Summary: you get kidnapped by some goons and Loki comes to your rescue [WC 1k] [ao3]
Warnings: mafia au, angst, fluff if you tilt your head to the left and squint hard
Request: @samanddeansannoyingsis Mafia Loki who's sweet wife has no idea he's in the mafia. Shes just a sweet little librarian at the public library and then gets kidnapped one day and they ask about her husband.
The library always smelled like paper and quiet. It clung to you the way your husband’s sweaters did when you stole them from his side of the closet. It was safe here. Predictable. Rows of stories that always ended the same way no matter how many times you opened them.
That’s why you didn’t understand.
Didn’t understand why your wrists were tied to a chair. Didn’t understand why the room smelled like metal and something sharp and wrong. Didn’t understand why the men in front of you kept asking about Loki.
Your Loki. Your husband who kissed your forehead every morning, who brought you tea when your migraines got bad, who listened to you ramble about books like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“C’mon,” one of them sneered, crouching in front of you. “You really expect us to believe you don’t know what he does?”
Your throat felt tight, frantically looking around the room. You had no idea where he had taken you. Or who this man was. Or what he was talking about. “He—he works in business.”
The room went quiet for a second.
Then laughter. Harsh. Mocking. “Business,” another echoed. “Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”
You shook your head, panic starting to claw its way up your chest. “I don’t understand what you want from me. I told you—I don’t know anything.”
The first man sighed like you were inconveniencing him. “Your husband runs half this city. Weapons, money, people. Nothing moves without his say-so. And you're telling us you have no idea how diabolical he is?”
Your heart stuttered. “No,” you whispered, because that didn’t make sense. It couldn’t. “No, you’re wrong. Loki wouldn’t—he’s—he’s—”
Kind. Gentle. Careful with you like you were something fragile.
The man grabbed your chin suddenly, forcing you to look at him. “He’s a liar. And you’re either stupid… or you’re lying for him.”
Tears blurred your vision. “I’m not lying…” Your voice cracked, small and helpless in the cold room. “I swear, I don’t know anything.”
There was a beat.
Then a sound echoing in the ditance. A thud. Another. Raised voices outside. Shouting. Something breaking.
The men froze. You felt it before you understood it—the shift in the air. Like a storm rolling in. Heavy. Inevitable.
One of them cursed under his breath. “Shit—”
The door burst open. And everything stopped. Because Loki stood there. Not your Loki. Not the man who brushed your hair out of your face while you read in bed. This Loki was dressed in black, coat immaculate, eyes cold and sharp like cut glass. There was blood on his knuckles—fresh blood—and men behind him who looked just as dangerous.
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Loki’s gaze found you. And everything—everything—in his expression shattered. “Darling.” His voice dropped, softer than you’d ever heard it, like the word itself might break you further.
Your breath hitched. “Loki…?”
He crossed the room in seconds. The men didn’t even try to stop him. Didn’t dare. He dropped to his knees in front of you, hands suddenly so careful as they hovered over your face, your shoulders, like he was afraid to touch you too roughly. “Are you hurt?” he murmured, frantic now. “Did they—did they touch you—?”
“I…” Your voice trembled. “They said—”
You looked at him—really looked. At the blood. At the men behind him. At the way everyone else in the room refused to meet his eyes. “…they said you’re… in the mafia.”
Silence. It stretched. Heavy.
Loki closed his eyes briefly, like he’d been dreading this exact moment for a very long time. When he opened them again, the softness was still there—but underneath it was something darker. Something powerful. Something real. “Yes,” he said quietly.
The word felt like it split the world in two.
You flinched. Not away from him—never that—but from the truth itself. “…you lied to me.” It wasn’t angry. That made it worse.
Loki’s face crumpled just slightly, guilt flickering through all that control. “I protected you.”
“By lying?”
“By keeping you safe,” he corrected, sharper now—but the edge vanished the second your eyes filled again. “By making sure you never had to see this part of me.”
Your lips trembled. “But it’s still you.”
That hit him. You could see it. He swallowed, something raw breaking through his composure. “Yes.”
Your gaze dropped to his hands—the same hands that held yours so gently—now stained with blood. “…did you hurt them?” you whispered.
Behind him, one of the men shifted nervously.
Loki didn’t look away from you. “Yes.”
The honesty was terrifying.
And yet still, he reached for you slowly, like approaching a frightened animal. “But never you. Never anything that belongs to you. Never anything that breathes near you.” His voice dropped, something dark curling through it now. “They took you.” The room seemed to shrink around those words. “And for that,” Loki continued softly, “they don’t get to keep breathing.”
Your heart pounded. You should’ve been scared. You were scared. But not of him. Never of him. Your voice came out small. “…you still love me?”
Something almost offended flashed across his face. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours despite the blood, despite everything. “You are the only thing in this wretched world I have ever loved,” he whispered.
Your breath caught.
“And I would burn every empire I’ve built to ash before I let harm come to you again.”
Your eyes closed, tears slipping free. “…okay.”
It was quiet. Fragile. But it was enough. Loki exhaled like he’d been holding his breath since the moment you were taken. Carefully, gently, he untied your wrists—his fingers trembling just slightly as he checked for marks. “I’m taking you home,” he murmured.
Home.
The word felt different now.
He stood, then hesitated… before shrugging off his coat and draping it around your shoulders, shielding you from the room, from the men, from himself. From what he was.
But as he helped you up, your hand clutched his sleeve.
He paused. “…you’re still my Loki,” you said softly.
And for the first time since he walked in, the monster disappeared. Just for you.
scrolled through your blog and im in love with your writing oh my goodnessss
could i make a head canon request for loki dating a somewhat shy/reserved reader?
Loki x Shy!Reader
A/N: first of all: Thank you so much💕 i hope this is what you've been looking for, enjoy reading 🥰
Marvel Masterlist Masterlist
-Loki notices your shyness the way others notice sunlight—by how it filters through the air, soft but impossible to ignore. He doesn’t mistake it for weakness; to him, it’s restraint, control, a kind of quiet magic. “You don’t speak unless you have something worth saying,” he muses once. “How rare"
-he doesn’t fill your silences. He lets them breathe. It’s unnerving at first—this god, capable of commanding rooms, content to simply sit beside you while you read, the air thick with unspoken words. He likes that you don’t rush to perform for him; he’s tired of masks
-when you do speak, he listens. Truly listens. Every small comment, every shy opinion about something as trivial as Midgardian coffee or as deep as loneliness. He stores them like treasures. Weeks later, he’ll reference something you barely remember saying, and you’ll realize: he remembers everything
-Loki is patient—but only with you. He teases others mercilessly, cuts through conversation like a knife, but with you, his tone softens. “Take your time, darling,” he says when words falter. “I’ve waited centuries for less interesting things”
-when you’re too quiet, he doesn’t push. He sits nearby, conjuring small illusions to keep the air light—a tiny dragon curling on your knee, a constellation blooming in his palm. You always smile at the magic before you even realize you’re doing it
-he watches how you notice small details — a crack in a wall, the curve of a teacup handle. He finds it mesmerizing, that your mind catalogues what others overlook. Sometimes, he conjures tiny illusions just for you to discover
-Loki loves that you blush easily. He doesn’t say it aloud, but you can tell by the way he deliberately leans in too close, murmuring something in your ear just to see the heat rise in your cheeks. It’s a game he never grows tired of losing
-he notices the way your hands fidget when you’re nervous — twisting rings, brushing hair behind your ear. He doesn’t comment outright, but he reaches for your hand subtly, guiding it into his own. The warmth makes you stiffen, and he smirks, not saying a word
-you once apologized for being shy. Loki’s reaction was instant—his expression sharp, almost offended. “Never apologize for what makes you different,” he said. “Mortals waste too much time trying to be loud enough to be heard. You’re quiet, yet I listen anyway. That’s power"
-when you’re uncomfortable, he senses it before you even say a word. The shadows bend toward him when your pulse quickens; he always notices. One hand to your wrist, a small squeeze, a silent promise: you’re safe
-Loki isn’t used to gentleness. Yours unravels him. When you reach for his hand first, his breath catches like it’s the first time anyone’s ever done it without wanting something in return
-he delights in seeing you flustered—but never humiliated. His teasing is a craft, not cruelty. A brush of magic here, a whispered word there, just enough to make your eyes widen and your lips press into that tiny, shy smile he secretly lives for
-Loki likes to hold you close when you’re startled or anxious. Not because you need saving, but because he craves the trust it takes for you to lean into him
-when you speak softly, he leans in, fascinated by the way your voice seems almost forbidden, as if it needs to be coaxed out. “Do you know the effect you have?” he asks, and you shake your head. “Of course not,” he mutters, smiling against your hair
-he adores your quiet moments of humor — the little smiles, the soft snorts, the way you glance at something ridiculous and can’t help but grin. He catalogues them all silently, storing them for days when he’s far from you
-Loki guards your comfort like treasure. Anyone who mistakes your softness for fragility earns a look so cold it could freeze sunlight. He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to
-he loves telling you stories. Old ones, about Asgard and the stars. Sometimes, he embellishes just to make you laugh. Other times, he tells them exactly as they happened—grief and all—and when you touch his hand, he falls silent, undone by how steady your kindness is
-Loki isn’t gentle by nature. But with you, he learns to be. He speaks slower, moves softer, checks for your consent with every brush of his hand. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs once. It never is
-he sometimes mirrors your quietness. Sitting in the same room, both of you reading or staring out a window. He calls it “a silent alliance,” but you realize it’s his way of grounding himself, too
-Loki protects your space in subtle ways. If someone tries to dominate a conversation with you, he leans in, voice silky and cutting: “Ah, forgive me, but I believe she was speaking.” You peek at him, eyes wide, barely suppressing a smile
-to the rest of the world, Loki is sharp edges and silver tongues. But with you, he’s quiet thunder. You don’t tame him—you simply give his chaos somewhere to rest. And in return, he gives you something rarer than power: his peace
-he knows big gestures overwhelm you, so he shows affection in subtler ways: a cloak draped over your shoulders before you realize you’re cold, a cup of tea appearing beside you while you’re reading, the soft echo of magic humming low in the room so you never feel alone
-he knows touch can be grounding for you. So he learns the balance—when to reach for your hand, when to simply stay near. His palm is warm, steady, and he never lets go before you do
-when you do laugh—really laugh—it makes him pause. He’d raze worlds to hear that sound again. So he keeps a mental list of what amuses you: his sarcasm, his overly dramatic retellings, the way he mocks Thor’s heroic poses
-Loki notices everything about your shyness — the way your eyes flick away when someone stares too long, the small pauses before you speak. He doesn’t tease you for it. Instead, he builds silence around you like a shield. “Let them fill the air with noise,” he murmurs. “We’ll keep the peace for ourselves"
-you start to discover that he has a side he only shows in private — slow, careful touches, whispered reassurances, small gestures that say “I see you, entirely"
-Loki sometimes watches you sleep, quietly tracing the line of your jaw or the curve of your hands. He says nothing, knowing that some adoration doesn’t need to be spoken aloud
-Loki sometimes whispers your name like a spell in the dark, just to hear it on his lips. Not for anyone else, just for him. It’s his way of reminding himself you’re real, that you’re his, quiet and steady, a counterpoint to his chaos
-when you’re too nervous to speak up in front of others, Loki speaks for you — never condescendingly, but with such smooth precision that no one even realizes what he’s done. Later, you thank him. He only says, “you don’t owe me gratitude for protecting what’s mine”
-Loki’s love is loud, yours is quiet — and somehow, it fits. He fills rooms with words; you fill them with calm. He once told you, “you’re the stillness between my storms.” You thought he was being dramatic, but the next day he repeated it like he was reminding himself
-you get overwhelmed easily when people talk over each other. Loki notices. He’ll slip his hand into yours under the table, a grounding gesture only you understand. “Focus on me,” he whispers, voice just for you. And you do. Every time
-you never expected Loki to be so gentle. He moves with such precision, as if every touch might shatter you. When you tell him you won’t break, he smiles faintly. “No,” he says, “but the world has not learned to be as careful with you as I have"
-he teases you sometimes — softly, affectionately — when you hide behind him during confrontations. “You’re lucky I adore cowardice when it’s this endearing,” he says with a grin. But the moment someone else makes you uncomfortable, his entire demeanor shifts. The god of mischief becomes the god of menace
-Loki’s arrogance used to scare you a little. Now, you recognize it as armor. When he boasts, you just hum in response, unbothered. “You’re meant to say I’m magnificent,” he prompts. You glance up at him, amused. “You already know that.” It’s your quiet defiance that disarms him
-Loki loves to show you off — not in loud ways, but subtle ones. The way his hand rests at your back in crowded rooms. The way his tone softens only when he speaks to you. Everyone notices; you pretend not to
-when you’re unsure of yourself, Loki looks at you like you’ve just said something absurd. “You’re doubting yourself again,” he says. “Fascinating. I didn’t think mortals could be so foolish twice in one lifetime.” It’s biting — but his thumb is tracing circles on your wrist as he says it
-Loki never rushes you. When you hesitate to speak, he waits — patient, uncharacteristically so. The others interrupt or move on, but Loki’s eyes stay fixed on you until you finish. When you ask him why he does that, he says, “because your words deserve to be heard, not hurried"
-the first time you raise your voice — really raise it — Loki looks stunned. Then, slowly, that wicked smile spreads across his face. “Ah,” he says softly. “There’s fire beneath all that quiet. I knew it.” He doesn’t argue back. He looks almost proud
-you’re hesitant to touch him sometimes — not out of fear, but reverence. Loki notices that too. “You can touch me, you know,” he teases. “I don’t bite.” Then, lower, almost as an afterthought: “Not without consent”
-when you get shy during a compliment, Loki leans into it, loving the way you fidget. “You blush so prettily,” he says once, just to see it happen again. You groan, hiding your face. “You’re cruel.” “Yes,” he agrees. “And you love it”
-Loki introduces you to things slowly — Asgardian customs, fragments of his magic, the stars of realms you can’t pronounce. “You don’t need to speak,” he says when you’re too shy to respond. “Just listen. You do that better than most gods I’ve met”
-you get stage fright before public things — dinners, events, anything that demands attention. Loki handles it with grace. He distracts you with ridiculous conversation until you forget to be nervous. Then, when you realize what he’s done, he smirks. “You’re welcome”
-he’s possessive in quiet ways — a hand on your waist, a look that silences unwanted attention. You’ve learned not to question it. “Old habits,” he admits once. “When you’ve been betrayed enough, you start guarding what you love too tightly”
-Loki rarely lets people see him soft. But you catch it in flashes — the way he adjusts your scarf before you leave, or the faint hum of magic that follows you when you walk alone. You once teased him for being overprotective. “No,” he said softly. “Just unwilling to lose you”
-you tell him once that you envy his confidence. He laughs — really laughs — and it’s not cruel. “Confidence,” he says, “is just fear in a better outfit.” You think about that for days
-Loki loves that you aren’t like him. That you don’t demand attention, or play to an audience. “You undo me,” he admits one night, lying beside you in the dark. “You do nothing — and yet, somehow, I am seen"
-you’re shy, but your honesty cuts through his illusions like nothing else. Once, he’s mid-rant about how no one could ever understand him, and you simply say, “I do.” He stops mid-breath, eyes flicking to you like you’ve said a forbidden truth
-he adores how you listen. Really listen. It unnerves him sometimes — that someone could care without condition. So he talks too much, spinning stories of realms and wars, just to see if you’ll stay. You always do
-there’s a quiet pride in him when people notice your presence. You don’t need to command attention — you simply exist, and the room bends around your gentleness. Loki notices it most. “You’ve bewitched me,” he says once. You laugh. “You’re one to talk”
-Loki never forces you into his chaos. When you shy away from confrontation, he handles it with that smooth, cutting charm of his. Later, he says, “you’d have turned them to stone with one look, had you wanted to.” You roll your eyes, but he means it
-sometimes he catches you staring at him — not out of awe, but curiosity. “Careful,” he says, amused. “Staring at a god too long can be dangerous.” You just shrug. “You’re the one who won’t stop glowing.” He tries not to smile. He fails
-Loki doesn’t often apologize outright. But after arguments — rare, intense, full of miscommunication — he’ll find small ways to mend things. A cup of tea left by your side. A whispered “I went too far” half-swallowed by the dark. You always forgive him — and he never quite forgives himself
-when you’re nervous, your hands shake. Loki notices every time. He’ll steady them, pretending it’s casual, fingers brushing yours. “Even gods tremble,” he tells you once, voice low. “They just do it when no one’s watching”
-he secretly loves when you wear his clothes — oversized and soft, sleeves swallowing your hands. He never says it aloud, but he stares too long. The smirk gives him away. “They look better on you,” he mutters. “Everything does"
-when you can’t find words for how you feel, Loki fills the silence for you — not with answers, but understanding. “You don’t have to speak,” he says quietly. “I already know.” And somehow, he does
-Loki shows affection through exaggeration. “Without you,” he declares one morning, “Midgard would crumble.” You laugh, calling him dramatic. “Dramatic?” he says, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know that was an understatement”
-there are moments when his sharp tongue slips, when fear makes him cruel. You go quiet then — not out of submission, but disappointment. That’s what gets to him. Later, he’ll come to you, voice small. “You’re far too kind to me.” You answer, “that’s not possible"
-Loki doesn’t always understand kindness. When you do small things — straighten his collar, touch his hair, say “be safe” before he leaves — he looks at you like you’ve handed him something priceless. “You treat me as if I’m… good,” he says once, uncertain. “You are,” you reply
-you never thought someone as sharp as Loki could be soft. But he is, when it’s just you. He’ll trace lazy circles on your skin, whispering things he’d never admit in daylight — regrets, dreams, promises that sound almost mortal
-sometimes he gets lost in thought, caught between the god he was and the man he’s becoming. You don’t pull him out — you just sit beside him, quiet and steady, until he returns. “You always wait for me,” he says once. “You always come back,” you answer
-he jokes that your shyness is his favorite form of flattery. “You go silent every time I walk into a room,” he teases. You respond, “maybe I’m just planning your downfall.” He laughs, the sound like thunder made gentle. “I’d let you”
-loving Loki isn’t about taming the chaos — it’s about being the calm he chooses to come back to. And for all his silver words and ancient power, his voice softens most when he says your name. It’s not worship, not magic — just devotion, quiet and human and real
-loving Loki as a shy, reserved soul is like standing in a quiet room while a storm rages outside. You flinch at every sound, unsure of your place, but he moves beside you like a shadow that comforts instead of scares. He notices the little pauses, the nervous smiles, the way you shrink slightly, and instead of mocking, he cherishes them. His teasing is careful, his touch deliberate, his words a mix of mischief and reassurance. With him, your shyness isn’t a flaw — it’s a language he learns, a rhythm he matches, a world he quietly protects. Loving him means being seen in your quietest moments, and feeling safe in the storm
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Thank you for stumbling onto my Blog, enjoy reading 💫
Loki Laufeyson/Odinson x Reader || 10k Words || You've been training and waiting many years to be the perfect bride. Obedient, caring, non-revolting. The day finally comes when you are hand-picked for a husband. Once that day arrived, you never expected to be selected as a childhood friend of yours, the friend who would grow up to be the king of Asgard.
A/N: To the poor anon who requested the President Loki fanfiction, I PROMISEEE you I'm working on it, I'm reposting this story from my AO3 in the meantime, I apologize again, and this goes for my other wonderful requestees!! Please enjoy this one, as this was one of my first fics I've written after 3-ish years!!! This is also a DIRECT rip from my AO3 page (CoralChutes) so there may be a bunch of spelling errors!!
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, minor angst, mutual pining, enemies to lovers, arranged/forced marriage, slow burn, hate sex (?) but not for long, "You cum first," taunting and teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, sloppy makeouts, hair pulling, edging, hand/blow jobs, deep throating, nipple play, you're playing hard to get somewhat, doggy style, riding, choking, creampie, squirting, slight breeding kink. If I miss any, let me know!!
The two of you sat at an elegant table with countless choices of food scattered amongst the fine fabric of the tablecloth that had a beautiful gold trim with a fancy white pattern as the base color.
Loki’s hand rested beside his plate, which only had small crumbs remaining. His finger taps in frustration against the table, looking straight across from him to you as you slowly eat your food, still trying to process the events from today.
It was all so sudden. You're now married to the King of Asgard after being selected, a maiden who was trained to be an excellent wife, not knowing you would get selected for the God of Mischief. Not by a long shot.
The day you received the news was like a fever dream, you were dazed from shock, your body fighting between fainting or having a heart attack out of anxiety and panic. Your closest friends, those who were trained with you were quick to comfort you, some saying to be happy to be married into wealth, others saying to be cautious of Loki.
Despite being a childhood friend, the king was celebrated yet frightened many with his mischievous looks and actions, the women you trained with were quick to warn you of said events. You have known Loki for years, yet it has been years since you two last connected. To connect in an instant as such was a genuine shock to your mind, wondering if the king had felt the same way.
You were somewhat excited, being able to be in such a high power, having the authority to help your soon-to-be subjects, yet you were still so concerned over the idea that Loki didn’t truly want this, considering he was not the one who chose you.
Despite your nerves nearly jumping out of your skin, you couldn’t help but feel so attracted to the god, looking so ravishing in his wedding attire. He was wearing a tailcoat tuxedo that reached down to the middle of his calves; the ends of the tuxedo had a beautiful embroidery with a bright gold color.
Loki was wearing a green button-up beneath the tuxedo, a luxurious gold chain that drooped over his chest, and a dark, small emerald weighing down the chain just a bit. His slacks showed the curves of his hips and legs, displaying how thin yet muscular they seemed.
The way he would show you such gentle care in front of the guests who have traveled far and wide to your ceremony, his fingertips barely grazing your shoulder as the two of you danced, the tender kiss you shared- it all felt like bliss to you. But as the festivities carried on, you noticed the glances he would give you behind the backs of the many who watched you all.
He seemed irritated, his eye twitching occasionally, even rolling as the corner of his mouth hitched just enough to show his canine and gum. His nose scrunched slightly, yet all of the wrinkles were quick to fade once guests came to greet you both, his seeming disgust turning into a cheeky grin as he shook their hand.
Did you upset him? Was he not satisfied with the quality of the reception or the guests? Many questions continued to swirl in your mind as you two sat in silence. You wished to have talked to him before the events of the night, yet you were forced to be separated until the vows, practically only speaking to each other if needed. As your brain continued to scramble for any words, Loki decided to break the ice himself.
“Allow me to clarify something for your small, feeble mind.” He spoke sternly, “This marriage is nothing more than a political facade, an ordeal that we have to endure for the sake of our Kingdom. I hold no affection for you, nor will I ever. I will not attempt any unnecessary acts of love in public unless the people wish to see, but I expect you to do the same.”
His words were so harsh and sudden, like a doll being pricked at the heart with needles. The words from the man harshly weighing on your stress that followed after the events from today, the constant greetings, the so-called “affection” you two were showing off for the world just crumbling to bits in a matter of seconds.
You knew better than to snap at a god. You’ve learned from some of the best-kept maidens of the kingdom, teaching you to keep your stance, to clean properly, and to nurse, bathe, and so much more. In the heat of your thoughts, with overwhelming emotion overflowing mentally, you forgot about any “decency” a woman should have in marriage.
“My hopes were already low when you would scoff at me behind the backs of our guests.” You said plainly, not an ounce of attitude being shown but to Loki, it was a clear sign of your annoyance.
“Oh my, how my actions must’ve wounded your spirit. Do you expect me to swoon over anything you had to say at the ceremony?” He spoke, cackling lowly at the thought.
“I've been taught to hold my tongue if I were to get married, I'm afraid I must for you, I suppose." You shrugged, using your utensil to pry at your food slightly. You tried to shake the feeling of his eyes staring you down, looking at your figure without a change in his demeanor.
“I could've cared less if you would’ve responded to every word I spoke at the gathering, but even an ounce would be better for me, for our arrangement. To have communication whether it’s in public or behind these walls is important, even if you don’t believe so.”
Loki leans forward in his chair, intrigued by your words. He let his head rest in his palm while he listened.
“You've been taught to hold your tongue, have you? How obedient... truly amusing." Loki mocked. "It’s a shame you didn't learn to sharpen your mind but perhaps that would be too much for you.”
He wanted to twist the dagger he had in your heart even more, continuing to speak harshly of you. “I need you to draw my attention, my dear. Not beg for it now. Not to mention you haven’t done anything too fascinating to the eye.”
"My mind is quite sharpened unlike yours.”
“Doubt it. As for I am a literal god, dear.”
“Doesn’t make you smart. Not to mention how quick you are to assume that I’m not appealing. You find comfort by dripping insults like a candle rather than getting to talk things out like a proper king.”
“My mockery is a kindness, my dear. You should be treating it as if it was the greatest honor bestowed upon you.”
Your fingers wrapped around your glass with frustration, taking a sip before continuing.
“If you truly didn’t find any interest in me you wouldn’t say a word. My years of efforts seemed to have worked in another way rather than being a loving wife to a loving husband.”
Loki grinned. "Your attempts to grab my attention? Pathetic at best, honestly.”
"Yet you still boast on, Lord Loki? I have a position of authority as you do, and if you believe I'm still beneath you, I'm far from it." You spoke, punctuating your words by standing and pushing the glamorous golden chair into the table.
Loki watched as you rose and pushed in your seat, your defiance irritating him as he did to you. “Ahh, the newfound queen is attempting to play royal.” He tutted, wagging his finger.
“Nobody said that you were beneath me, but your newfound authority has not impressed me nor ever will.”
He leaned back in his seat for a moment as he took in the sight of you. You were wearing such a large dress that truly made you stand out from any other guest at the reception.
The base of your dress was pitch black and you had many layers of fabric that circled your waist. These hoops were a lot lighter in color, a small variety of uneven cut lengths of an emerald tone drooped down your body like a veil, trailing down to the small train on the ground. The fabric has the same golden embroidery that Loki does, wrapping around the edges or ends of the dress.
Your shoulders were exposed along with your collarbone and cleavage, a large, heavy emerald pendant with a gold chain resting above it and almost snuggly sitting between your breasts. You and Loki both had matching wedding rings, his just a golden band with your initials carved into the inner area while yours had another green gem, Loki’s initials carved in as his does.
You shrug before making your way to Loki’s end of the long table, him sitting there as if the conversation hasn’t just occurred which left you just a bit more irritated than before. You lower your head just enough for your lips to be close to his ear, your hand resting on the armrest of the chair. “You’re a fool to try and reduce me, Loki of Asgard. You’re an utter fool.”
You then took your leave, the long and airy layers of your dress flowing and following with you. The duties of today made you tired, not to mention Loki’s bickering, so you wanted to go back to your quarters and rest. Unfortunately, the two of you had to share a room so as not to create unwanted suspicion between the maids and butlers of the home.
You opened the large door and closed it without attitude, now wandering the long halls as the click of your black heels echoed constantly until you found two maids interacting while dusting a few portraits that hung on the walls. You had requested their help to get out of your royal garb and into something comfortable, to which they happily agreed.
The two maids led you to your quarters and began to gently undo the layers, getting each ring that settled around your waist and lifting it carefully above your head. As they continue to carefully remove and store your current clothing, Loki is taking his time to reach your shared chambers, knowing that you will be there.
Once you had left, his face had turned into a displeased frown fueled by his irritation and a sprinkle of anger. He couldn’t believe how you pushed away every word he had to say, truly raising his interest slightly. He muttered words under his breath as he slid out of his chair before heading down the same path you did.
You soon were out of all of your clothing, changed out of the large dress, and now into a new set of black lacy lingerie paired with a tulle robe. The feathered ends circled your wrists, neck, and ankles in a pitch-black color. The sheer fabric was a green color to match your dress, making your eyes roll at the thought. Although you were getting sick of being placed in the same color palette, you couldn’t help but admire the view of every outfit you wore.
You thanked the ladies assisting you, wishing them goodnight as they did to you while they stored the garments in your large closet and left you in the room. You took hold of the large sheet that spanned over the bed, covering your body up to your neck.
The sheets were so soft and cozy over your skin. You finally felt the emotions from today slowly exert from your mind just before the door opened, a light cackle filling the silence.
“Did I bother you so intensely that you had to rely on the maids of the palace?” He grinned, “Pathetic, really.”
You scoffed, turning your body from facing the ceiling to the large window that faced the city below, the glass taking up the entire wall with long and large curtains on both sides.
“I’ve been on my feet this whole damn day like you, give me a break before starting to belittle me at least.”
“Oh, my lady is so dearly tired. Well, you aren’t the only one who’s had a difficult day.” Loki’s hand movements emphasized his feelings, his fingers contracting and expanding with each sentence. “I’ve had to endure this tedious ordeal of a marriage, stuck with someone as insufferable as you.” He continued to walk over to the bed, sitting down in the corner.
“If you’ve been dealing with heaps of issues like me, why don’t you go and rest then?” You spat back, fully covering your head with the blanket.
“Now you want to act like a child?” He spoke, his irritation now rattling within his mind. “Hiding yourself from me will do you nothing just as sleep won’t do me any good.”
“I’d rather keep pulling this blanket over myself rather than have a broken record in my ear. Just let it go.”
Loki leaned further while still sitting on the corner of the bed. “How about letting go of that ridiculous blanket and talking properly?” He then grabs the end of the blanket closest to your face and yanks it back, revealing your lingerie outfit from your shoulders down to your waist.
You immediately grew flustered but were too angry to even display an ounce of your true feelings. “By the gods, just give it up, Loki!” You now shouted, grabbing and yanking the blanket out of his hands. You were able to drag it with ease due to the slight shock that had hit him from the view.
Although both of your emotions were boiling over, he couldn’t help but appreciate the curves the outfit displayed, your skin tinted green by the coat and your chest rising and lowering with shaky, anger-filled breaths.
“I’m not giving up to someone as lowly as you. Not. A. Chance.” He punctuated his words by growing even closer to you, his body caging and towering over you as he leaned forward, the fabric of the sheets dipping with his body on the bed.
“You’ve gotten under my skin this entire day and you expect me to just let go?”
“Yeah, hilarious really!” You shouted angrily, moving your body away from him until your back hit the headboard. “Genuinely so hilarious the King of Asgard is going to such an extent to mock a woman he hardly knows still.” He continued to grow closer and you placed your hands on his shoulders in response, gripping them while trying to push him away in which you were failing to do so.
“Is this amusing to you? Trying to get out of something you started, getting a rise out of me? Successfully getting a rise out of me?”
“Looks like I did receive an ounce of interest from you if you’re so hot and bothered.” You sneer with a grin, “Just say you want to fuck your lady out of anger. That’s pretty common for husbands, is it not? I had to learn how to please them after all.”
Loki’s eyes narrowed, his anger flaring once more. “Would you like me to admit that?” He asked exhaustedly, “To admit that there’s even a pinch of desire that rests within me for you? A pinch that finds you fascinating, maybe even irresistible?” You then notice his eyes running over your body again, catching the fact that he nearly raised a hand to rest on your body.
“To hear that from you is a shock.” You scoffed, “You probably don’t even mean those words. Just trying to swoon me to produce an heir, then to discard of me immediately...” Your eyes darted from Loki, looking out the large window beside the bed. The city glimmered below, still bustling with celebration from the wedding hours ago.
“I’m not that harsh of a person, my dear.” His voice was low. “I’m not a monster that would use you in such a way. I wouldn’t discard you.” He then took his hand and let his index and thumb pinch your chin gently, forcing your attention back to him.
Your eyes twitched in reaction to Loki’s sudden gentleness. Although he kept his bratty demeanor, you could recognize that his feelings were strangely sincere. Your lip curled, trying to fight back any feelings that were trying to spill from you, but your face didn’t show a single sign of emotion. The two of you remained silent in your positions, your grip on his shoulders lessening gently while Loki felt your resistance slowly melting away.
He still kept his hand on your chin, locking your gaze with his gently. Watching your expression grow just a bit softer made him grow at ease. You were finally shedding off the defensive barrier you had due to his harsh words from earlier, the pang of regret hitting Loki hard. He released his hand from your chin and moved it to your cheek, his slender fingers cupping your skin softly.
The gentleness was strange to you, making you want to retract from it, but you couldn’t help but give in. Your hands moved away from his shoulders to cover your eyes, a shaky exhale leaving your lips before Loki used a hand to pull one of yours away.
“Don’t hide from me, let me see you.” He said with an ounce of concern, moving the other hand away. “I want you to look at me.”
“You’ve already won your little shouting war with me and you’re still here trying to comfort me at my lowest… I don’t understand.” You hissed through your teeth while you adjusted your position so Loki wasn’t above her anymore, both of you sitting up. “Your pity towards me is so infuriating…”
“Pity?” Loki repeated, a small hint of sarcasm in his tone while he allowed you to sit up. “You truly believe this is pity? No, no my dear, this has nothing to do with that. It’s something else that’s completely different.” Loki then let his hand rest on your thigh, his touch practically melting through the thin fabric of the gown. “Can you not think of any other reason why I followed you?”
“Why possibly?” You snorted at Loki’s change in demeanor. Although you were a bit anxious about how he would’ve responded, you could still tell his pride was still sky high but he wasn’t letting it have full control over his actions and words.
The small giggle made his jaw clench, even if he knew you were trying to overpower his irritating attitude, it was working without a doubt.
“Desire. The purest and rawest.” He said shortly, his large, dark eyes piercing straight through your soul while his hand remained on your thigh, the other going up to your cheek.
A chill immediately shot through your spine, eyes widening slightly to his confession. Yet without any emotion in your expression, after a few quiet moments you spoke, “…Are you just going to let your desire bubble?”
Your words acted as a switch within Loki’s mind, his hand moving to the underside of your thigh to caress your skin while he leaned into your ear. “Oh, my dear, I thought I would have to let it boil for a lifetime.” He was quick to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, the hand on your cheek moving away to grip your waist, his touch desperate and possessive as he thrived from your lips. You closed your eyes quickly as your faces clashed, bringing up a hand to grip his dark locks while you forced your tongue into his mouth, enticing a groan out of Loki. Your other arm wrapped around his neck and shoulder, pulling him even closer to you so your back was fully on the bedsheets.
The kiss was fueled by desire, resentment, anger, lust, and heaps of other emotions that drove you two into animalistic urges, both of your touch desperate and pleading.
The kiss felt like it had only lasted a few mere seconds when Loki pulled away from you to give the same attention to your neck, littering your skin with bites and kisses as he ventured lower., removing the measly coat off of your body without wasting any time to give your neck attention.
“You’re driving me mad.” He spoke huskily.
“I can tell, Loki.” You nod, whimpers now spilling from you as he bites at your collarbone and around your chest.
He hummed in response to your whimpers, further fueling his desire as he lowered, ignoring your heaving chest and moving straight down to your thighs. His hand snaked up both of your thighs, his thumbs sinking below the waistband of your panties and pulling at them teasingly, watching your thighs squeeze together in response.
“How lewd… You must’ve been so eager for me at the gathering. Marrying someone you once knew before by selection, getting to see him in such ravishing attire… I could say the same to you. The dress I had selected wouldn’t have looked better on anyone else.” He continues to sing praises to you while he kisses your thighs, nibbling just enough to leave small marks on your skin that make goosebumps appear.
“Would you like me to satisfy you dear? Awake the urges that I know you’ve kept this entire day?” He asked, looking up into your lust-filled gaze with hunger, his thumbs remaining under the bands of your panties.
“If your skills are satisfactory, I will allow it.” You huffed jokingly, your hands both resting on his head, massaging his hair gently.
“I may have an infamous silver tongue, but you think it’s only good for running my mouth?” He snickered before tugging your garment down, taking in the sight of your soaked cunt, a bridge of your wetness connecting and breaking away from the gusset of your panties as Loki pulled them away.
“Oh my…” he whispers lowly, his breath fanning your slickness, causing the butterflies in your stomach to stir. His hands roamed all over your body, running over the peaks of your clothed breasts and your stomach, feeling your soft curves sinking beneath the pressure of his fingers. They returned to your thighs, caressing them gently before one hooked a leg over his shoulder, the other using a thumb to spread your folds gently.
“A truly dirty woman indeed.” He cackled, pressing a kiss to your clit, causing your hips to instantly buck into his mouth, the bundle of nerves barely grazing the tip of his nose. “…and greedy may I add?”
“You’re the one who said you had a desire for me.” You rebutted, tugging at his hair, enticing a groan out of Loki.
“Well look at you, undressed and flustered.” You immediately looked away but quickly brought your attention back to Loki once he licked a slow stripe up the slit of your cunt, making you shiver deliciously.
“Allow me to continue further. I would like to worship you, as a queen.”
“I suppose— oh…” you moaned lowly as he was quick to lap at you, the flat of his tongue gliding through your folds with ease. His fingers dug harshly into your thigh, almost hard enough to draw blood, amazingly contrasting with the immense pleasure that flooded your senses. Loki didn’t move his attention anywhere but your eyes, yours watering slightly and constantly rolling back in bliss, making him hum proudly into your cunt while you gasped from the vibration.
He continued, fueled by your hushed gasps and moans as your hips instinctively bucked into his luscious mouth. “That’s it, make a mess, my dear.” Loki spoke, looking into your eyes with a burning desire.
“Keep going…” You said, commanded even, tugging his hair roughly. He happily obliged, closing his eyes as he now truly savored your aching heat. He peppered kisses on your inner thigh and clit, suckling occasionally while flicking his tongue rapidly against your nerves, successfully making your hips buck further into the sensation. Many minutes passed, nearly hours in your mind, and Loki continued, almost bringing you to full tears as he continued to tease your sensitive body, quivering from overstimulation but also from the fact that you didn’t want to give in to his pleasure.
You did not doubt how well his tongue was, how he was able to nearly make you cum countless times, yet his words from earlier were still negatively itching your brain, you wanted to prove him wrong. As your brain scrambled between the thoughts of giving Loki his satisfaction or trying to hold your “powerful” demeanor, Loki’s lips finally detached from your cunt, his mouth and chin glossy from your juices. Both of your eyes had locked for just a moment, a hint of vulnerability as you looked at each other with lust, your eyes both half-lidded and dazed while your chests heaved to regain air.
As you finally catch your breath, you quickly feel the wind get knocked right out of you when Loki inserted a finger into your heat, your eyes widening.
“Is this satisfactory for you yet? Look at the mess you’re making…” You immediately started to moan quietly as he began to pump his finger within you at a slow pace, resting the side of his cheek on your plump thigh.
“Shh… I know, I knowww my darling. I want you to lose yourself, your composure, everything. I know how badly you want to hear me speak, and I can’t help but oblige. Watching you writhe beneath me… your legs twitching and cunt hugging my fingers so tightly… ahh— couldn’t be more satisfying than watching endless galaxies fall into my hands…” He cooed between his desperate and sloppy kisses to your clit, each kiss deepening with every tug you gave to his hair.
Loki’s pace began to quicken, adding a second finger in unknowingly which caused the heel of your foot to dig into his lower back. He then went from two digits to three now pistoning brutally against that delicious spot within you, making your toes curl mindlessly as your teary eyes continued to stay on his. Your hips lifted in the air, trying to fight back against the looming feeling of release. Words spilled from your lips, a mixture of quiet pleas yet slightly louder calls of Loki’s name.
You’re eyes squeeze shut as you felt your orgasm approaching closely, body so incredibly sensitive as Loki continued to use his fingers within you without breaking a sweat while suckling on your clit with pure hunger, his tongue darting out just enough to graze the bundle of nerves. “Close…” you muttered hazily, stars in your vision and the grip on his hair tight.
“Ah, ah, darling. Not quite yet.” He stopped his motions as soon as you spoke, a wet bridge of your juices connecting with his lips, soon breaking after a low chuckle rose out of Loki.
The ruined orgasm made you flustered, cheeks red from embarrassment as you rolled your eyes in annoyance, thighs squeezing tight together once Loki lifted his head from the junction of your legs. “You shouldn’t play with your food, my husband.” You teased lowly.
“Fair.” He shrugged, his eyes roaming over your breasts as you spoke, “Although it’s a bit difficult to resist. Maybe I should truly dig in, hm?” Loki’s body leaned forward, capturing you into another lust-filled kiss, pressing your back into the soft comfort of the bed. One of his arms possessively wrapped around your back, his other hand resting on your hip.
Your tongue instantly darted into his mouth, the mixed taste of yourself and Loki on your tongues as they swirled, coating themselves in sweet saliva. Your hands pulled Loki further into your body as you two turned over in the bed together, your thumbs right in front of his earlobes while the rest of your fingers tangled in his short curls as his back rested against the sheets while your hips were straddling his lap.
“I may return the favor…” you hummed teasingly, moving the rough kiss to his jawline, peppering kisses down from his neck and slowly down his toned torso, occasionally leaving the faintest hickies whilst removing his tuxedo and his lavish green button-up below. His skin felt incredibly cool in comparison to your warm cheeks. You had even flicked your thumb over one of his nipples, earning a groan that interrupted a starting sentence, most likely another bratty remark towards your sudden change in demeanor.
Loki watched, his brow furrowing as you looked into his eyes as your kisses trailed low, leaving small smudges of lipstick just above his belt line where his pants remained. “Hm… What a needy, feeble girl…” The god couldn’t help the snicker that left his lips once you began to tug his slacks down his slender legs, revealing the large bulge straining against his briefs, practically throbbing with a small patch of wetness right where his wanting head was.
“Have I really worked you up this much, my lord?” Your brows raised just a bit, a small smirk on your face although your face was blushing madly. Another dark chuckle filled the room after your question, a small hint of frustration in Loki’s laughter. “Oh, my dear, you have no idea. With every touch, you make it even worse.”
“Shall I stop?” You hooked your fingers beneath the band of his briefs, tugging ever so slightly so you could see his engorged head barely peek over, slick with his pre-cum.
“ No… no.” his voice shook, “Gah… you truly are a fool…” The primal urge that Loki was holding back to just pounce on you, giving in and devouring you whole was so painful as you could clearly see by the way his length throbbed beneath his briefs.
“I’m glad you believe that. What would you do if I were to stop?” You rest your cheek against his clothed shaft, both hands moving from his waist and now resting on the meat of his thighs while you look up into Loki’s eyes innocently.
“A punishment would suffice. But I wouldn’t dare to spoil the surprise of what that possibly could be.” As Loki spoke he let his palm rest over your head, fingers gently threading themselves in your hair and tilting your head just a bit.
“I have many ways I can make you listen like a proper royal.”
“How… Attractive.” You then tugged his briefs down fully, his length springing in your face, the head barely tapping your nose for just a moment. “Oh my…” you cooed, feeling Loki’s hand expand in your hair with a hint of shock, even relief.
“You look tempted… do you enjoy the view?” Loki hummed, a sly smile on his lips as his free hand lowered to your plump lips and the thumb parting them gently. “That is one way to put it.” You chuckled lowly, your laughter being interrupted with a small tug of your hair Loki did to bring your face closer to his cock, practically feeling the warmth radiating from the shaft.
“Ahh, I can tell my sweet thing, you look utterly starstruck. You’re not planning on stepping down now after coming so far, are you?” Loki let his thumb push a bit deeper, sinking between your lips into your warm mouth, pressing down on your tongue just enough to make you squirm. You were quick to swirl your tongue around his thumb, pulling away with a wet pop. “Maybe I need assistance?” You hummed, resting your head against his muscular thigh.
“Dirty girl.” Loki grinned, changing both of your positions quickly so your back was to the sheets, head lolling off the end of the bed while he stood Becky to your shoulder. He crouched for a moment, leaning in to give you another sloppy kiss, his hand wrapping around your neck and squeezing gently, making you gasp into his mouth. He withdrew from your lips before planting a kiss on your forehead.
“What assistance do you possibly need?”
“Maybe your guidance to my lips. Your shaft seems to be too warm to the touch for me to hold…” You pouted teasingly, breath growing heavy once he allowed his cock in your view, hovering just inches away from your lips once more. His member is just as big as your face which made your cunt drip with your wetness.
The god laughed at your innocent-sounding response, truly enjoying the game you were playing with him. “It too looks like your hands wouldn’t be able to hold such a size. I wouldn’t mind helping you.” He lowered his body and leaned forward slightly, the tip of his cock pressing right against your lips. “Open your luscious lips, my wife.”
You nearly turned into putty from his command, quickly obeying and opening your mouth to allow his head to slip in, his member being met with your tongue against his slit. Loki groaned as he felt you suckle the tip, tongue lapping against the opening to collect his pre-cum. He allowed you to continue sucking him but he also waited to see if you were comfortable. You pulled away from his cock for a brief moment, catching your breath and nodding before heading back to his head, taking it within your mouth once again.
“Oh you’re so eager to please your god— what a good girl. Slowly now.” The trickster praised, easing himself further in as he felt your tongue run along the veins that webbed his shaft. It took him a few moments until Loki could fully sheathe himself in your throat, a small bulge forming, the sight making him groan deliciously.
While he let his cock rest in your mouth, Loki leaned forward to trail kisses from your belly to the swell of your breasts, quickly taking off your bra and discarding it to the side before taking a nipple between his lips. Your legs pressed together in response, your body squirming as you whined around his cock, sending heavenly vibrations throughout Loki’s body. His free hand toyed with the other nipple, rolling it between his index and thumb, occasionally tugging to get those extra cries out of you while his tongue circled your areola.
As soon as he was about to move, you quickly tapped Loki’s thigh, needing to get air for a moment. He was quick to withdraw his cock from your throat, coated with his pre-cum and your saliva. Both of you shivered, breathing heavily at the sudden loss of warmth. “By the heavens above…” You heaved, eyeing his glossy length as it remained close to your face.
“Too much now?” He hummed, the free hand that was toying with your nipple moving down to caress your hip.
“Not at all. It’s plenty.”
“That’s my wife.” Loki praised you before he lowered his cock into your mouth once more, rocking his hips back and forth slowly within you. Your mouth was practically stuffed full with his shaft, slowly entering and exiting while you gagged every time he was fully sheathed inside of you. “Careful now, darling. You’re making me lose my composure…” Loki moaned, using his four fingers to rest behind your neck, his thumb resting over the bulge that would form each time he filled your throat.
The image was so lewd that the god couldn’t get enough, although he knew he was reaching his limit. Loki didn’t want to release within her and spoil the sexual banter between you two, knowing you’d poke fun at him for finishing so early. “You’re such a mess. I cannot allow myself to— gah… turn you into shambles so soon.” He withdrew with a pleasured sigh. You coughed once his thickness left your throat, your chest shakily expanding and contracting to catch your breath.
“My days, Loki…!” You coughed, your body rolling over so your face was buried in the sheets, cheeks red with shock as your jaw ached.
“Are you well? You didn’t break, did you?” He purred, moving around the bed and sitting right by your hip, his hands coming up to massage your back while his fingertips occasionally dug below to run over your nipples. Your back arched, hips rising in the air like a cat, and your knees kept you grounded in reaction to his ministrations, groaning in relief. You turned your head just enough so that half of your lips and eyes were visible.
“I need you… my lord…” You pleaded, hunger in your eyes as you looked back at Loki while he continued to knead your skin firmly.
“Patience, my sweet.” Loki responded, bringing a hand down to your ass roughly while the other continued to massage your shoulder. You gasped from the sudden pain, quickly digging your face back into the sheets to muffle the small moan that slipped from your lips.
“Loki, you can’t do that…”
“Why possibly? Your body is telling me otherwise… you’re completely drenched.”
“Please, my husband…” You murmured, gasping once he smacked your skin once more, the stinging sensation making your toes curl.
“What is it that you’re begging me for, my wife? Use your word now.”
“…For you, my husband, I… I beg for your cock, please…”
“Your pleas are so divine. I’ll give you what you want—but I would’ve loved to hear you for a few moments more.” Loki ended his sentence with one last harsh smack to your ass, soothing the reddened area with sweet caressed circles by his palm. He teasingly let his middle and index finger drag against your clit for a brief moment which caused your hips to jolt from the sudden pleasure. You continued to whine into the bed, thighs pressing together to try and shorten his movements, ultimately failing when you felt Loki insert a digit within you, making you melt under his touch.
He curled his middle finger just enough to press deliciously against that sensitive spot within you, eliciting a loud moan muffled by the sheets. “How sinfully delightful.” He murmured into your ear, his breath fanning against your burning skin while he added his ring finger, the two digits adding just enough pressure to your gummy walls to nearly make you cum. You arched your back and hips in the air while you kept your face buried in the sheets while your hands gripped the sheets until your knuckles turned white as you continued to cry out.
Loki continued his motions, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, juices coating the digits and dribbling around your sensitive folds while you continued to moan Loki’s name, the symphony-like music to his ears. He eventually pulled his fingers out of your sopping heat and took them into his mouth to taste you, humming in delight after a few long seconds of sucking his digits. He let them go with a wet pop, teasing cackles following after.“Forgive me, darling. I needed to indulge in you once more. You’re irresistible.”
Your body shook from another near orgasm lost to Loki and his little games, which irritated you, yet you couldn’t pry yourself away from his misleading tactics.
“Please, Loki. Don’t make me plead any further…” You huffed, hips still arched in the air. Loki gave you a devilish grin, massaging your lower thigh gently. “Of course, my dear. You’ve been such an obedient wife after all.” The hum of his voice sent chills down your spine, deliciously enticing the previous butterflies in your stomach to flurry. To have sex with a god, one that you used to know years ago, before different duties had grasped both of your attention.
You were still fighting back against the idea of Loki being so dominant over you, concerned about how one night in bed with him would make you seem weak and inferior despite being on the same wavelength when it came to royalty. You didn’t want to look like a helpless woman in his eyes, even in the public’s view. Fortunately, Loki understood the stance you took earlier while at the dinner table. Every time he would stare into your large eyes, he would feel your resilience. How you were able to change his emotions, even dare to leave him alone at the table without an ounce of fear, drove the god mad with an insatiable hunger for more.
To have a woman who knew her values was something he had been wanting, praying for—and he knew that you were the one.
You felt the bed dip beneath you and Loki’s weight as he fully rested behind you, his hands running down your arched spine, goosebumps breaking out over your skin, all the while you felt his length resting against your thigh. His cock pulsed, twitching against your skin, making you tremble at the lewd idea of him sheathing inside of your longing cunt.
The god took a glance at your wetness once more, using a thumb to spread either fold to reveal the sopping mess you’ve become. “Purely divine…” He muttered, causing you to shudder. “Enough with the teasing, Loki…” You adjust your arms so they’re on either side of your head, hands catching and dragging a pillow close to rest your head on.
Without a word the god plunged his cock within your cunt, slowly sliding himself further inside. You gasped loudly into the sheets while Loki groaned at the feeling of your walls gripping him like a vice. He didn’t give you much time to react, only breathing heavily into the pillow as he filled you slowly.
He paused for a moment, hand coming up to rest on your shoulder to make sure you were alright, not a peep leaving his lips, only ragged breathing. You nod, not turning your head around whatsoever before he began to work himself in further, filling you straight to the hilt of his cock. You couldn’t comprehend how full you felt, walls gently adjusting with the help of Loki’s previous work of his fingers on you. “You feel incredible, darling… Just truly—truly tight…” Loki spoke, his voice wavering just from being inside of you for a few moments. His hand remained on your shoulder while the other gripped the side of your hip, fingernails digging lightly into your soft flesh.
“You can move—“ As you were about to finish your sentence, Loki removed himself, leaving only his tip within before thrusting back inside of you, making your eyes roll back instantly. He continued this motion, agonizingly slow as he wanted to make sure your body was warming up to his length and girth. The head of his cock kissed your cervix multiple times as he continued, slick noises emitting from your entrance as you moaned thoughtlessly into the pillow, hands gripping the sheets before you turned your head around. You and Loki’s eyes met, your teary orbs locking with his half-lidded ones.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked to the god, beneath him, shaking and moaning with tears building in your eyes. In comparison, Loki looked like he was relishing the moment. His hands were holding you in place, hips actively moving back and forth to drag his member within while panting like a dog in heat, seeming so possessive of your body. “Don’t look at me in such a way, my dear— Oh, how shameless you look right now…“ He panted, warning you while he looked down at where you were taking his cock and how it disappeared and reappeared with each drag of his hips.
“Or what, my King?” You spoke wryly, a shaky chuckle leaving your body despite being at his mercy.
“Oh, you think you’re clever?” He snapped his hips harshly against your ass, a penetrating sound resonating in the air as he pressed himself full of the hilt once which earned a loud mewl from you. “What confidence… But do you truly believe you can beat me at my own game?” As his words spurred on while he drilled himself into you, Loki’s hands kept you down as his cock pulsed within you, the god groaning over the feeling of your walls clenching him tight.
You moaned loudly into the pillow beneath you, hands continuing to claw at the silky sheets as you felt Loki grind harshly at the same area that made you melt, causing your thighs to quake with each harsh slap of his own. Your eyes rolled back when his balls would slap against your clit, the sudden touch driving you both mad.
At one point he stopped, allowing a brief moment of rest for the two of you, bodies heaving shakily. You adjusted your upper body slowly so you used your arms to keep yourself sitting upright. He used this moment to press kisses to the back of your neck and shoulders, letting his tongue drag occasionally over your burning skin. As your hand was about to rest on his forearm, Loki gripped your hair, tugging it just enough for you to look fully back at him.
You winced, a small tear forming in the corner of your eye as you looked up into his eye, dark with lust. “You’re losing yourself. It’s a delight to see, considering you were teasing me moments before, darling.”
“Did you not call me a nuisance earlier?” You pried, a teasing yet raspy voice due to all of your cries. Your body shivered in delight as Loki pressed his own to yours.
“You are MY nuisance, every little part of you.” Loki runs his other free hand along your skin to gently grip your neck, his other hand occupied in your hair.
“It s-seems you can’t get enough…” you huffed, eyes still locked on Loki’s as you teased each other, feeling his cock twitch within you with each sentence. “You had so much to say at the table about me, what a strange way to exert them.”
“Exerting them deeply.” He punctuated with a thrust, causing you to yelp loudly. “I’ve learned to express my feelings in a new fashion. It seems like you’re enjoying it just as much as I am.”
“It’s definitely a change, just like your feelings had changed about me and all of what you spoke at the table…” You felt guilty as your thoughts were dragging you out of the moment, dragging you back to how you felt so angry at the table, yet so upset from how Loki was speaking towards you.
Your voice caught in your throat, but the sheer feeling of the mutual back talk was comforting, a sense of ease washing over you. It felt like an intimate challenge, a satisfying challenge of who could ruin the other first.
“The time when I had called you many names?” He hummed, “Idiotic? Shameful? Incapable?” He punctuated his words with a slam of his hips to your ass, his hand moving from your neck to your hip, gripping harshly while his other hand remained in your scalp.
“Y-Yes- oh.. those exact words you stapled on me…” You moaned hoarsely.
“Such cruel, awful words that I had said… Is it sick…? Me, a god, wanting you even after what I had said?”
“Just a little.” You admitted, “But I’ve got to say, the sheer hatred you showed me earlier, the sudden words along with your looks, your facial features, and the way you looked, so formally dressed for the marriage… it was so gravitating, the hatred you had fueled my own, yet here we are in such a wild position.”
The hand he had around your neck loosened as he hunched his head close to yours, voice turning into a low growl. “And what exactly fueled that hatred of yours, darling? Was it my words, or was it something more severe?”
“Your words flooded my mind, making me rebut every sentence,” you hissed between your teeth as his pace slowed down, sensually thrusting his pulsing cock in your sweet gummy walls. “I couldn’t stand your remarks, they angered me, brought me almost to tears in all honesty…”
Loki’s expression softened just a smidge, a small pang of guilt resonating within his body. Before he got to speak, his thoughts interfering with his thrusts, you spoke first once again. “I know you meant those words, but I meant mine as well. Our hatred is strong, but we are just expressing that right here and now.”
“I didn’t truly mean to hurt you.” He spat out of self-shame.
“You didn’t. But those words did hurt. But I will make you pay, of course. I’ll simply ride our hatred out of each other.”
Your words were just as bold as your actions, moving yourself away from him and his cock, the length slipping from your heat while you lead Loki in changing positions. You were now straddling his hips, your thighs caging his own while his cock throbbed right in front of your pelvis.
Loki couldn’t help but grin mischievously, a mixture of excitement and awe brewing within his mind as your confidence shone through, almost blinding. “Will you last to ride out every last drop?” He teased, clenching the meat of your thighs with both of his hands. He massaged your skin with his thumb, digging just enough to further rile you up.
“Another challenge?” You questioned, your voice quickly turning into a groan as you sunk yourself onto his cock, feeling his hot length stretching you quickly, drowning in your wetness. You braced yourself against his torso, your lower hands flat against his toned stomach while Loki groaned with you. His eyes locked on yours once again, licking his lips with a smirk. “Another challenge won’t hurt… I’ve thrown so many at you after all.” Loki purred.
“If you finish first, you have to pull out. If I finish first, you can stay within.” You spoke, not an ounce of shakiness in your voice despite your darkened cheeks, your body remaining still while trying to readjust to Loki’s cock. The king couldn’t help the cackle that left his throat, his chest heaving. “How tempting… What if we were to finish at the same time? What then, hm?” He teased you further, one of his hands moving from your thigh to the flat of your back, fingertips hardly ghosting your skin to have you arch like a cat, goosebumps sprouting through your body.
“A-A silly thought…” You muttered, “We shall see, my husband.” You slowly began to move your hips, trying to keep yourself from losing your power and just plopping your rear down on his thighs while you raised and lowered yourself hesitantly. Your legs were experiencing aftershocks from your previous orgasms, your cunt still so sensitive as you stretched around his cock as it pulsed with every movement you offered. Countless moans left your lips, a mixture of pleasure and slight pain being expressed through how hard you were gripping Loki’s strong shoulders, fingertips digging into his skin.
A low groan tore from Loki’s throat, your walls gripping his length like a vice while you moved your hips. Your breasts were practically bouncing in his face, hypnotizing him as small, mindless whimpers slipped from his mouth. “You truly are— ngh... testing your limits, aren’t you, dear?” He hummed, voice wavering. “You wouldn’t want to lose this bet.”
Although your motions were slow, the pleasure was immense, Loki’s tip constantly coming to press against your cervix, which made your head spin. You began to slowly speed up despite your tired legs, Loki’s words sparking another wave of competitiveness over your mind. Before you even had a chance to protest you felt a hand grope one of your breasts, causing a groan to escape and your body to rest on his thighs again, grinding your clit right against his pelvis since you couldn’t lift yourself in the moment. It will suffice.
Loki’s thumb tweaked your nipple when you began to speak. “I know you’d love for me to lose, to even have us finish at the same time…” you were about to speak further when you felt Loki thrust harshly into your cunt, a grunt slipping from the god and a cry from you. He had noticed your exhaustion miles away, intending to help you in his best interest. His cock was able to hit such a sensitive spot within you, a spot that made you see stars as your head rolled back.
“You know me well. It’s a shame you must always test my patience…”
“And yet you always succumb to my words.” You interrupted his words with a messy kiss, leaning forward and swirling your tongue with his and pulling away. “A pathetic man who would lose himself for his wife—“ your statement quickly being shut down when you felt Loki’s cock twitch within your cunt, threatening to unleash the load he’s been holding back for days since the announcement of you two being wed.
The moment his cock had reacted, he unleashed a fury of rushed thrusts into your desperate heat, his thighs slapping against yours quickly. Loki’s hands continued to toy with your nipple, the other moving from your thigh to your pelvis, using his thumb to press and rub circles into your clit. You moaned out in bliss, feeling like you were being attacked from every sensitive angle you had.
“You don’t have a single clue of what I'm capable of…” he spoke, voice cold and husky, “I want you to finish… lose this silly bet first…” he continued to mummer your name lowly, pressing kisses over your collarbone before heading to your other breast, suckling the nipple and letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin.
You buried your head into his neck, teeth grazing his skin while moans continued to spill from you, jumbled words and pleads spurting out when you began to meet Loki’s thrusts. You both rocked in synchronization, Loki cackling as you lost yourself in pleasure before tugging your hair sharply, dragging your head out of his neck, a yelp from you following when he forced you to look at him while he continued to massage your clit.
“Do you enjoy toying with me like this?” He huffed, voice shaky from his constant movements that soon grew even more erratic. He took in your form, shaking and begging for more as your cunt clenched around him so tightly as if he was going to leave. Your eyes were watering, small tears streaking down your cheeks out of pleasure. “B-But of course— oh! My husband…” You muttered feeling your orgasm inch closer with every second.
Loki’s eyes widened ever so slightly, continuing to take in the sight of you unraveling, strands of your hair sticking to your face with your eyes rolling back constantly. “Again. Say it again.” He cooed, the grip on your thighs harsh as he helped guide you on his cock while he slammed his hips up into you.
“M-My lord… husband… gah—! Loki! I’m close..!” Your words were rushed, quaking as Loki grew more erratic, his thrusts becoming more sloppy.
“Keep going…”
“With me— cum w-with me..! Please, my lord..!” You cried, tears fully flowing from your eyes. It only took Loki a few more of your cries and moans before he started to curse beneath his breath right before he lifted his hips as high as he could, his cock pressing deeply against your cervix before he removed his hands from your hair and clit to hold both of your thighs down, rope after rope of his seed spilling within you.
He groaned as he felt your walls convulse around his cock, your cum mixing with his while your hips bucked madly for that few extra feelings of heightened ecstasy with how your clit ground against his pubic bone. You both moaned madly, panting like animals before you realized you had squirted just above the base of his cock, his tip pressing deeply enough writhing you to cause your system to stir.
The pleasure that had been repressed due to Loki’s persistent halts had finally boiled over; your juices pooled and trailed down his torso while Loki watched you ejaculate in small waves which caused him to snicker in between his moans.
As you both rode off your highs, Loki’s body was still shivering over the aftermath, his breathing ragged while he still felt your walls twitch around his cock, cum oozing from the smallest openings where your intimate parts met. You too had your aftershocks, your hip bucking slowly coming to an end as you allowed your full weight to rest on Loki’s body, your breasts pressing against his chest while he ran a hand over your back to massage your skin sweetly. Both of your chests rose and fell with each breath, a look of pure lustful intoxication still laced in each of your looks.
“…You came so much…” you squeaked hoarsely, breaking the silence while you stared at Loki with half-lidded eyes, noting the cum slowly dribbling from your entrance despite his cock remaining inside of you. He looked up at your fucked out look, chuckling over her words. “You look… utterly wrecked, darling.” He smiled warmly before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, his tongue messing with yours for a brief moment before pulling away.
A dreamy sigh came out of you as Loki gropes your sore ass, kneading your flesh gently before slapping it. You whimper in reaction, a bit more of your combined cum seeping out from your cunt. “How messy… tempting...” Loki hummed.
“Tired…” you mutter, too spent to attempt to form another sentence. You bury your head into the crook of his neck just like before, cuddling him and wrapping your hands around his shoulders and neck. Loki’s hands continued to pamper you, one massaging your back and the other caressing your shoulder, taking in your worn-out form lovingly.
“You did so well, my wife.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek.
“…I never want to hear you call me a ‘feeble mind’ ever again…” you spoke with a throaty laugh.
“Oh, I won’t,” Loki agreed with a playful tone, “…But please know those words… I no longer mean. I know you have a sharp mind, I just wasn’t too fond of admitting it.”
“Amazing to hear. I had a feeling you weren’t so heartless at that dinner table. Besides, we knew each other many, many years ago… But now I am most likely to have your heir to the throne. It’s so soon… we’ve only just wed today!” There was a pang of concern in your voice that Loki quickly picked up on.
“It’s all happening so fast, yet that’s how it usually goes for us, no?” Loki would pause, his expression growing serious. “But you’re right, we have expectations from our people, to raise the proper heir being one of them.”
“I wouldn’t mind having a child with such a rowdy man who can be quite stubborn, as I.” You laugh loudly, pressing a kiss to Loki’s cheek. “A man who thought he had complete control over me the second we laid eyes on each other after the wedding.”
Loki smirked, moving one of his hands to cup your cheek tenderly, his thumb swiping over your skin. “Talk about stubbornness. You were the one throwing remarks back and forth with me.” He snickered playfully. “As for control, sweetheart, we both know who truly has that. But let us not ruin this moment with our bickering.”
“I suppose.” You roll your eyes, adjusting your position to rest your head beneath his head and collarbone, Loki resting his chin on your forehead while he continues to stroke your back lazily.
“Comfortable?” He hummed, his voice notably tired. You nod in silence, letting your body finally rest as you begin to drift off to sleep.
“Rest up, my dear.” Loki presses a kiss to your temple before you fall asleep in each other’s arms as the bustle of the wedding continues throughout the night.
Anyways imagine being ghosts younger partner, very much the typical shy thing that clings to a big strong guy like ghost. He's learned to ignore the teasing comments from his mates about it, more focused on cuddling up with you in bed.
"I don't want you to call me dad." He tells you one night, face squished into your shoulder blade. You two had just started being more intimate, and it seems ghost has deemed now the perfect time to lay down the rules of engagement. "Or daddy, or papa, or whatever other fatherly term."
Ghost thinks of his own dad and grimaces. Yeah, the last thing he wants to be is anyone's father, and you're too young for him to be calling you dad like he did price. "None of that 'choke me daddy' shit, got it?"
"Awww, you're no fun." You huff playfully, but make sure to note that down. Then, teasingly, you add "what about mommy? You've got the tits for it. You'd like being called mama?"
You giggle at your own joke, and wait for ghost to respond with a ghost-like quip. Except...he goes still at your back, muscles tensing. "Uhm."
"Hey. Simon, it's cool–" you frown, wiggling around to face ghost, brows pinched "if you don't want me to call you that, I won't. I was just playing–"
As you shift, your thigh rubs against something hard between ghosts legs, and he gasps. You both stare at eachother, frozen. His face turns bright red, looking away "uh– it's— if you weren't serious–"
"Oh my god!" You perk up, far too excited as ghost curls away in embarrassment. "You would! You'd love it! Simon, this is great!"
Ghost, meanwhile, is burning in humiliation and contemplating how fast he can reach the gun on the nightstand as you straddle his torso. "I....it's nice."
"Mmmhh, feels more than nice, mommy." You counter, sliding down to rub against his bulge. Seeing how flushed the whole thing has ghost, you snuggle up to his chest and ask "help me please? It'd make me happy, mommy."
"....fuckin' hell, kid." Ghost grunts, but indulges and grabs your hips. Slowly, he guides you to grind againdt his clothed erection, muttering "you need mama for everything, hm? Can't even get off without me?"
"Yes, yes, mama. I need you–"
Your words are cut off by a sudden jerk of ghosts hips, and suddenly he's tossing his head back with a gasp and–
"Holy shit, si." You whisper, awestruck. Never, in all the months you've known ghost, has he ever done that "did you just...?"
"...yeah." he sounds just as shocked.
Ghost just came in his pants because you called him Mama.
marvel rivals fanfic except you’re the player and half of them are hopelessly inlove with you but they can’t get to you through a screen so they have to figure out a way with the help of doctor strange
Imagine stressing about the date you plan to go on with your captain, Price...
Sure, he's sweet and affectionate with you in the hidden corners of the base, but you never wear anything too revealing around there. Nothing form-fitting, always geared towards comfort.
On base, there's at least the illusion that you're skinny enough to be the pretty thing he wants to chase after.
But...not now, as you stand in the mirror. You frown at how every dress you've tried on just..doesn't work. The pudge of your lower stomach hangs out, fat rolls on your sides. It's a simple black dress, but form fitting. It looked nice on the model.
You're tempted to call it off, tell price to cancel his plans, when you hear a knock on your door. Price is here. You can't avoid this.
You open the door, resolutely staring at John's shoes to avoid seeing his reaction. He's dead silent for a long, agonizing moment. You're not sure what to think besides please don't be disgusted.
"...bloody hell, kid," he huffs, voice low and stunned "yer not plannin' on wearing that out, are you?"
Your stomach drops, lips trembling. Before you can force out an apology, price is stepping into your space, hands finding your hips "christ– i won't be able to stop myself if you do. Yer trying to kill yer old man, huh?"
Your eyes dart up to his face, and with a startling realization you note that price is smiling. Face red, brows pinched, but smiling. "you like it, then...?" You ask, unable to stop your doubt.
"Like it? Love, ahm about ready to bend you over right now," price chuckles, warm palms sliding over your pudgy stomach. He freezes over your hips, and you're sure he can feel how your lingerie hugs and pinches your fat in ever so slightly.
"Fucking hell–" he groans, head dropping with a rough exhale. Price pushes you further into the room hurriedly "actually, how about we postpone, eh kid? I wanna see what else you've been hiding–"
Well...turns out price is more than happy about your weight. He makes sure you know that, thoroughly and several times over that night.
support!reader who’s earned the affection of the two tanks, Dr. Strange and Magneto. mag will toss you a bubble or strange will explode the enemy so they don’t harm you and in exchange you keep them up. after a particularly nasty fight they’re both pretty banged up and you’re nowhere near your ultimate! your primary fire, regular bullets charged up with healing magic stored within your body, aren’t doing the job fast enough and they need to get back out there before the enemy delivers the payload! lucky for your vanguards, stephen knows how to tap right into your magic’s source with the help of the master of magnetism, of course.
“keep your head up,” magneto instructed, plunging his cock into your hole. you moaned, thighs trembling against dr. strange’s palms. your feet where off the floor and your back to him and your front to magneto, sandwiched between two vanguards and their cocks while bullets bounced off the giant piece of concrete you three took cover behind.
dr. strange shuddered as he slid into you embarrassingly easily, both massive cocks deliciously rubbing against each other while you clamped down, making the two men groan out in pleasure.
“ah, much better,” magneto chuckled, his tongue sliding between your lips while strange reached to rub liver your clit with his fingers, your poor pussy clamping down as they fucked you through another orgasm.
stephen moaned, softly biting your ear, greedily pulling your ass back against his hips. “your magic is…ah…exemplary, my dear,” he panted, peppering kisses onto your flushed cheek. both their cocks moved agonizingly slow, both men too aware of their size.
magneto was less vocal than strange but no less sweet. he grunted against your mouth, pulling away to let you breathe, his beard tickling your neck as his rythm grew increasingly faster. “truly a marvel,” magneto praised, locking eyes with strange. he was close too. their cocks rubbed against each other inside your sopping pussy, bouncing you between them before they simultaneously groaned, flooding your spent cunt.
you craned your head up, fucked out and buzzing with pleasure. “all healed?”
magneto an strange exchanged glances. their health bars had been maxed out ages ago…
Could you do a smut of president Loki and fem secretary reader?
Oh yeah... that can certainly be arranged ;)
Presidential Feast
President!Loki x Fem!Secretary!Reader
Description: Things are not all they appear to be in the office of the president's secretary. Though you work diligently at your desk, there is a certain someone who works even harder to get you to come undone completely from below.
A/N: I blacked out and when I woke up, there were two thousand words of Loki smut on my computer screen. Dunno how that happened. Fair warning, this is barely proofread. I'm just amazed I wrote this in one sitting LOL
Word Count: 2k
“...So, if there is any way I could speak to him directly…”
The saccharine smile wears at the corners of your lips. You’ve worn it for hours now, feigning pleasantries, signing papers, redirecting and avoiding pointless or dangerous questions from the press. You were excellent at keeping face, as it were, but even still…
This job was exhausting.
Maybe it was foolish of you to expect people to use their eyes. President Loki was clearly busy in his office, preoccupied as he leafed through stacks and stacks of backlogged paperwork. You could quite clearly see that through the door’s window. Apparently, most of your appointments, scheduled or otherwise, were incapable of seeing the commander in chief hard at work. Why else would they bother you ceaselessly for a chance to speak with him?
At least your superior had a soft spot for you. A new desk made from gorgeous stained mahogany sits before you, polished to almost a mirror-like shine. It feels sinful to rest your elbows upon it as you lean forward and prop your chin on your wrist.
Though, perhaps it’s not nearly so sinful as what happens beneath.
When the president had procured this desk for you, he ensured it was the best in all aspects. Naturally, this included a spacious, enclosed area for you to stretch your legs. The legroom truly was unparalleled and quite comfortable. If you wanted to, you could easily crouch down and fit underneath. After all, that’s exactly what Loki is doing right now.
While you explain for the billionth time today that the president is not available at present, gesturing to the clone that pantomimes reading documents the next room over, the real Loki kneels between your legs and bites softly at your inner thigh. His teeth drag bluntly over the sensitive skin before he sucks on it, marking you under the mini skirt he’s bunched up around your hips.
“He… he’s clearly quite busy--” You inhale sharply when his tongue laves over the dark bruises he’s created upon the canvas of your legs. The man standing in front of you eyes you curiously with an arched brow. Canines dig into your tongue to stifle the moan at the back of your throat. Loki’s breath is hot against your core through the fabric of your underwear. “--and I am not feeling terribly well. If you could just try again tomorrow--”
“I have been attempting to get a hold of him for three weeks now!” the man exclaims as his face grows red. “This policy needs his attention immediately!”
“Sir, if I might remind you, that is not how the American government works. You would be much better off addressing this with your representative in the House, and--ah-!”
With a hand over your mouth, you bite down on your index finger to muffle any further slip-ups. You can feel the smirk on Loki’s lips as they lead feather-light kisses closer and closer to your folds. Fingers curl into a white-knuckled fist as you grip the edge of your desk.
Thankfully, your current “client” is far too focused on his own agenda to pay attention to your strange behavior.
“That’s exactly why I’m here! I called and called, and I think they blocked my number--”
You barely hear what he’s saying even with his frantic gestures and waving his arms. The man is clearly quite animated about whatever it is he’s going on about. It’s hard to focus on that when your senses hone in on the dextrous fingers that hook in the waistband of your undergarments. It’s a bit difficult while you’re sitting down, but he manages to shimmy them down your hips without too much effort on your part.
Thankfully for you, this man seems more than content to ramble on about how important this proposal is and why it should be the first thing on the agenda. So much so that he begins pacing about the room as he talks.
And then Loki’s tongue flattens and paints a fat stripe through your folds. You’re so glad this guy is turned away from you when your eyes roll back and you clamp your hand over your mouth fully. That accursed, talented appendage zigzags and swirls, drawing patterns all along your slit but never quite high enough where you want it most. He drinks of your nectar, feasts on your essence. Your breath comes out in staggered gasps and your brows knit together.
“Are you even listening to me!?” the man practically shouts, startling you and pulling your attention away from the euphoria between your legs. “I swear, the government these days--!”
“Do you wish for me to deal with him, my dear?” you feel more than hear Loki’s words as he whispers them, his cheek pressed lazily against the plush of your thigh while his verdant green eyes gaze up at you. His lips glisten with your slick, and it makes your head spin with desire. It would be so tempting, so easy…
But you snap out of it and shake your head. No, you wish to do this yourself. It’s part of your job, after all, at least in a roundabout way. And if your intuition is correct, really all you’ll need to do is change your approach.
The real challenge is staying focused while Loki gets back to work lapping at your cunt.
“I understand your frustrations, sir,” you practically coo, removing your hand from your face and leaning forward. You bat your long, fake eyelashes up at him. His demeanor changes instantly and you see his shoulders relax. “I really am listening. You were just so passionate about it that I was taken aback.”
“You… yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just such a serious matter, and no one is listening…” he bemoans.
“Such a mischievous little devil,” Loki purrs quietly. Your legs tremble on either side of his head with the effort it takes to keep yourself composed. “You’re playing this poor man like a fiddle, aren’t you? What a cruel mistress…” The nearly inaudible chortle rumbles through his lips and onto your dripping core. It sends a shudder through your entire body and prickles your skin.
You make a show of licking your lips before pinching the bottom one between the tips of your canines. Loki is right--you have this man absolutely captivated.
“Here, sweetheart,” you begin, sliding a sticky note towards him. “I’m sorry there’s nothing more I can do today, but that’s my personal cell. Give me a call tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do for you, okay?” It’s almost sickening putting on a show like this, but it might as well be your calling with how easily he buys it. He’s cradling the piece of paper in his hands like it’s some sort of holy artifact as he thanks you profusely and finally makes his exit from your office.
As soon as the door closes behind him, in fact, you finally exhale the breath you were holding with an airy whimper.
“Mm,” Loki moans into your folds. He rewards you with a flick of his tongue at your clit that leaves you digging your nails into the wood. “What a perfect succubus you make. Tell me…” he begins, teasing a finger at your entrance. “Who did that number belong to? I know you wouldn’t dare give such a lowly creature your actual information.”
“It’s--” You keen and bite your lip when his long finger slowly curls into you. “It was your--fuck--” Loki smiles devilishly as your hips buck into his hand. “--your brother’s cell.” Your cheeks flush and you laugh breathlessly. “I imagine that will be quite… quite the conversation tomorrow…”
An almost evil laugh thrums in his chest. “Gods, but I do love that wonderfully deviant mind of yours,” he praises as he begins thrusting the digit in and out. Kitten licks flutter against your sensitive bud, and your toes curl in your heels.
“And I--” you huff, moving instead to grip the more comfortable arms of your office chair, “I need more of that deviant tongue of yours,” you joke breathily.
He slides a second finger into you and begins pressing against the soft, spongy spot, grinning wickedly when he feels your thighs tense around him. “Making demands of your president? How terribly daring of you.”
Words are beginning to fail you even before his lips encircle your clit. Your chest heaves as you whimper with every breath. He sucks on that pleasurable little bud, timing every curl of his fingers with a practiced swipe of his tongue. Ecstasy builds and bubbles in your core, and you try so desperately to contain the sounds that threaten to spill from your lips. Even if no one is here right now, someone could walk in at any moment. That thought shouldn’t thrill you nearly as much as it does, and you feel Loki chuckle as he suckles on your clit.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he purrs. “The thrill, the danger, chasing such forbidden pleasures…” A low whine sounds in your throat as he continues. “I wonder… what would you do if someone were to discover you like this, in the throes of pleasure?” He slows his fingers, instead thrusting with purpose as your walls quiver around them. “Would you stop me?” He knows your answer when you mewl and tighten around him, but he asks anyway. “Or would the desire only intensify as you ride my tongue and desperately chase your release?”
“Loki, fuck--!” You’re so close, so desperately close, hanging off of the precipice as the pleasure below waits to consume you.
But his fingers still inside you, and the flicks of his tongue that punctuated his words cease entirely. The edge was right there, but now you feel it slipping away from your grasp as a mournful wail rings from you.
“That is President Loki to you,” he corrects you before busying his mouth by biting and sucking at the skin of your thighs. “You will address me properly if you want to continue indulging in this… deviant tongue of mine.”
Your breathing is ragged. Your nails are threatening to rip off the padding of your armrests. “P… President…” Your eyes nearly roll back when his fingers drag slowly through your velvety walls. It’s more, but it’s not enough. Your body trembles. “President Loki, please.”
Immediately you feel his fingers thrusting vigorously in and out of your soaked core. Your moaning returns in full force, potential visitors be damned.
“That’s it. You sound so terribly pretty when you beg for me,” he praises. His tongue finds your clit and swirls feverishly about the bud, and you feel all of the pleasure that had begun to fade return tenfold as you grind shamelessly onto his face. It’s a fire roaring in your belly that licks its flames outwards to tingle at your fingers and toes. Loki moans his own appreciation as he slurps and swallows, smacking lewdly as he drinks up everything you give him. The vibrations push you over the edge as you let out a silent scream, mouth agape as your thighs clamp around his head and you buck wildly against his tongue.
Your body slumps in your chair as you stare, dazed, off at nothing in particular. Your chest heaves with the effort of catching your breath. The orchestrator of your undoing merely smirks, licking delicate stripes up your sensitive folds that make you twitch and whimper from the overstimulation.
“What a beautiful mess you make,” he regards you as his tongue collects your essence from his lips. Before you have the chance to reply, to right yourself, he snaps his fingers and vanishes from his place beneath you.
Well, he doesn’t vanish completely.
No, instead he takes the place of his clone, and when your bliss induced stupor finally allows you to glance over through the window into his office, you see him smiling wickedly and patting his face gingerly with a handkerchief. Perfectly composed, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred while you try desperately to recollect yourself from a mind shattering orgasm.
i saw somewhere where they have to have meetings with agents about if a beautiful woman talks to them, chances are, they’re a spy. so here’s simon ignoring you bc he’s trained to believe you might be a spy when you just think he’s attractive. fem! reader
Simon rarely got approached by women. And when he does, he ignores them. Did you really expect a man who chooses work over his mental state to fall in love? Let’s be honest.
Just a few days ago, Simon had officially signed a lease to an apartment a few minutes away from the base. No one knows why; given how that man was such a workaholic, they assumed he’d be living in the quarters till he died.
Truth was, Simon was just sick of it. There wasn’t any privacy and even in his higher rank, the room was a clusterfuck. Too small for a man standing at 6’3 and had way too many personal belongings.
There Simon was, unloading the boxes from his vehicle in the parking lot, stacking two ontop of one another. He had done extensive research on apartments nearby and found that this one was the best of all. Underground parking, a lift that actually worked, a safe community, and a decent price for a one bedroom apartment.
The sound of water going through the pipes echoed within the underground parking, Simon’s footsteps sounding ten times louder with how quiet the lot was. He walked over to the lift, holding up two large boxes filled with clothes.
He wasn’t even sure where he was going— but fuck it. He’ll figure it out. Let’s just hope he doesn’t ram into someone’s vehicle, a wall, or a pole.
As he made his way over to the lift, his right hand fumbled from underneath the box, trying to reach for the button. His right knee was proped up to help his left arm carry the weight. Now, he was a strong man. But he never claimed to have great stability. “Fuckin’ hell,” he grumbles, his finger just barely missing the button.
Simon couldn’t even peak over the boxes; one wrong move and his whole closet would fall from his hands. Just as he was about to give up and set the boxes down (which he should’ve done in the first place), he heard someone speak up besides him. “Oh, I got it!”
Simon immediately snapped his head over to the owner of the voice, seeing you stand besides him and press the button in front of him.
Fuck.
You’re fucking pretty.
Too pretty that he was glaring.
“Are you a new resident?” you asked, waiting for the lift to come down.
He didn’t hear you. He didn’t hear the sound of a vehicle beeping, the sound of a door closing, or even the garage opening. He didn’t even hear your footsteps and the entirety of this parking lot was too echo-y for Simon’s liking.
When he realizes that he had been staring at you for too long, he looks ahead (at the boxes in front of his face) and glares at it like it wronged him. “Hm,” was all Simon hummed out, followed by a short nod.
The lift dinged open and Simon waited for you to enter. “Nice to meet you,” you tell the man with a polite smile, awkward as hell of a smile but still enough to pass off as polite. Right after, you had given your name out to him, expecting him to reply. But all he did was let out a grunt. You stared at him, brows twitching before watching the doors shut, “Okay…” you mumbled out, a bit put-off by his silence, “…What number?”
“I’ll wait,” Simon snapped immediately.
Now you’re starting to think this fucker doesn’t like you. What did you do! You just pressed the button because you saw him struggling! This is the last time you’re helping out a man!
“…Right,” you replied flatly, pressing your level and took two steps away from Simon, staring at the doors in front of you.
A month had gone by since that incident and Simon would often see you around the apartment. He found out that the two of you lived on the same level that same day he met you.
What a “coincidence.”
Now, if the average person thought that some spy was out to get them, they’d be labeled as crazy and have to be put into a psych ward. But Simon? No, he was trained for this. No drop dead, beautiful woman would choose to talk to him.
He had scars on his face, dark eyes that made him look like he’s seen way too many horrible things, a rugged look that screams “I haven’t showered in six weeks and put on cologne to mask the B.O!”
So yeah, no. He didn’t trust the pretty lass down the hall. Not one bit.
And you? You were put off by how strange Simon was. He greeted the property owner with a nod and often spoke to Mary Rae, the grannie that lived besides him.
Being put-off by him didn’t make you want to stop all interactions though. He was rugged, sure. But so is Tom Hardy in most of his films where he had to look like a mess and you’d devour that man, given the chance. Plus, you’re sure he’s just got some major anxiety.
It was an accident; you had subconsciously made note of when Simon arrived from work. It just so happened to be around the same time you got home from work as well; you can’t blame yourself. The lift had been broken for about a week now and the property owner said that he’d get it fixed by next week.
So the two of you, for the past week, have been awkwardly walking up the stairs to your flats. You’ve tried to engage in small talk with him but all he does is shoot you a glare and… Well, that was it.
What an asshole.
Meanwhile, Simon was regretting everything. John was right. He’d have to be more wary of his surroundings. And what was his luck? The first apartment he signed a lease to, some weird spy (who, in his mind, is NOT good at their job) was all up in his personal bubble.
He’s catching on and he is not going to let this slide!
“What… Uh… You’re in the military?” you ask, walking two steps ahead of Simon. Because he would never let you walk behind him. He’s got his guard up.
You looked over your shoulder, noticing the man glare daggers behind your head. Your question was dumb, but you were honestly just trying to make small talk. He was wearing his uniform for christ alive.
Simon though? He thinks you’re trying to dig information. Gosh, did you think you were going to get away with this?!
When he didn’t answer, you pursed your lips and licked your front teeth, “got it,” you muttered under your breath. Turning away, you finally reached the level and opened the door— this time, not even bothering to hold the door for him.
This is the last time you ever try to be nice to some old ass man who pretends to be deaf! Sure, he may be handsome. Sure, he may be tall. Sure, he may be built. Sure, he may have some nice tattoos you’ve tried complimenting on. SURE! He may or may not be your type. But you sure as hell know how he feels about you now!
Another month had gone by and by now, Simon had been living in the unit for almost three months. You had finally stopped bombarding him with questions. He thinks that you’re being told to back off because you’re coming off as too strong.
It wasn’t until he requested John to look into you that he realized he was severely wrong.
“She works at a goddamn hair salon!” John explained, slamming down the file containing information about you. The file hit his desk, blowing a small gush of air towards Simon as if it was laughing at him.
They had send a few people to surveillance you… In better terms: stalk. All because Simon had gotten too suspicious of you.
“She works from eight to five, Mondays through Thursdays, Riley. We’ve been watching her for a whole month and nothing has changed in her routine besides that one Thursday night after work, she went out for ice cream and cried in the parking lot!” John expressed, pulling his bucket hat down in frustration.
As Simon looked through the file, he felt deeply uncomfortable. And embarrassed. And worst of all, he felt like the rudest bastard alive. For three months, he’s been ignoring your small talks and polite smile just because he thought you were a spy.
“T’ be fair, she’s a beautiful lass. Thought she was a spy,” Simon replies bluntly. One thing he can’t do, was admit he was wrong.
John rubbed his eyes, grumbling out something that sounded like: “wasted time and money for this, Riley,” and “you lost your only chance at love with a pretty lass.”
Simon’s brows twitched behind his balaclava, straightening up in his seat. He couldn’t even defend himself. What John said was true.
“Go— Just go apologize to her for being an asshole or— I don’t know, something!” John waved Simon off, too tired and now, afraid to explain to Kate about how he had spent one month stalking a pretty woman all because Simon thought he had a hit out on him.
But yeah, Simon planned on apologizing. He wasn’t sure if you were going to accept it though.
Simon “I purposely antagonize the missus so she yells at me” Riley is currently getting reamed a new one in the middle of base, and Gaz- poor unfortunate soul- walks right into the middle of it.
You’ve got Ghost pinned in place with nothing but your voice. No hands on him, no weapons, just fury and sharp words.
Kyle slows. Stares. Immediately regrets having eyes.
And yet he can’t look away.
He drifts over to Soap, who’s posted up nearby like this is a cinema and he paid for premium seating. “Uh,” Gaz says quietly, because volume feels disrespectful in the presence of whatever that is. “What’s all that about?”
Soap doesn’t even glance over. “That’s his missus,” he says, like he’s explaining the weather. “And he must have done some thin’ truly bad this time, ‘cause she’s been going at him for twenty minutes.”
Gaz’s brows shoot up. “Should we… help? Get him out of it?”
Soap makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a snort. “Help? Mate, look at him.”
Gaz looks.
Really looks.
Ghost’s shoulders are relaxed. Not braced. Not defensive. His weight’s pitched forward, like he’s drawn to you by gravity. Half lidded eyes, head tilted, body language screaming more, please while your words get sharper.
Gaz swallows. “He’s… enjoying this?”
Soap’s grin turns positively feral. “Turns him on. Si’s exactly where he wants to be right now.”
Gaz stares at Ghost like the man just sprouted another head.
And Ghost, like he can feel the judgment, flicks his gaze over, catches Gaz watching, and doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. If anything, his eyes crinkle like he’s smiling under the mask.
Thinking about alpha!ghost with severe cuteness aggression...
Being a guy as big and intimidating as him, it's impossible to see the cute omega sergeant and not get cuteness aggression. The first time he meets you, he hardly speaks a word, but price finds him three hours later beating the shit out of a punching bag and muttering about "cute fuckin' eyes...adorable fuckin' smile..." and leaves him to it.
He really tries to contain it the first few weeks, he doesn't want to scare you off namely because price would have him running laps for a week straight.
Still...his instincts get the better of him sometimes. Which is how you end up getting your back slammed against some wall while ghost aggressively scents you like a very angry cat, rubbing his neck to yours so hard your whole body jerks at the motion.
Other times, when he's been away from you for awhile, he'll pin you to the nearest surface and teeth at your throat, arms, shoulders, anything he can get. Always accompanied by a very fond growl.
Sure...you could get him to stop if you really wanted. People certainly have offered, assuming the worst. But...it's kind of fun in a thrilling way knowing all the power ghost has, and all he does with it is shower you in affection.
No thoughts just hyperspermia!ghost who has no clue that he doesn't produce a normal amount cum.
Imagine pulling ghost into a supply closet after he confesses he's never had a blowjob before. Impulsive and full of adrenaline, either of you could die tomorrow. Why not enjoy the moments you can with ghost, instead of waiting?
"Fuck– ohh...that's good, love." Ghost grunts, head thumping against the closet wall as you take him into your mouth, glad for your well-tamed gag reflex.
It's obvious ghost is new to this by the way his muscled thighs jump under your fingers, hips bucking forward with a shuddered "ah! Sorry– sorry, you feel good. Christ–"
At least he has the decency to stutter out a warning when he feels close, hands clenching tight at his side to stop from shoving you down to the base.
You knew coming into this you'd have to swallow, and hum in delight as ghost's cock twitches against your tongue and a salty warmth fills your mouth.
Except...it doesn't stop.
"Mmhhhg, thank you, thank you–" ghost groans into the air, unaware of you struggling to swallow down another mouthful of cum. It's viscous and warm, each spurt filling your mouth only for more to come. Coating your throat thoroughly while you essentially chug him down.
When it finally stops, you have to sit back on your knees and just breathe for a moment. Ghost finally takes note of your silence, peeking down at you to ask "uh...you okay?"
"Oh my god....Holy shit, ghost." You reply, then pause when you realize your voice sounds different now, the cum literally coating your throat. "That was....so much fucking cum. Ghost what the hell."
You shift, and nearly pass out when you realize you can feel the cum in your stomach, like after eating a bit too much food. Oh. Oh you like that.
"Sorry?" Ghost tilts his head, unsure.
"Ghost, I don't care what plans you have, we're going to your barracks now. I need to see that again." You grab him by the tac vest and begin dragging ghost down the hall.
Ghost's voice sounds only a bit scared when he responds "yes sergeant."
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