Author's Note: I got a little carried away with this one, but I find it quite enjoyable and I hope you do too! This hasn't been proofread so apologies for any SPaG errors in advance :) Also, couldn't find a size kink GIF I liked, so there's another Jotun!Loki GIF at the bottom!!
Youβd been curious for a while now. It started off innocently enough, as most things do. After spending enough time around Thor, you learn to be outspoken, so even weird requests seemed to come naturally. Just a simple utterance of βHow much bigger isyour hand than mine?!β came from you one day, on some distant planet whose name you forgot, during one of the fine prince of Asgardβs expansive parties. Loki merely laughed; he was more than happy to comply to your request, of course.
Your hand, fingers spread so far they ached, fit snugly into the dip of his palm, finger tips brushing the upper pads. You remember feeling your eyes widen, looking meekly up from your joined hands to his face, where he smirked back down at you, cocking an eyebrow up. βWell? What did you expect? You Asgardians are so...small, after all,β He taunted, letting out a chuckle and covering his mouth with the back of his hand at your precious little pout. The blue hand against yours dropped down and took your jaw within its fingers, pinching just enough to squish your face into a more exaggerated pout, silencing any complaints in the process. βAnd such sour beings you are when confronted with your own short fallings. Adorable,β
You enjoyed that far more than you cared to admit.
The second time was only a little less innocent than the first. Another party, way too much to drink. Youβd spoken to him as often as you could throughout the party, warped mind deciding this would be the night you pulled. It wasnβt. You ended up half conscious and slung over his arm β literally, you were laying hung over it at one point, his other hand supporting your head. The next few hours were a blur, but you remembered waking up what you guessed was around 4am. Your body was sprawled, laid over his lap, with his limp arm beside him and his hand serving as a pillow for your head. You stretched and squirmed, not really processing your placement until you heard him let out a sleep-addled groan. When you rolled onto your back and felt something supporting the dip of it that most definitelywasnβt that sturdy before, you decided it was best to let yourself rest once more. How were you to know he saw how you grew flustered at the βproblemβ you caused, peering down at you through the one eye he cracked open when he first felt you stir?
The third time- oh who are we kidding? It was as far from innocent as you can get. This time, Loki had visited Asgard from Jotunheim without the promise of a party β instead, there was some business being decided between the two realm and he decided to tag along. He began the search for your sweet self as soon as theyβd arrived, defecting from his friends like they were nothing. You were far more important. He found you through Thorβs guidance, lounging in your chambers after a bout of heatstroke. You didnβt even hear him enter, you just sensed a shadow over you as you sprawled on the chaise lounge by your window, soft breeze tickling your skin. You let out a grunt of dissatisfaction, only to gasp out when you heard that familiar chuckle, dropping your hand from your forehead and turning to face the towering man.
βLoki! I wasnβt expecting you!β You exclaimed, pushing yourself up onto your hands. Only, you were met with two fingers on your stomach before you could get any further, his larger form holding you still with little effort. βDonβt trouble yourself, darling,β He speaks smoothly, rendering you speechless as you gaze up at him, lips slightly parted, βActually, I have an idea; Iβll give you something more comfortable to lay on,β It wasnβt a suggestion so much as a request β permission to allow him to carry out this desire he had. You offered a slow nod in response, only to take in a deep breath in when you found yourself lifted into his hand and drawn back to his chest, head laying just below his collarbone as you stared up at him. You released your breath slowly as the giant settled down onto the seat, which let out a groan at its sudden overloaded capacity. You made a mental note to get your furniture stabilised to hold his mass, you wanted no excuses to not have him in your presence more often. He propped himself up loosely, sat at an odd angle that prompted a concerned look that he immediately dismissed, his legs bent and hanging over the bottom edge of your lounge.
βHow does this serve you, love?β He murmured against the side of your head, the intimacy of the moment prompting you to swallow thickly. You looked down at your form, dwarfed as you rested on him, your toes barely reaching halfway down his thighs. βWell,β You sighed softly in response, relaxing muscles you werenβt even aware youβd tensed, your form going slack atop his as your head lolled into the dip of his neck. He let out a calm sigh of his own, one hand coming to rest over your stomach, his fingers and heel of his hand sitting either side of your hips. He brushed his free fingers gently along your neck and the side of your face, your eyes fluttering pleasantly as a response. And then, his touch seemed to disappear, prompting your eyes to flip open.
A pitched and goblet of wine and a bowl of berries and grapes had been sat on your window ledge, which Loki now seemed to be eagerly reaching towards. βThirsty, little one?β He almost cooed, smiling when he felt the slow nod of your head against his skin. For someone so large, he was meticulously skilled in using smaller appliances, managing to fill the goblet and lift it to your lips with such delicacy you doubted even you could replicate it. The wine poured into your mouth with ease, spreading a fuzzy warmth through your throat and down into the rest of your body. It felt nice, soothing...speaking of soothing, Loki had begun murmuring sweet nothings into your ear. Or, you presumed they were sweet nothings β he was speaking in a tongue you couldnβt translate, your brain melting around his soft words.
This went on for some time; you sprawled against him, feeling like you were sinking into his blue chest as he slipped wine and (rather squished) berries down your throat. All the while, foreign words were whispered into your ear, wrapping around your brain and reducing it to a relaxed mush. You swore you couldβve stayed that way for hours- hell, maybe you did, you honestly couldnβt tell. Time seemed to slow, almost halt, with only the wisp of the curtain in the light breeze reminding you that infinity marched on. Yet, finally, you spoke. βWhat...What are you saying?β You asked quietly, staring up at the ceiling as you had been for the past...however long youβd been there. There was a pause before you heard Loki set down the goblet and move his hand back to the side of your head, pressing his index finger to your temple. You spy a flash of blue in the corner of your eye when everything suddenly falls into place.
And my, oh my, is it an interesting puzzle your mind had formed.
βUnderstand now, little one?β Loki coos in that same tongue, but one you now comprehend. His words from before now swirl in your mind, almost suffocating you with their weight. βThis wine dripping down your throat makes me desperate to stretch it out and fill you with meβ and βSo small and dainty, how Iβd love to ruin you my dearβ are particular favourites that spring to mind; they quicken your breathing and make your eyes blow wide. Your mouth useless trembles in utter shock, cheeks warming as broken stutters leave you. Even when you feel his fingers creep down and close your jaw with a chuckle, youβre still stumbling to comprehend whatβs happening. He tilts your head up, eyes meeting your own with just as bright a sheen of desire as in your own. His fingers, only two managing to fit beneath your chin, spread out, one caressing your throat as you swallow once more, prompting him to smirk.
βSo, what do you say, darling? Care to test the waters as my littleβ¦cock sleeve?β
Summary: Sylvie figures out something quite interesting whilst making out with her partner
β οΈContent: NSFW; making out, soft knife play, slight D/S dynamics. NSFW(?) GIF under the cut.
Author's Note: This one is quite short, but I hope it still appeals! :)
Itβs the chill that starts things off. You have no idea what it is, but you feel a flash of cold against your torso as she presses against your body. Lips locked tightly and her hands gripping your upper arms like youβll phase away if she dares to loosen her hold. Your legs spread to be in line with your shoulders, just wide enough for her slim build to slip between them. The icy spike comes from where the blade in its holster on her belt has brushed against your stomach, over the inch of midriff showing where your shirt has risen throughout your frisky affair. You gasp out against Sylvieβs lips and she pulled back, blonde whisps tickling your jaw as she looked straight through your eyes, into your soul.
βNow what was that, darling?β The woman cooed, eyes sweeping over your form as her tongue swept out to wet her lips. On instinct, you glanced down, eyes catching the bright gleam of the blade. And, on instinct, her gaze followed yours. βThis?β She hummed, reaching down and slipping the dagger from its home, lifting it between the two of you. Held upright, the tip now rested just on your chest. Eyes blown wide, you nodded stiffly, drawing a smirk to the blondeβs face. βI had no idea youβd be so enamoured by such...trinkets,β She admitted thoughtfully, stare curious as she traced the flat side of the blade in swishes down your chest, coming to press the edge at the base of your ribcage.
Your breathing hitched in the back of your throat. There was almost no pressure, especially not through clothing, but knowing you were so close to such a threat...well, you enjoyed it more than you cared to admit. Sylvieβs eyes glistened with intrigue. βAh,β She breathed out, cocking her head to one side as she focused in on your doe-like eyes, your warm cheeks and lips, parted just far enough to let out increasingly-heavy breaths. βSo thatβs why youβre interested...you little minx,β She taunted, raising a brow.
Naturally, you opened your mouth to respond. Be it to be snarky or to shyly ask what she was doing; you couldnβt remember and it didnβt matter. Before a word can be spoke, the pressure of the blade against your stomach increases, a whimper leaving your throat and dying out as your lips seal once more. The knife trails down, point drawing a line down to your stomach, before slipping up under the hem of your shirt. A soft gasp escapes you, body pressing further into the wall behind you. Sylvieβs smirk threatens to widen. βSuch a sweet sound, love,β She coos, glancing up to meet those widened eyes of yours as she trails the blade under your clothes.
βThings just got a lot more entertaining for us~β
