causing a rush to her already aching pussy.
GOD YES. Not wanting to seem too eager, she simply nodded.
“Very well,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Kneel here in front of me. I’m sure you know what to do to make up for your disobedient behavior.”
Charlotte didn’t bother to hide her wicked smirk as she bent to the floor. She could hardly contain herself, this was unbearably erotic, and everything she craved. Her knees sank into the pile of the carpet in front of him, heat pooling in her core.
Her eyes drifted to the bulge in front of her. He was so hard already. Hard for her. Professor Laufeyson looked down, a command in his eyes. He nodded, giving her the silent okay to proceed.
With trembling hands, she reached up to his black slacks, gently unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, reaching for the cock she so desperately craved. As she pulled it from its confinement, it sprang free, heavy and imposing. Her eyes widened– he was even bigger than she remembered. She hadn’t gotten a good look in the alley, and now to see it– long and thick in the daylight of his office– was a lot. He was definitely a God.
As her hand wrapped around his girth, her fingers unable to fully encircle his width, the contrast between her pale fingers and his pink flushed skin sent another throb of arousal through her. The weight of him against her palm was substantial, the skin was soft, like velvet over steel. She gently pulled his foreskin down, exposing an engorged head, perfectly red and wanting. A bead of precum had formed at the tip, catching the daylight like a tiny crystal.
She glanced up through her lashes to find Professor Laufeyson watching her with dark, patient eyes, his composure still intact despite the quickening rise and fall of his chest that betrayed his own anticipation. Charlotte’s mouth watered, eager and ready.
She ran her thumb experimentally over the head, spreading the wetness at the tip in a slow circle. His sharp intake of breath was barely audible, but in the quiet office, it registered like a shout. Encouraged by this small reaction, Charlotte smiled to herself and repeated the motion, adding slightly more pressure.
After several strokes, she leaned forward, her lips hovering just above the tip. His scent filled her senses as she extended her tongue, tasting him with a tentative lick that traced the sensitive underside of his cock from base to tip, savoring his salty musk.
This earned her a more pronounced reaction– a soft exhale that might have been the beginning of a breathy moan before he controlled it. Charlotte looked up again, finding Professor Laufeyson’s eyes had darkened further, his pupils expanded until only a thin ring of stormy blue remained. His smoldering gaze held hers as she repeated the action, this time taking the tip into her mouth.
“That’s right,” he growled. “Suck your professor’s cock.” His hand came to rest on the crown of her head, fingers threading through her hair in a touch that was both gentle and unmistakably controlling. Fuck. It’s like he was made to push all her buttons.
As Charlotte’s lips parted and she took Professor Laufeyson’s swollen dick deeper into her mouth, the weight of his hand on her head guided her movements. Inch by inch, she engulfed him, feeling his smooth shaft slide past her lips and against the warmth of her tongue. He was so huge, so perfect, and she sighed around his hardness, savoring the way he filled her mouth. Her eyes drifted forward with focus, the only visual was his crisp white shirt that had tucked into his pants.
Charlotte slipped her lips further down his shaft, taking almost half of his impressive length into her mouth, while her hand moved to cover the base of his shaft, sliding up and down where her mouth couldn’t reach. She established a careful rhythm, taking him as deeply as she comfortably could before retreating. Her free hand rested on his thigh for balance, and she could feel the taut quadriceps beneath the expensive fabric, the controlled strength he held in check.
Her tongue swirled around the ridge of his head, and his cock twitched inside of her mouth. A salty tang of precum joined the taste of his warm skin, enveloping Charlotte’s senses. He tasted like heaven. She hollowed her cheeks, increasing the suction as she moved, and was rewarded with a low groan from above.
“Good,” he murmured, “That’s it, Miss Baker. You were made for this. So eager to please. So willing to learn.” His voice dropped to a seductive purr, sending shivers down Charlotte’s spine.
His breathing had grown more pronounced, intermixed with soft grunts, the careful control he maintained beginning to fray at the edges already. Loki’s hips began to slowly rock in time with her movements, a gentle fucking motion that heightened their shared arousal. Saliva pooled in her mouth, slipping down her chin in a cool trail as she took him deeper and deeper with each bob of her head.
“That’s it. You’re such a good little cock slut, aren’t you?”
Charlotte whined around him at the demeaning language. God it was so fucking hot, she could feel herself getting wetter from his filthy language. The salty yet clean taste of his heavy cock was almost too much to bear, the high of the moment setting her body on fire, igniting nerves she hadn’t known existed. She wanted more of him; needed more of him inside of her.
Relaxing herself, she took him even deeper into the hot cavern of her mouth, feeling his cock hit the back of her throat, eliciting a moan from both of them. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, and she felt a slight pinch in the corners of her mouth.
“Perfect,” he breathed heavily. “Just like that.” The praise sent warmth cascading through Charlotte’s body, settling low in her abdomen with insistent heat. She felt a surge of pride at bringing this composed man to the edge of abandon.
She could feel his muscles tensing through his pants as he struggled to maintain control. His breathing came harsh and ragged, and she knew he was getting close as she maintained a steady pace. She pressed her tongue against the soft spot at the base of the head, swirling it around the sensitive spot with devious intent.
“Fuck,” he cursed as his hips jerked forward involuntarily. His hand in her hair pulled her even closer, until she felt herself gagging on him, a loud squelch echoing in the office. After a moment, he loosened his grip, allowing her to pull back and catch her breath, lips still connected at the tip. His cock throbbed in her mouth, the head swollen with his impending release.
Professor Laufeyson’s free hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing the stretched corner of her lips where they met his flesh. Charlotte looked up at him without interrupting her motions, finding his eyes intent upon her face. His eyes were darkened to midnight, and for an instant, something unguarded flashed across his features, before she took him deeper again. His head tilted back, chin towards the ceiling and his lips parted with a deep growl.
“Yes, take it all. I’m going to come and you’re going to swallow it down that pretty throat,” he commanded, his hips pushing himself deeper. His controlled breathing had turned into heated grunts, his voice deep and strained as he urged her on. The sound of his pleasure echoed in the room, mingling with the wet sounds of her mouth on his cock.
“Don’t stop. Just like that. Don’t–”
With one final, forceful thrust, Professor Laufeyson tensed, a deep groan ripping from his throat while his hand tightened almost painfully in Charlotte’s hair. She felt his cock pulse in her hand and on her tongue as he came, his seed shooting against the back of her throat. She swallowed reflexively, greedy for every drop of him. The salty tang filled her senses as she continued to suckle on him gently, milking every last drop down her throat from his contracting shaft.
Loki’s rough voice murmured curses in a language she didn’t know as he rode his wave of pleasure, his hips still gently bucking. Charlotte kept her mouth wrapped around his cock, her lips and tongue working in concert, coaxing every last shudder, every involuntary twitch of pleasure from his body. She slowly eased her efforts, letting her mouth linger in a softer, gentler caress as the aftershocks tremored through him.
Above her, her professor’s chest heaved, his usually perfect composure shattered. His head bowed with eyes closed, a faint but genuine tremor in his thighs. His hand in her hair was gentler, stroking now rather than gripping.
She continued to gently lick and suck up his shaft, softly running her fingers up and down his length. Her eyes fixed on him as the waves of his pleasure gradually subsided, and his breathing steadied. She slowly removed her mouth from him with a “pop”, and brought her sleeve up to her chin to wipe the drool that had poured out of her mouth. She knew she looked a mess, but she didn’t care.
Professor Laufeyson looked down at her, his expression dark yet somehow tender. His hand, which had gripped her hair with such authority moments before, now traced a gentle path along her cheek, thumb brushing across her lower lip.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her very bones. Charlotte gently captured his thumb in her teeth, and sucked on it, winking up at him. He let out a soft gasp, “Oh Norns, what am I going to do with you….”.
Professor Laufeyson’s hand guided her away from his softening cock as he began to rectify his clothing. She watched as he tucked himself away with efficient movements that somehow maintained his dignity despite the circumstances.
He bent down, his hands grasping her upper arms with gentle firmness, drawing her to her feet in one fluid motion. Before she could find her balance, his mouth claimed hers again in a gentle kiss. Their tongues explored each other again, but her heightened arousal made her push firmly against his body, her hands pulling at the back of his suit jacket as she increased the intensity of their kiss.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathing harder than before. His eyes had darkened again– even though he just came, desire still simmered beneath the surface. She was absolutely soaking for him, and her thighs involuntarily clenched at his look.
His hand moved from her face to gesture toward the leather couch. “Sit,” he suggested, though the word carried the weight of instruction rather than request.
Charlotte complied, her legs still unsteady as she made her way to the couch. She sank into its embrace, the cushions conforming to her body with expensive softness. She tucked her feet beneath her, suddenly conscious of the disparity in their states– her professor once again immaculately composed while she felt thoroughly disheveled, her hair a mess from his hands, her lips swollen. She self consciously ran her fingers through her hair, straightening the dampened strands his hands had gripped.
“Would you like a glass of water? A cup of tea?,” he asked, breaking the silence as he walked towards the cart in the corner– casually, as if he didn’t just have Charlotte on her knees, sucking his cock. The domesticity of it made her dizzy. Am I in a dream?
She bit her lip to hold back a large smile, and leaned back against the couch. “Uh, tea would be nice. Thank you, sir,” she answered hoarsely, her throat still sore.
Loki turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “There’s no need for that at the moment, although I do enjoy it.” He winked, wicked and arrogant.
“Okay, Professor,” she replied, her voice shaking with a nervous laugh.
He chuckled, rough and warm. “And you may call me Loki. We have been together carnally, and hopefully, we will continue to do so?”
“Yes!” Charlotte blurted, then felt her cheeks heat at her eagerness. “I mean, yeah, I’d really like that.”
Loki’s smile widened. “As would I.” He stood still for a moment, one long finger caressing his bottom lip as he looked at her dreamily. “It would seem that there is a magnetism between the two of us that neither can ignore.”
Charlotte shifted on the couch, still achingly aware of her own arousal. “Yeah, I thought you hated me, but then…”
“Oh, I was quite cross with you, that is certain. But sometimes, Charlotte, these feelings represent something else entirely.”
The rational part of her mind, nearly drowned out by desire but still stubbornly present, reminded her of how much of an asshole he was to her when they first met. “You know, you never really apologized for the way you acted at the coffee shop. I know we called a truce after my paper thing, but to go forward with this, I’d really like an apology.”
Damnit, Charlotte.
Loki set the tea tray down on the coffee table in front of them, and took a seat on the couch next to her with a calculating look. Charlotte felt a momentary flutter of anxiety in her chest. Had she overstepped?
“Right. I wasn’t at my best that day, was I?”
Charlotte shook her head gently, her eyes still locked on his, trying to read him. Loki softened slightly, a hint of something that might have been regret flickering across his features. “I apologize for treating you poorly,” he said, his voice losing some of its usual sharpness. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“Thank you, Loki,” she felt relief at his apology, and a thrill at saying his name. “So what was it?” she asked as he handed her a cup, emboldened by curiosity. “If it wasn’t hatred, what were those feelings?”
His eyes met hers over the rim of his cup, blue and penetrating. “Frustration,” he admitted. “Irritation at being challenged, certainly. But beneath that…” He paused, considering his words with care. “Beneath that was interest, intrigue.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth, not the condescending smirk she had grown familiar with, but something softer, more genuine. “You’ve been a delightful torment, Miss Baker. So bright, so defiant.”
Charlotte felt the heat on her cheeks rise again as she looked down at her cup, watching the milk swirl in the dark tea. This professor– this former god, was telling her she aroused him. It was inconceivable. She wanted to jump his bones this instant, and fought herself to repress that need.
“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” she offered in return. “I get really mad when people are treated poorly…,” she trailed off, taking a sip of her tea.
“And that is a valuable quality,” Loki observed, his voice warming with what sounded like genuine admiration. “You were ready for a fight, all claws and teeth...but underneath that, you’re really soft, delicate. A mere little kitten.”
Her eyes met his again, and she smiled. Normally she’d balk at that descriptor, but coming from him, it felt like a badge of honor. The sun filtering through the partially closed blinds cast alternating bars of light and shadow across Loki’s features, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the depth of his eyes. Charlotte found herself mesmerized by the play of light, by the surreal quality of the moment.
Loki took another sip, before setting his cup back onto the table, shifting his body closer towards hers. “Now you must know that I am not looking for anything serious. But I would be interested in pursuing a casual liaison,”
Charlotte felt a flicker of disappointment ignite in her chest, though she wasn’t sure what she had expected. “Okay, so just hooking up?”
“Yes, though there are considerations,” he continued, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Parameters that would need to be established. We would meet only during my office hours: Monday, Wednesday and Friday. We will not exchange numbers or bring it any further than that.”
Well, he had this planned out, didn’t he? Mr. “Rules Breaker” was suddenly very into rigid expectations. Three times a week didn’t seem like near enough.
“Oh, okay.” she said, unable to completely mask her disappointment. She took a sip of her tea, and reminded herself that something was better than nothing. That having Loki Laufeyson, even on his terms, was more than she had dared hope for just days ago.
“Will that not work for you?,” he asked, a slight furrow appearing between his brows. There was genuine concern in his question, a willingness to hear her objection that surprised her.
“No, yea, that’s fine. But what about, like, I could be your TA?,” she asked, hopeful for more access to him.
Loki smiled, seeing through her flimsy pretext. “I have never required one, so if I were to take one now, it would raise suspicion. Me taking on a beautiful young woman as a TA? A bit obvious, wouldn’t you say?”
A knowing smile pulled at her lips as she thought of the gossip that would flood the halls. “Yea, you’re right. So, we would meet here, during office hours? But what if we get caught?”
Loki’s long arm reached for his tea cup again, his mouth curved into a mischievous smile. “That’s the fun of having an affair, isn’t it?”
He wasn’t wrong. The thrill of her coming to his office for him to fuck her was absolutely what she wanted. Charlotte couldn’t deny the heat that flushed in her pussy at the thought. “Yea…won’t people be suspicious, though? Me showing up here?”
“This hall isn’t used frequently,” Loki replied, gesturing vaguely towards the door and the corridor beyond. “I purposely chose this office for that reason.”
“But we will need to be quiet,” he added, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. “We don’t need the students in the library to hear us”.
The implication sent another bolt of heat straight to her soaked cunt. He was already thinking about the sounds she would make when he took her, and was already planning for their future encounters.
“Yea that makes sense,” she said, trying to subdue her rampant horniness.
A question bubbled up in her mind, one she wasn’t sure she should ask, but her curiosity got the better of her. She knew she needed to do it. “Um, so are you still seeing that woman– Mary?”
A chuckle escaped Loki, low and amused. “No, I am not.That ended after I fucked you in the alley,” he assured her, his tone lighter.
“Okay, good. Because I felt kind of bad about it, it wouldn’t be fair to her, unless she was okay with it…” the thought of sharing him made her stomach lurch.
Loki sipped his tea, watching her over the rim of his cup. “No, not to worry,” he said after swallowing. “I will not be seeing anyone else.” His look sharpened slightly, a hint of possessiveness entering his expression. “Will you be?”
“No,” she replied quickly, honestly. “There’s really no one. And I don’t have time, things are really ramping up here.”
“Of course,” Loki nodded. “And as for your grades in my class, you know that I cannot change them, right? That would be too obvious. I’ve already spent too much attention towards you in front of the other students, it would arouse greater suspicion.”
“As long as you’re not giving me an “F” again, we’re fine. Maybe a “B” once in a while?,” she shot him a playful smirk.
“Hm, we’ll see.”
“Even though I’m obviously your best student,” she continued to tease.
“You are…” Loki agreed, his voice dropping to that register that seemed to bypass her ears and resonate directly with her cunt. “In more ways than one. It turns you on, doesn’t it? Knowing you’re my favorite?”
Charlotte blushed and looked away, unable to maintain eye contact. “Yea…” she admitted softly. He had a way of pulling out confessions she didn’t know she had.
“Charlotte,” Loki said, drawing her eyes back to his face. “Don’t be afraid of your own desires– there’s nothing wrong with them. And I’m looking forward to exploring them with you.” With smooth deliberation, he took her cup from her hand and set it on the table with his own.
“Now, we’ve done enough talking,” he declared. There was a hunger in his stare that made Charlotte’s breath catch in her throat. “I have a class in an hour and before that I’d like to feast on your delicious cunt.”
Charlotte’s body responded instantaneously, a rush of wetness between her legs, a quickening of her pulse that seemed to echo in her ears.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she eagerly reached out to pull him into a kiss.
-> Chapter 11- Sep 5
LYHOM Masterlist
LYHOM Spotify Playlists
Buy me a coffee 💚
Fucking Hell..that was perfect🥵🫶
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
You've just been kidnapped by some lunatic and dragged out into the haunted woods outside of your city, but to your absolute shock, a werewolf comes to your rescue and saves you from a grisly fate. You wake to find that this werewolf is none other than the God of Mischief himself, Loki of Asgard, thought to be killed during a heroic battle years prior. He patches you up and takes you home, so you offer your friendship in return as you noticed his lonely, isolated life away from his family. Loki/Reader dark fantasy werewolf AU.
Chapter 2
Loki comes back to your home for a home-cooked meal. But maybe he's coming in from the cold after all?
Chapter 3
Dating a werewolf god comes with the understanding that there are two important cycles he goes through every month: transformation and heat. Pun fully intended.
Go on, you thirsty whores—treat yo self!
@lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtiggerv2 @peachyjinx @maple-seed @use-your-telescope @cleo-fox @joyful-enchantress
This was absolutely fantastic💚
BTS | LOKI THROUGH TIME
LYHOM: Ch 9: Detours
Summary: Charlotte goes out with some friends and runs into Loki.
Warnings: 18+, smut
Masterlist / Ao3
The pulsating beat of a synth-pop classic reverberated through the club, the lights casting everyone in a wash of neon blues and pinks. Charlotte stood at the bar as she waited for her drink, a rum and coke that seemed to take an eternity to arrive.
As she caught her breath and pulled sweat dampened hair behind her ears, she turned to survey the crowd. The night had been exactly what she needed, a brief escape from the tense annoyance that her life had become. She had really been enjoying dancing and laughing with her friends, living the life she had meant to have when she had moved here.
Charlotte turned back around to pay her bartender, and sipped on her watered down drink with mild disappointment. Her eyes searched for her friends and their roommates, but they had disappeared into the crowd.
“Hello, Miss Baker,” a low voice greeted her from behind. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise. Charlotte froze, her breath hitching in her throat. That voice, unmistakably his, seemed to vibrate straight to her core.
Oh no.
She slowly turned to see Professor Laufeyson, his tall frame a shadow amongst the throngs of club-goers, his black tailored suit making him stand out. His tie was absent tonight, giving a glimpse of pale skin that Charlotte had never seen. Even though she wore heels, he was still taller than her.
“Hi Professor–,” she blurted out, the syllables catching on a rogue ice cube, conspiring with the fizzy soda to induce a spluttering cough. Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes watering as the drink went down the wrong pipe.
She coughed for a moment, clearing her throat and turning from him as she set her drink down with more force than she intended. She was a mess and he had only been standing here for seconds.
Real cool.
“Are you alright, Miss Baker?,” he asked, concern etched in his voice as his hand gently caressed her, his fingertips on the hot skin of her exposed back. She felt herself stiffen under his touch, as she hid her face which was probably bright red right now. His proximity brought the smell of his cologne– rich deep woods and some kind of citrus filled her nostrils. He smelled rich.
“Ah, yes, sir, I'm good. I, uh, I'm just surprised to see you here,” she managed to reply, as she turned to face him, her voice edged with a nervous laugh.
Charlotte watched as his eyes skimmed over her, and she couldn't help feeling exposed. She found herself fighting the urge to pull at the hem of her short dress, suddenly conscious of how different she must look– sweaty and tarted up in her sparkly dress and tall heels. Well, at least she looked hot tonight.
She caught the subtle movement of his tongue against his lip, an action so fleeting yet loaded with intention as his eyes raked over her form. A warmth crept up Charlotte's neck, her skin prickling with the awareness of his proximity. She could feel the sexual tension between them, thick in the air as it clung to the two of them. Oh god how she wanted to grab him and kiss him right now.
“Yes, my date Mary recommended it,” he said, his eyes flickering back to hers.
Charlotte felt her heart sink, his casual mention of a date felt like a splash of cold water in her face. She suddenly felt angry. Jealous.
"Are you here with someone?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Uh, yes– I mean, no– just Ryan and his girlfriend," she stammered, her words tumbling out awkwardly loud as she took another sip of her drink and looked away. She could feel the weight of his gaze still resting upon her, but she couldn’t meet it.
“You look quite different tonight, Miss Baker. Quite stunning, in fact,” her professor complimented, not taking his eyes off of her.
“Thanks, I thought so!,” she shot back, her eyes darting to meet his again with renewed frustration.
Why is he doing this to me?
“It is a pity you are alone, no one to share this evening with…,” he casually commented as he raised his hand to flag down the bartender. Charlotte felt her blood begin to boil again, it was so easy for him to get under her skin.
“I don’t need your pity, sir,” she replied, her voice barbed with the same tone she had used in the coffee shop. He looked into her eyes with calmness, though Charlotte could see something different. Hunger.
“And what is it you do want, Miss Baker?,” he asked, his voice deeper now. His eyes slowly trailed down her chest, then back up to meet her eyes.
I want you.
“I just want…to blow off some steam. It's been tense, you know?,” she continued the double entendre.
“Hm, and is this semester frustrating? Why is that?,” he replied, his tone intense and calculating.
“Actually I think you know why this has been frustrating for me, Professor,” venom again seeping into her voice.
A devious smile spread across his face as he continued to stare down at Charlotte when he received his martini and his date’s drink. Charlotte picked her drink back up, chugging another gulp, hoping to finish and get away from this situation as quickly as possible. She was ready to fuck him right here in front of everyone, and she needed to get away. Fast.
A woman walked over to Loki, statuesque and dressed in a stylish jumpsuit that complimented her hourglass figure perfectly, “I changed my mind, I’d like a cosmo, Loki,” she wrapped her arm around him as she looked at Charlotte expectantly.
A drop in her stomach triggered more tension in Charlotte’s body.
“Mary, this is one of my students, Charlotte Baker. Charlotte, this is Mary.” Seeing this beautiful woman standing in front of her was a slap from the reality of the situation– he already had a girlfriend. He was just toying with Charlotte for fun.
"Hi," Charlotte managed a weak smile, her hand extending automatically for a shake that felt more like an admission of defeat.
"Nice to meet you," Mary said, her voice carrying a melody that matched her flawless appearance. Loki looked between the two women with a calm demeanor as he sipped his martini.
"Likewise," Charlotte muttered awkwardly, her stomach churned with a cocktail of envy and self-consciousness. This was quickly becoming one of the most excruciating nights of her life.
"Are you having fun?" Mary's question was polite but unnecessary. Had she noticed the tension when she arrived?
"So much!," Charlotte lied as she gave Mary a strained grin that she hoped conveyed at least a sliver of sincerity. She thought she caught the briefest flash of amusement flicker across Professor Laufeyson’s face.
“Hey Charlotte!,” a man’s voice called out over the loud bass of a song starting.
Oh God, make it stop.
“Ohh hi…-” she struggled to recall the name of the guy walking up who was Ryan’s roommate.
“Jake!,” he chimed in cheerfully as he sidled up next to her.
“Jake! Hey!,” Charlotte knew this was her exit and she was going to take it. She swore she could feel her professor’s intense stare on her as she turned to face her new friend.
“This is a great place! When you’re done with your drink, do you want to dance?”
“Would love to!,” she quickly glanced at her teacher, hoping Mary didn’t notice. She was just so mad at him. Mad at his behavior in the last couple of weeks. At this situation she found herself in. She couldn’t take it anymore.
Charlotte lifted her drink and chugged the last bit of it in one gulp, desperate to get away from the gorgeous couple.
“Well, have a good night!,” she faked sincerity, avoiding Laufeyson’s eyes as she quickly abandoned her company and pushed through the crowd, pulling Jake by the arm.
Charlotte joined Jake on the dancefloor, away from the bar but still at an angle where she could see her professor. She didn’t know why she was even dancing with this guy– what was his name again? Rage built inside of her all over again. She knew her professor wanted to fuck her. She saw how he looked at her just now. Hips rolling to the beat, she fought the urge to look back at him, just to see if he was jealous.
Jake’s hands began to wander to her hips and she didn’t even care. She closed her eyes and focused on the music, trying to drown out her feelings and anger. Her eyes slipped open and she dared to look towards the bar, towards her professor’s direction– he stood there, talking to Mary, but his eyes glanced in her direction. Good.
The song began to wind down, and Charlotte noticed Jake’s hand was still on her hip, and he looked down at her with a hopeful smile.
“Wow, soo, next one?,” Jake asked as the next song began to fade in, the crowd screaming at the pop classic.
“Oh thanks, but um, I really should get going. Thanks for the dance,” Charlotte blanked on his name again as she gently punched his shoulder playfully like she would a brother.
His face looked confused as she turned around and headed for the exit. This was enough for one night, too much. Her body was thrumming with anger, lust, excitement– she needed to get out of here.
Charlotte's pulse hammered in her ears, a wild rhythm that matched her hastening steps as she darted through the exit door. It swung wide with her forceful push, its hinges releasing a creak before it slammed shut behind her with a thunderous clap. The narrow alley, bathed in the warm glow of a flickering streetlight, welcomed her escape.
Charlotte inhaled deeply, the cool night air filling her lungs like a balm after the stifling atmosphere of the club. She took a few unsteady steps further down the alley, not quite sure what she was going to do next. Should she go back in and act like this was no big deal? Just leave and go home?
After a moment, Charlotte paused and leaned back against the brick wall, anchoring herself as the cold air hit her flushed skin. She felt the build-up in her chest, a pressure that demanded release. All her frustration bubbled to the surface at once, a potent cocktail of anger, embarrassment, and lust. Her thoughts circled relentlessly, picking at the wound of what she'd witnessed inside.
Damnit, why did he have to be here? And how does he have this hold over her? Why does he piss her off so much??
"AAUUGHH!", the scream ripped from her throat, raw and unguarded, shattering the silence that had wrapped around her. The sound bounced off the brick walls of the buildings, a momentary echo of her frustration before dissipating into the night.
Charlotte pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, willing the haunting image of sexy Professor Laufeyson tonight from her mind's eye. "Fucking hell," she muttered, defeat creeping in.
The sudden sound of a door opening jarred her from her thoughts, making her jump. Her eyes darted to the exit, landing on Professor Laufeyson as he stepped out into the alleyway, the heavy door slamming shut behind him with an echo.
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him step fully into the alleyway. The silence stretched between them, and Charlotte became distressingly aware of every detail of the moment: the distant wail of a siren somewhere in the city, the faint scent of his cologne carried on the night breeze, the way her heart pounded so hard she was certain he must hear it.
His gaze held her captive, the blue of his irises just a small ring around his dark pupils. The dim light caught on the sharp line of his jaw, the hollow beneath his cheekbones creating valleys of shadow that made him appear otherworldly. Against the darkness of the alley, his pale skin took on an alabaster quality, as if carved from marble by a sculptor with a preference for beautiful but cruel gods. He belonged in this dark alley, not the bright lights of the classroom. This is where he was truly Loki Laufeyson.
Charlotte felt her stomach clench. What was he doing out here? Had he followed her?
“Are you okay, Charlotte?,” he slowly approached her, hands in his pockets. His expression remained inscrutable, a mask of controlled intensity that revealed nothing of his thoughts.
"Yea, I'm fine," she replied, the shakiness in her voice betraying her lie. Charlotte forced herself to maintain eye contact with him.
A smile, slow and knowing, curved Loki's lips. Not the polite, professional smile he offered in class, but something older, more dangerous. “I was the God of lies, Charlotte– you cannot deceive me. You’re clearly in distress. And why is that?”
“You know why,” she glared at him, realizing she didn’t mean to say those words out loud. Heat rushed to her cheeks, embarrassment mingling with the sexual ache already coursing through her veins.
“Why? What could possibly have you screaming into the night with such frustration?,” his footsteps whispered across the pavement, a predator’s silent approach as he walked towards her, closing the gap between them.
His body gracefully closed in on her, close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from his body in the cool night. He raised his arm, resting it against the wall beside her head as he looked down at her. Charlotte tilted her head back to maintain eye contact, a rush of heat flooding her desperate cunt. She was so wet for him.
Her professor’s other hand rose, gently brushing against Charlotte's flushed cheek, bringing a row of goosebumps to prickle at her skin. "What do you want, Charlotte?," he asked, his voice deeper as he repeated his question from the bar.
This was it, he was making her say it. She was so angry, but so incredibly turned on, feeling her panties begin to moisten under his scrutinizing gaze that had her in a trance.
She shouldn’t do it. She really shouldn’t.
"Say it," he commanded, stepping closer so his powerful body pushed against hers, pinning her between him and the wall while a muscular thigh pushed between her legs, grazing her dripping cunt. It was too much and not enough all at once.
She didn’t care who saw. She didn’t care about anything anymore except him. She needed him now. Every inch of her body hummed with anticipation, with need for his cock.
“I want you to fuck me, Professor Laufeyson,” she admitted in a quiet voice. His jaw clenched, conflict evident in every line of his face for a brief moment. Something shifted in his eyes then– a darkening, a surrender to whatever had been holding him back.
Then in a flash, his lips were on hers, hungry and desperate as his large hands forcefully cupped her jawline. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, and she bent to his will, kissing back back fiercely, their tongues massaging each other with exploration.
His kisses were aggressive, claiming her mouth, tasting her with a fire she had never felt before. Vodka, mint, and something else she couldn’t place invaded her senses as the world around them vanished. She moaned into him as she felt one of his hands move from her face to grope her ass while the other massaged her breast, his body pushed against her so hard she nearly felt out of breath. This wasn’t just lust, this was desperation, a burning need that she could feel through his kisses and rough dragging of his hands over her body.
Charlotte's arms snaked around his neck, her trembling fingers tangling in the dark silk of his hair like she’d wanted to do since they met. Gently pulling his hair as they kissed, her leg instinctively raised around his hip, and she thrust against him. The movement drew a deep groan from him, and she could feel his hard cock pushing against her through his pants, hot and insistent.
A brief chill swept over her as he urgently pulled her dress above her hips, exposing her thighs and backside to the cold autumn night. His large hand moved swiftly to her soaking panties, cupping her sex and gently squeezing. She squealed at the sensation, and gasping for air, broke their kiss.
“This is all for me, isn’t it?,” he growled, his voice lower than she had ever heard it, causing more heat to flush to her core. His eyes remained on hers, his black hair messy from her fingers, a damp curl hanging over his forehead. Her red lipstick, a deep blood red in the dark, smeared across his lips, contrasting his pale skin. He looked amazing.
“Yes…,” she panted, her mind dizzy with all consuming lust, ready to do whatever he wanted.
Long, expert fingers quickly removed her panties, dropping them to her ankles, and she stepped out of them as quickly as she could without tripping.
“Yes, what?” One hand turned her chin towards his, forcing her to continue looking at him. His fiery stare did not relent as his fingers glided softly across her sensitive lips, wet with arousal. She felt another needy wave of heat throughout her body– he was hypnotic and deeply intense, and she couldn’t look away as she shivered under his touch.
“Oh…uhh…yes…sir?,” her heady reply came as he began to gently massage her clit, making her head spin.
“That’s better, Miss Baker,” he grinned devilishly. Oh god he was kinky. She knew it.
He seemingly maintained his composure as she heard the click of his belt buckle, unzip of his fly, and in one fluid motion, her professor lifted her, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs and ass as he pinned her against the brick wall. Charlotte wrapped her legs around his strong hips as her body trembled with anticipation– she felt exposed, vulnerable, and she didn’t care.
Their eyes locked as he positioned his thick tip at her entrance, and she felt grateful to finally feel his swollen dick at her dripping slick like she’d been fantasizing about for months.
Loki’s features grew stern with concentration, his jaw clenched as she watched him fight for control. Time seemed to slow as he entered her, inch by delicious inch. His eyebrows knitting and teeth gritting, she could see the relief wash over him as he slowly pushed his rigid length inside of her, and Charlotte gasped. He was huge, of course.
"Ohh God..." The deep moan erupted from her chest unbidden, and her eyes fluttered closed as she clung to his strong shoulders. The fullness was overwhelming, entwined with a small tinge of pain, intense in a way that made coherent thought impossible. All she could focus on was the sensation of him inside her, stretching her, completing her.
Loki thrust again, gently but deeper this time, drawing another raspy moan from her lips in unison with his own loud groan. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his suit jacket, seeking purchase as pleasure rippled through her.
Another roll of his hips, and he bottomed out inside of her, the sensation drawing a loud, unrestrained groan from deep in his chest. His thick cock was entirely sheathed, impossibly deep inside of her as he pushed himself as far as he could, her wetness coating him.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice husky with concern despite the obvious strain of his restraint as he panted against her ear.
"So... big..." was all she could manage. She clung to him for support, her inner muscles fluttering around him as they adapted. She had never felt so full, it was exquisite.
A small chuckle rumbled from Loki's chest as his hips jerked harder. "You'll adjust," he purred against her ear. "I'll make sure of it."
Her professor’s hips began to move in a steady rhythm– his thrusts were hard, insistent as he took what he wanted from Charlotte, reaching depths she had never felt before, filling her perfectly.
Trailing his nose down her neck as he fucked her against the wall, his breath puffed against her skin, sending chills down her spine. The desperate erotic heat between them heightened her senses as her fingers tightened on his suit.
The clink of his belt rattling joined their illicit moans as they echoed off of the bricks. “This is what you’ve wanted, isn’t it?? To be fucked by your professor?,” he spat as his hips snapped against hers, each movement seemingly pushing him deeper inside of her, where he belonged.
"Yes- yes sir!," she whined feverishly. His polished accent spilling out filthy words drove her mad with desire, she could feel herself gushing over it. He was so raw, so dirty. The heat was building inside as his cock hit her g-spot with a relentless pace, making her feel like she would be split in two. She knew she wasn’t going to last long tonight.
He sucked and licked at her neck while she kept her eyes tightly closed, focusing on the moment. Her back scraped painfully against the rough texture of bricks, but the discomfort paled against the heat of his body, the urgency of his touch– fucking her in the dark alley, filthy and clandestine.
Strong hands dug into the flesh of her ass as Loki held her in place, pistoning into her harshly. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, you needed me to fuck you and have my way with you.”
“Yess…sir,” she half moaned in a cock drunk haze. Charlotte felt owned, claimed in the most primal way, and the realization sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her as she clenched around him.
"You like the risk, don't you?" he asked, his voice rough in her ear. "The chance of being caught with your professor's cock buried inside you. Such a naughty bitch.” He was utterly filthy. The pressure inside her was built by his words, like a spring coiling tighter and tighter, ready to release with explosive force.
“I’m going to come inside this tight little cunt and you’re going to take it all, do you hear me?,” his tone was wild, gravely, as his control unraveled.
“Yes sir! Oh fuck, yes sir!,” she whined, her thighs tensing as she felt the wave coming. She could feel her walls tightening around him, strangling his hard cock as he plunged inside of her.
"Good girl," he praised as he fucked her, urging her towards the precipice. The muscles in her abdomen and thighs tensed with each grind of his hips, her body slick with sweat from the exertion. She could feel his pace faltering, his restraint collapsing as he continued to talk dirty.
"You're going to come for me. Going to come on my cock, right here in this alley, where anyone might walk by and see what a filthy little thing you are."
His words, combined with a particularly well-angled thrust, pushed Charlotte over the edge, her body responding instinctively to his dominance. She was dimly aware of the sounds she was making– high, broken cries that echoed off the walls surrounding them as waves of pleasure crashed through her body. Her inner muscles clenched around him, pulsing with the force of her climax while colors exploded behind her closed eyelids, her body arching into his as ecstasy washed over her in relentless waves. Her body convulsed as her back arched off the wall, her body seeking to take him deeper.
Her wet walls tightening around him seemed to break something in Loki and he groaned loudly– a deep, guttural sound that seemed torn from the very core of him. Bucking into her with sloppy thrusts he became more desperate as he chased his own completion, sending more cascading waves of pleasure through her writhing body. Her body was on fire, reeling in ecstasy as he fucked her like a degenerate beast.
His body tensed and his hands gripped her ass with bruising intensity, fingers digging into her soft flesh as he held her in place for his increasingly frantic movements. With one final, powerful thrust, he came hard inside her, his hoarse growl echoing off of the walls in the alley. He buried himself in her to the root, his cock pulsing as he spilled into her in slow, insistent waves. The sensation was so intense that Charlotte gasped, her own body clenching around him involuntarily, milking every shudder and twitch.
His ragged moans came hot and damp against her shoulder, warming her skin in contrast to the cool night air. The weight of him pressing her against the wall, the continued fullness of him inside her even as he began to soften, the lingering tremors that passed between them, were pure bliss as they came down from their high.
Then his sweaty forehead came to rest against hers, their heated breath mingling in the scant space between them. Charlotte felt the aftershocks of her orgasm rippling through her body, small tremors that made her cling to him. She opened her eyes, feeling a deep need to see him in this state.
His black hair clung to his sweat-dampened forehead, and his eyes, when they flashed open to meet hers, were dark with desire, pupils blown wide. The sight of him so undone sent another rush of heat pooling in her cunt.
As they quietly caught their breath, the night air suddenly pressed in around them, cold and sharp, and the sounds of the city now seemed to get louder. His scent surrounded her, and she committed it to memory. Even if this never happened again, she wanted to savor this moment, to keep it pristine in her mind to replay again and again.
Loki lowered her carefully to the ground, his hands steady despite the tremors she could feel running through his body. Her legs felt wobbly, uncooperative, and she leaned against the wall for support as she felt how sore her thighs were from straining against his hips. He remained close, his body still shielding hers from the outside world, one hand braced against the brick beside her head again.
He leaned down and kissed her again, slowly, deeply. His tongue was gentler now, soothing rather than claiming, and she melted into him. When he pulled back, a small smirk played at his lips– a glimmer of his usual self returning, though his eyes remained soft with a satisfaction that mirrored her own.
Charlotte found herself beaming at him, a giddy relief washing over her. She was in shock that this had actually happened.
Silence settled between them, comfortable yet charged with the weight of what they'd just done. Charlotte pulled her dress back down as she watched Loki run a hand through his disheveled hair, attempting to restore some semblance of the polished man he was.
His eyes never left her face while she tugged at the hem of her dress, smoothing out wrinkles. There was no regret in his eyes, no shame– only a quiet satisfaction that matched the warmth blooming in her chest. They had crossed a line, yet Charlotte couldn't bring herself to care. Not when her body still hummed with pleasure, not when she could still taste him.
A sly grin tilted on his lips and he nodded, “See you on Tuesday, Miss Baker.”
Charlotte nodded, not trusting her voice just yet. She watched as he turned back toward the exit, his stride confident and unhurried as he returned to the club– and presumably to his date. A pang of jealousy flickered through her, quickly replaced by a smug satisfaction.
Then she turned toward the street, stepping out of the alley and back into the regular flow of the city night as she pulled her sweat soaked hair to one side. Her still wobbly steps took her towards the coat check of the club to get her things so she could go home.
That had been, without question, the hottest experience of her life. Thoroughly fucked out and satisfied, for the first time in months, she didn’t feel the need to overanalyze everything, or worry about what was going to come next. For now, she would bask in the afterglow of being fucked by Loki Laufeyson.
-> Chapter 10- Aug 15
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Buy me a coffee 💚
Me while reading what was a veeery naughty and hot as hell chapter👀🥵
This was absolutely brilliant❣️
Loki being like
"Hello Miss Baker!!!"🫠
it's my birthday! and since it's a giving kind of day.... I may have................ A little fic to share ;)
Happy Birthday!! 🥳
Hope you have a wonderful time and a great day!!🫶
