A retired writer (kirawritesaboutevanstan) just enjoying the good content. Current interests include:
Gwynriel, Acotar, Gale Dekarios/Astarion/Raphael, BG3, Frankenstein, Nosferatu, Books/Romantasy/Fantasy, Bucky/Marvel and much more ...
If you want to read my old Marvel stuff (it's lowkey shit) here's the link
Something I can't stop thinking about with Gwynriel is that I want nothing more than for them to fall in love prior to the bond, like I want it to be a "oh of course it's you, I'm so happy we chose right" moment instead of the ones we've had before with Nessian and Feysand.
I want them to fall in love, slowly over time. Little moments, pinkies touching, lingering stares, them both shrugging it off to being "we're just friends" to them falling in love, Az realising he didn't need a mate to be loved. And once he "let's go" of that idea, as much as he can, that's when I snaps. Like i don't need him to not want a mate, but I just love the idea that the obsession he has and that driving need/desire to have a mate, is the thing that holds him back and then he slowly learns to just be with Gwyn. He's got some healing to do and I doubt he will get a mate until he does that.
Both were just too blind to see it for so long, he starts to heal some of his inner demons. She does too. They help each other, not saving each other but just by choosing each other. She sees him and he sees her and ugh. And that's the happy part. I want them together so bad.
Shadowsinger and Valkyrie. I think that's pretty neat.
I like Elain, do not get me wrong. I want her happiness I just don't think it's sort Az. I think he needs something else, I can only imagine her in the spring court. Surrounded by flowers, sunlight and all of that. Lucien fits that. And this fucking guy deserves some goddamn sunshine too and some love.
Warnings: heavy smut, 18+, unprotected sex, oral sex (F receiving), overstimulation, and pretty much being at the mercy of the God of Mischief!
For the first time in a while, you had the training room to yourself which was highly unusual for this time of day. After doing a few minutes on the treadmill to warm up, you had been doing a few rounds on the punching bag when you felt him watching you. In the mirror, you locked eyes with the picture of perfection leaning against the doorway.
"There wasn’t a single moment where he could forget how fragile you were. How different your life span was compared to his —he wanted to give you all of his enormity, all of the years that wore too big on his bland and heavy life.
He couldn’t keep you by his side forever".
Pairing/s: Loki x reader, Bucky x reader
There's 2 alternative endings, a "choose your own adventure" kind of thing.
<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>
Warnings: angst. God, believe me, this is so fucking sad. Sorry about that. Some fluff, implied smut, Odin and Frigga's A+ parenting (/s). Thor being a little bitch. Reader not wanting kids.
Total word count: 16,3K (this was supposed to be an oneshot???)
Chapter word count: 4,6K
1
If you had to choose the best outcome from working with the Avengers (or, more specifically, under the economic decisions of Tony Stark), it had to be the hotels he chose for the team on the missions.
The rooms were always a bliss —you would’ve never gone to such fancy places if it were up to you. You didn’t think it was worth the money at all, and you didn’t fit into the overpriced lifestyle of those who loved the five-stars everything.
But your work was something you had to do, and, let’s say the comfortable beds, big bathrooms and incredibly talented chefs making your breakfast wasn’t something you had to work hard for you to enjoy.
And now, as your sore muscles ached and your fogged head went everywhere and anywhere, you thanked greatly to be able to be there that night. Peaceful. Tranquility washing over your back in the form of drops of water.
The mirror was covered with steam and a curtain blocked your way, but you still noticed the tall figure of Loki peeping in. You heard his clothes being dropped on the floor and you kept on putting soap over your shoulders, as if he wasn’t there. You were so, so tired, you didn’t even realize that the shower was a little bit too hot for your lover. It even was too hot for you, too.
“Damn”, he gasped as he flinched away from the water. You woke up from your daydreaming and immediately turned the cold water on. The mixture of them formed a perfectly tepid temperature you both could tolerate. You learnt the hard way Loki showered on such cold water your lips would turn blue. “You alright, dear?”, he asked from behind you.
“Yeah, a little tired, not more”.
“You need some rest, take the day off tomorrow, would you?”, he purred on your ear with his hands on your shoulders, giving you a soft massage. His hands moved up to your hair, and he soon began cleaning it himself. He loved to do that for you, and you loved to feel his long fingers caress your scalp, the soap running down your body, the shampoo smell staining his own skin and leaving the shower smelling the same.
“I have to finish this mission up”, you mumbled. “But once we’re back to the compound you bet we’re taking a day off together. You must be tired too”.
“Not that much, but I can’t deny a day off with you”, you felt him smile, even though you weren’t facing him. You knew how and when he smiled; you memorized the curve of his lips and every situation it would curve. His smile did things to you. “You know I don’t get tired off of these things”.
“Yeah, it’s almost like you’re a God or something”.
You both laughed softly. He gently pulled your head back and cleaned off the shampoo. He kissed your temples, all the way down to the nape of your neck, and kept kissing each protuberance of the spine, bone by bone, as if missing one would make it feel left out. As if every inch of you, every single bit of you, deserved the same praise and the same love —it did. He made sure you knew that.
“It’ll be all over soon”, he promised in a whisper. You sighed.
“Don’t worry, my love. It will pay off”, you assured him. You turned around to face his furrowed brows. Standing in your tiptoes, you reached his forehead and planted a kiss where his frown disappeared as if by magic. “Now it’s my turn to wash your hair”. He smiled and kneeled before you, so you could reach his head.
You shampooed and conditioned his hair slowly and silently. He closed his eyes, not letting you know he was overthinking about everything he was making you do, and how much he appreciated you doing it.
“You know…”, he murmured, his deep voice almost getting mistaken by a groan if it weren’t for the clearly spoken words, “we could stop all of this, if you see it… surpassing your limitations”.
He opened his eyes and raised his head to meet yours. Those puppy eyes of his. You scoffed.
“Limitations?”, you cocked an eyebrow and smirked teasingly.
He laughed and rolled his eyes.
“You know you’re a weakie”, he said jokingly, emphasizing on how bad that word described you at his gaze. “Now, seriously. I’m aware it’s a lot. A lot, lot”.
“Love, you don’t have to keep worrying about it. I accepted because I love you so, so much. Some even could say too much”, you caressed the back of his head and sank your fingers in between the curled strands. “I may not agree with it ideologically, but I can make a little sacrifice if that means being with you for the rest of my life. And, for the record, it’s not as much as you think”.
He didn’t say anything else to that. He simply smiled again, pressed lips in the tiniest curve, as if repressing it would make it last longer, and let you wash the conditioner off him.
You could do very well with a day off, though. Between the missions that seemed to never stop and only get worse week by week, and the infinite amount of trials you had to go through by the Asgardian royals, you thought you may pass out any time soon.
The trials… ah, the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to do in your life. And that was not little to say, for you had fought freaking aliens and helped supersoldier’s wounds to heal in a matter of seconds with Stark’s subdermic nanotech.
Loki had a possibility, a chance to have everything he ever wanted to have, and he could’ve taken it. They said ‘you can have the throne now’, as if it had always been that easy, and he didn’t take it right away, as if it hadn’t been the thing he most wanted.
“The thing I most want, little darling, is you”, he told you when he explained what had happened.
And you swore he was about to propose —he almost took off a damn ring off his pocket. But he didn’t, and instead, he related carefully and detailedly what had to happen before he could marry you, if he were to get the throne. You had to show your in-laws you were a good companion for the King.
And that sucked. Why did it matter so much? You loved him and he loved you, and he was going to be a great King. That was all that mattered for both of you. But the conditions were very clear, and had no room for argument. And you wouldn’t let Loki give up his unfulfilled wish to rule the realms, nor would he give it up now that he had the chance.
So there you were, balancing between the missions and the trials. Which were very sexist, in fact. Who would’ve thought royals and Gods would be so conservative? You laughed. They varied between many housekeeping duties, archery, Asgard’s history, a lot of politics, the cooking and baking of different Asgardian treats, and a lot of those idiotic kind of trainings of putting books over your head and walking in heels. They said they had to transform an avenger into royalty, and you almost laughed in their face. Loki did.
It was impossible you'd ever actually become who they wanted you to change into. A submissive and silent companion, not possessing any other ability than smiling politely and attending your husband's needs? You were so incredibly far from even being like that, that not even Strange could see a reality in where you'd do it.
But you could pretend. You passed the first dozen trials, and passed them well. Odin had started growing a certain liking to your attitude, much unlike Frigga, who was increasingly repulsed by it. She was trying her best in transforming you, a lost cause in her eyes, into whatever she found fitting to accompany her younger son.
"Your mother's idea of a 'good' partner is very different from mine", you said over a glass of wine, waiting for dinner to finish cooking. Loki was sitting over the counter reading a book. He closed it over his lap and marked the page with a wooden spoon that was on handy.
"Mine too", he sighed. "She doesn't see that you already are perfect".
"I don't think she'd see me with your eyes".
"You must remember she was raised to be the princess that would someday marry Odin. She has no other view of marriage than… changing the true self. Much as she taught me shapeshifting, we have all learnt different ways to hide underneath a veil of lies and deceiving".
You took in his sincere words and went back to silence for a while. He didn't go back to his book, instead, he looked at you. He wanted to know what you were thinking about, but asking felt like an intrusion of some sort. You looked back at him, an invitation to ask. He then asked,
"How do you feel about it?".
You nodded with no reason to nod. Pressed your lips in a line, a smile that wouldn't form just yet. Not for this.
"I sincerely don't know", you finally said. He hummed. "I love you, that's all I know. My perception of marriage doesn't mean giving everything and everyone up. But again, in my perception of marriage I never thought I would actually marry a prince. I know this is how it is. I know this is what has to be done".
"It doesn't", he jumped off the counter and surrounded your waist with his arms, resting his head on your shoulder. "Love, this can be solved. I don't want you to resign everything and everyone. This is not how it has to go if you don't like it. Say the word. Say the word and…", he sighed.
"And you'll resign your everything and everyone?", you chuckled.
"You're my everything and everyone, I wouldn't be resigning anything I don't already have".
"Liar. You want this", you said almost in a whisper. Turning around to face him, you cupped his face and kissed his chin. "You can have it. I'm sorry, I don't want you to feel guilty".
"I have reasons to feel that way".
"I'm just being dramatic".
"You're not".
"I really am", you assured him. Love sometimes was protecting him from your thoughts. Love sometimes was waking up from a nightmare where he died and not telling him about it. Love sometimes was not worrying him and lying. Or was it? Were you protecting him or were you creating a demon? "This is your big chance. Do I have a big chance here? I don't. My big chance so far has been being by your side. You make me blindly happy. I don't care if I have to change some things to please your parents, we both know I wouldn't actually change. We can see underneath the acting. You know me".
"I know you enough…", he started saying, with no need to finish it. I know you enough to know you don't want this.
"Let's have dinner", you smiled, and he kissed your forehead.
Love sometimes was accepting, he thought. Accepting you didn't want to talk about it that much. Love sometimes was sharing time. Sharing that glass of wine while sharing moments in the kitchen. Sharing the dinner you cooked together. Sharing time. Sharing. And this… Loki knew he wasn't sharing. He was taking his chance and making you go through it without you wanting it. But you shared —your life, your motivations, your fears, most of your thoughts. And you shared your thoughts about it, yet he could sense that wasn't all. You were keeping some worries to yourself, and that was what preoccupied him the most.
In the training room, you avoided Thor’s blasts and threw your daggers, trying to practice over the little things the Queen had taught you. Loki observed from afar, not wanting to distract you. He stared proudly, knowing who he was going to marry. It was not bad at all.
You had started liking that part of the training. You catched interest for Asgard’s history, politics, and the trainings of archery and dagger-fighting. You grew fonder of the idea of living in his Palace, and, to him, nothing sounded better than you calling him my King in front of everyone. But, whatever would come for the future, would come brightly.
You weren’t closer with Thor than with any other Avenger. And you weren’t exactly friends with anyone. You got along pretty well. Tony Stark liked your fierce personality, and laughed at the contrast between your bitterness in the field to your kind essence in any other situation.
Steve Rogers constantly pointed out how hilarious it was that someone like you would end up with someone like Loki. Both took it personal —Loki thought it was an offence to him, “how could someone as caring and sweet as you end up with that mass murderer”. You thought it was an offence to you, “how could someone as dull and incompetent as you end up with a literal God”.
Natasha Romanoff… She didn’t talk much. But, unlike James, she didn’t even try to communicate. James was interesting, and you were sure you would call him a friend, someday. He wasn’t very talkative, but he was always there. Always laughed at your jokes. He memorized your coffee order. He liked the same shows you did and watched them with you, in silence. He was quiet, but his actions spoke to you much more than any other Avenger. Although, James “Bucky” Barnes, was not an Avenger. Much like Loki. He was just there, he was always helping.
“How are the trials?”, asked Thor, avoiding one of your daggers without much effort. You weren’t actually good at it. Thor had learnt to avoid them for the last thousand years.
“I have a week left, and then it’s done. I think I’m doing pretty good”, you said, hiding your exhaustion. Thor was barely moving and you couldn’t catch up to him as much as you tried. He laughed when you fell, and helped you up, only to blast you again with a tiny electric wave, that at that point you felt no more than a tingling sensation.
“My son”, heard Loki from behind him. He turned around and made a small reverence to her. She smiled and stood by his side, observing you too. “I see their determination”.
“Nothing better for a King’s companion, yes?”, he said, proud dripping off his words. Frigga rolled her eyes and nodded. She wasn’t amused that Loki, from all the choices he had, had chosen a dull midgardian to follow him for less than a century. And then he’d had to choose again. Hopefully, someone who would live longer than a damn heartbeat.
“We ought to have a little talk, boy”, she finally said, and Loki’s heart tightened with nervousness. Very few people managed to get him that nervous over a couple of words. “Join me to a more… private space”.
They walked in silence until his room seemed like the best option. Room was a formal way to call it, for it was huge as an apartment. You both had managed to make a standardized-looking studio apartment into a cozy space, decorated with care and dedication. It was obvious Loki’s good taste and your inherent warmth had a big role on the decorations.
Frigga roamed around the room, observing the hung pictures and passing a finger through the white Christmas lights. She stopped at a particular photograph of Loki and you ice skating. He was carrying you as if you were a feather-weight doll, your seemingly cold hands wrapping his blue neck. Frigga stared at the actions developing at that moment. Under your cold touch, he was half transformed in his Jötun form, completely comfortable. You looked at his eyes with a glimmer that Frigga knew it to be the same Loki looked at you with. You were both laughing, and he seemed to have carried you up bridal style only to tease you into throwing you into a snow pile.
“Mother?”, Loki pulled her off of her thoughts. She turned around. “You wished to talk about something”.
“You seem… in love”, she murmured under a confusing expression. Despite Loki’s perceptiveness, he couldn’t figure out if his mother was repressing a smile or holding back a frown of sadness. Perhaps both.
“I am, mother”, he admitted, appearing a mug of tea in her hand and inviting her to sit on one of the couches. “If I must be sincere with you, as I always have been, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way for anyone”.
“For a mortal, Loki…”, she sighed and sipped her tea. “You know what will happen now. You’re so… attached”.
“As attached as you are to Father, not as one is to a puppy pet”, he clarified.
“But much more like a puppy pet, they’ll live less than a quarter of your life. Much less. In fact, you’ll blink twice and you’ll be by an empty space on your bed, my dear”.
“I certainly hope you’re getting to a point here”, he scoffed. He’s had this conversation countless times before, and his mother never gave in.
“There is this last thing in the trials…”, she said, raising her eyebrows and getting up to pace around the room once again, barely watching over the decens of good moments in pictures you had displayed on the wall. “One thing that has to be surely not optional”.
Loki sipped on his own tea, looking out the window. He watched the spider boy try the man of iron’s flying boots and crush against a window. It was a much better thing to have his mind on, than in what his mother had just implied.
He didn’t realize it, but a few tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and he had to swallow harder to speak his mind. The implication alone of what that meant… he knew all of this would crumble under his touch. Sooner or later, he would have to make a choice, and he’d choose the wrong thing.
Both options were the wrong thing. There was no way out. There was no right path to follow.
“There has to be a way out of this question. Of this decision”, he hurried. His mother chuckled.
“Given your reaction, son, it doesn’t sound like there’s much to decide. It’s an answered question, and we all know it”.
“Yet you thought it wise to pull them through all of these trials, all of these…”, his lips trembled, and he had to stop to take a breath. “To rouse us with the illusion of the better life we always dreamed of?”.
“I had warned you about it, Loki. There is no us in your daydream for the throne. And much less with a short-lived being such as a midgardian. I had warned you”, she repeated, and rage boiled on Loki’s veins.
“Why is it that everytime I get a glimpse of what a good future could look like, it gets destroyed before it arrives?!”, he lost his temper, raising his voice. The tea fell to the carpeted floor and he didn’t even look at it. Frigga didn’t flinch, and walked closer to him. She gave him an arm-length grab on his shoulders that was supposed to calm him down.
“Hush, little boy… this is for…”, she tried to soothe the wound she opened, but he interrupted her before she could say anything else.
“For my own good? Were you going to say that, Frigga?”, he hissed. His mother dropped the arms. She didn’t like when he called her by name. It implied things he had implied before, and were no less true than what he felt like. Apart. Away. “And must I remind you I’m not a little boy you need to protect and make decisions for? This is ridiculous. I’m given, once again, the illusion of the choice”.
“Oh, Loki, when have I ever given you a golden apple you couldn’t actually reach?”, she folded her arms, furrowing her brows. “I’ve taught you magic so you could be unstoppable. I’ve raised you equally, despite your roots. I’ve…”, she enlisted, and Loki’s chest hurt so tightly he thought he’d finally die. He couldn’t speak. “I’ve left everything to your reach. Your arm just wasn’t long enough. You could’ve stretched it further, yet you decided to go for another apple, and that, my son, is not our fault”.
Loki sat on the floor, and she stayed standing. The height difference that would always make her look up at him was now gone, dissolved as the confidence Loki had gathered in the past few years he’s been living in Midgard, away from all of those words. Away from what he considered at some point, the truth. And you weren’t there to hug him and squeeze the lies away —it wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, he repeated himself like a machine. It wasn’t true, although it felt so much like it.
“Loki? You haven’t said a word in…”, she began saying, rotting her patience of steel.
“What would you like me to say?”, he asked, blinking some tears away. He got up, not letting her see how much smaller he felt now. Words are just words. “Perhaps you could facilitate me with a script, so I would never wrong my path again, yes?”, he spat sarcastically.
“Oh, son. You musn’t…”.
“Take this personally, I’m aware. Now, if you excuse me, my beloved will come from training any time soon now, and it would be very unpleasant for you to come across them and have to greet them, right? So I’d suggest we wrap up our little chat and you go… Queen around”.
“Now, you’re being just rude. I wouldn’t wish you to fail in anything”.
“I’ve never said that. You said that I’m just too… incompetent to reach, the apples, was it? Were you talking about Iduna’s or was it a metaphor for all the things you’ve taken from me?”.
“You’re putting words in my mouth”.
“You’re right. You’ve never taken anything from me. You’ve never given them in the first place. You’ve only put them near, so I could want them enough, and then give them to your real son”.
“You’re my son, too. You’re a real son, too, Loki”, she extended her palms for him to grab, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned around.
“Excuse me. I must have misunderstood”.
“You certainly did”.
“Perhaps it’s because I live in a world of illusions, and I’m forgetting what’s real and what’s not”.
She nodded, hiding impatience. Without saying another word, she teleported away, disappearing behind a veil of yellow lights, like a flame surrounding and consuming her.
Loki dropped to the floor again, and inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled, inhaled…
“Love?”, you asked, dropping your water bottle on the table without unlocking your eyes from him. You kneeled next to him immediately. “Love, what’s happening? Are you bad?”.
If he wasn’t in such a state, he would’ve laughed at the comparison of what caring for the other meant in your eyes and his family’s.
He didn’t let you see his face —torn apart, wet with cold tears that solidified to the touch of his skin, the blue form that couldn’t hide when he was too upset, or too broken, like he was right then.
He sank in your arms, hugging you as tightly as he allowed himself to. Grasping for your touch, for you to never leave him, for your soul to never leave your body and stay with him for the rest of his life.
His mother was right, he thought. He was all she said he was, and that hurt him. But it stung him even more when he knew how right she was about his short-lived being beloved. He was going to pull away from your hug and you would take a few more breaths, and that was it. And your worried face, frowning your expression as you couldn’t see what had taken over his lover this time, would become cold as marble.
“Please, please—I can’t live without you, not like this—not anymore”, he sobbed over your neck, sinking deeper into the embrace you would oh so tightly hold and hold —you wouldn’t let him go, not ever, not if you had the chance to. And Loki knew you would actually do it. He’d lose you because you would never agree to that, and with good reason.
“You don’t have to, I’m not leaving. I’m here, Loki. I’m here, love, and you’re alright. Deep breaths, breathe with me, love, come, breathe with me”, you helped him calm down, rubbing big circles on his back, your palms open and warm trying to cover the immensity of him compared to you.
There wasn’t a single moment where he could forget how fragile you were. How different your life span was compared to his —he wanted to give you all of his enormity, all of the years that wore too big on his bland and heavy life.
He couldn’t keep you by his side forever.
He could, on the other hand, keep you as far as he could manage to.
He was already stable, now. You cuddled him on the couch, weighted blanket surrounding his body, a few ice cubes inside a bag for his forehead and neck —you knew it would always make him feel less pushed, keeping his Aesir form costed an extra amount of energy he sometimes couldn’t handle to bare— and your hand kept brushing his hair, braiding it, letting him know he was safe.
He opened his eyes and there you were —an angel, a healer caring for his wounds. He sighed at your sight, and embarrassed himself for even thinking about it. No, no. Of course he would choose you. He would never choose the throne if he had to give you up. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
He raised a hand to cup your cheek.
“I’m sorry”, he whispered.
“Don’t be”, you assured.
“I… I have to ask”.
“Tell me”.
And so he asked,
“Would you, ever, at any given point of your life, want to have a child with me?”.
You stayed silent. You looked at him, every bit of his face, every expression that would tell you what he was actually thinking about. Why was he asking this now? After all of this? He knew the answer, why would he bring it up again?
And then it hit you.
“Your Mother was here”, you lowered your gaze. Your legs started bouncing.
“She was”.
“This is a condition”.
“It is”.
“Heir”.
“Not more and not less”.
“What will we do?”, you asked, raising your eyebrows. As you looked for Loki’s eyes to be wet, to have any emotion of regret, they weren’t. He was hiding them very well.
“We will stay here. No more trials. No more boring royal things for you to learn”.
“This can’t be possible”, you frowned in concern. “Loki, this is the thing you most want. You can’t give it up for this”.
“For what? For being with the love of my life? I certainly can and will”, he smiled. It was a sad smile, you noticed. His eyes couldn’t hide what his lips tried to. He noticed you didn’t believe him. “We’ve talked about this over and over. I will bargain more. But as for now, I can see the most likely option will be this one. I propose we get comfortable. You once talked about a house by the mountains and cats, right?”.
“Don’t change the topic, mister”, you frowned and he laughed. You hugged him tightly, and murmured in his ear “are you sure you want this?”.
I heard Tom hiddleston read the “may I feel said he” poem and I fucking had to write a fic based off it. So this fic is going to be written in third person using each line of the poem.
So yeah Loki x reader smut
•••
“May I feel?” Loki asked, fingers hovering before the dripping folds of his beloved Mortal.
“I’ll squeal” said she, face flushing red with embarrassment.
“Just once” said he, leaning forward to nip her ear. She squirmed, feeling his fingers brush her wet folds, bucking when he found her clit. Loki looked up at her, concerned.
“It’s fun” said she, giving him a nod of reassurance that she was not in pain. Loki lay the beautiful woman down on the bed, kissing a trail down to her breasts.
“May I touch?” Said he, resting his chin between he sensual mounds.
“How much?” Said she, locking eyes with the god of mischief.
“A lot” said he, purring against her soft pale skin.
“Why not” said she after a moment of hesitation. With that confirmation Loki bit and sucked the skin of her breasts, biting and flicking the sensitive nubs with his tongue. She moaned growing ever wetter beneath him.
“Let’s go” said he, growling in her ear and lining himself up with her entrance.
“Not to far” said she, panicking at the thought of what his thick cock might do to her without any preparation.
“What’s to far?” Said he, cocking his head to the side in confusion.
“Where you are” said she, her face growing red in embarrassment. Loki understood what she meant, leaning down to gently kiss her before slowly slipping himself inside her. She grit her teeth, clawing into his back.
“May I stay?” Said he, looking at the pained expression of his beloved. He considered pulling out but he wanted to hear her response first. 
“Which way?” Said she, through grit teeth. The pain slowly beginning to melt into pleasure.
“Like this” said he, ever so slightly thrusting his hips, earning a moan of pleasure from Her soft tender lips.
“If you kiss” said she, Loki happily granted her request and locked lips with hers.
“May I move?” Said he, fighting the urge to claim the beautiful woman and paint her walls with his seed.
“Is it love?” Said she, gazing into the deep hazel eyes of the handsome man.
“If your willing” said he nuzzling his face into her neck and wrapping his arms around her shoulders
“But your killing” said she, wincing as Loki picked her up and sat her in his lap, cock still stretching her walls.
“But it’s life” said he, biting her earlobe and gripping her hips.
“But your wife” said she, making her way to his neck, and sucking a dark hickey into his skin.
“Now” said he, taking the love bite as a sign she was ready and thrusting up into her.
“Ow” said she, digging her fingers into his shoulder. He took the hint laying her down once more and placing her legs on his broad shoulders.
“Tick toc” said he, fighting the urge to cum as he squeezed her thighs.
“Don’t stop” said she, eyes fluttering and voice turning breathy.
“Oh no” said he, feeling the wave of pleasure threatening to crash over him as he ruthlessly pounded into her.
“Go slow” said she, gently rubbing her thumb against his cheek.
“C-cum” said he, feeling her walls tighten and flutter around his throbbing cock
“Um” said she, arching her back off the bed as she felt his seed filling her, triggering her own orgasm as well.
“Your divine” said he, panting and rolling over to lay on the bed beside her. Loki cupped her face, tracing her cheek bone with his thumb.
“You are mine” said she, running her thumb along the dark hickey blooming on his neck, a mischievous smile gracing her lips.
summary: it’s the 70′s and the erotic videos industry is experiencing another boom after the risen popularity in the previous decade. the studio’s are hot, gemini flanagan is a brand, and you’re a newly hired assistant at shaggin’ studios. chris takes a liking to you, altering your job description so that you get to work more closely with him. is this all just physical, or is there something more?
pairing: 70′s pornstar!chris evans x black!reader (all may read!!)
warnings: nsfw smut, the porn industry, substance use, fluff, angst; things will be tagged per chapter!
Summary: You broke up seven months ago, and moving on was as easy as teaching someone how to drive stick shift. You live in his mind as much as he lives in yours, and perhaps some things are worth reconsidering.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.7k
Warnings: angst (it’s light), nsfw smut, exes to lovers trope, passionate sex, porn with plot, sex without a condom (be responsible, guys), cursing, mentions of a break-up, mentions of alcohol, oral (m/f receiving)
One in the steaming hot afternoon found you at the pool of the house, it had become your favourite place in the last forty-five minutes under this sweltering heat that you had cooled down from when you had gotten into the pool, the water cooling you down immediately.
“Back at the pool huh?” You looked up to see Sebastian who shot you a smirk as you shrugged, bringing the iced lolly that you had found in the freezer to your lips, your eyes fixed on his as you swirled your tongue around the cool dessert, tilting your head ever so innocently and you had to admit watching Sebastian stare at you, his cerulean blue eyes darkening with lust was exhilarating.
The brunette sported a simple loose white shirt that flittered around his hips as the gentle breeze went by and the loose sweatpants that he had hanging on his hips made you lick your lips as you bought the dessert deeper into your mouth, a small smirk playing on your lips as you watched Sebastian clench his jaw, a sense of satisfaction washing over you as his eyes narrowed.
“It’s too hot to stay inside”. You tease and the brunette almost groan out loud, the number of times he had imagined you moaning his name just like that would be the death of him, the way his name rolled off your tongue so perfectly sent every sinful thought that he ever had of you into his head.
It was close to impossible for Sebastian to get the way you looked in that dress out of his head, every sway of your hips pulled him closer to you, each time you bit down on those soft lips of yours made him want to crash his lips onto yours, and every time you looked towards him with those gorgeously, innocent eyes of yours could make his heart beat just a little faster, something he never experienced before except when he was with you that is.
“What do you think I should do?” Sebastian asked, his eyes fixed on you as he watched your lips surround that iced lolly, your tongue swirling around it and all he could imagine how good it would feel to have your lips around his cock, you continued with your antics, taking the dessert past your lips once more and the brunette swore he was simply an inch away from bending you over the edge of the pool, but what was he to do when all you wore was a bikini, standing right there looking like a full course meal?
“Care to join me?” You reply watching as he shrugged, pulling off his shirt, thus confirming your thoughts that his biceps did look twice as good with his shirt off, he easily got into the pool, a small splash following after as he walked in your direction, your heart was thundering in pure anticipation as he came in closer.
“And you’re sure this tastes as good as it looks,” Sebastian says softly, his voice guttural as his fingers easily wrapped around your hand, bringing the cold dessert to his lips, the sugary stickiness staining his lips as he leaned in ever so close, your breath hitching in your throat when he took a bite.
“You should try it ,” Sebastian growls and you couldn’t help but cave in when his lips met yours in a bruising kiss, your heart fluttering when his hands wrapped around your waist pulling you closer as the taste of the sugary dessert was exchanged between your tongues, the dessert was long forgotten when you raked a hand through his hair, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss, every caution that you once held flying out the window when he easily lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips.
“Fuck, I wanna taste you angel”. Sebastian growled, breaking the kiss as he lifted you on to the ledge of the pool, a squeal escaping your lips as he pulled you close.
His lips pressed open mouthed kisses up your exposed thigh as you bite back a moan, the feeling of his lips trailing up your thighs almost drove you mad as you let out an involuntary whimper when he gently pressed his fingers against your clothed clit, your body shivering in pleasure as he teased you over and over again, every kiss, every lingering touch made you crave for more, you could feel him smirk against your skin when you bucked your hips against his hand, the feeling of his fingers rubbing soft circles on your sensitive bud almost pushed you towards orgasm.
“Sebastian, please” You whined, you did not know how much more you could take with the way he was teasing you continuously.
“Patience darling”. Sebastian teased, his fingers hooking into the band of your bikini, sliding it down your legs.
“So wet angel,” Sebastian growled, his arms hooking your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer, making you whimper when he pressed a kiss to your bundle of nerves, his lips brushing against it was enough to send a shiver down your spine, you moan as he pressed his tongue against your clit, your body giving in to him almost immediately as he continued his actions.
You cried out, almost howling when his hot tongue lapped at your folds, his head moving from side to side in any angle possible just so that he could taste every inch of you. Your fingers carded through his hair and gripped tight, pulling him closer to you wanting to feel more of him, your thighs closing in around his head, Sebastian grinned, using his fingers to separate your folds, baring you to him completely.
How he loved seeing your squirm before him, your hips bucking as you whined for more.
“S-sebastian,” you whimpered, feeling his hands tightening around your waist as he pulled you closer, the feeling of the cool air combined with his tongue caressing your clit had you spiralling into an orgasm. His lips wrapping around your bundle of nerves as you buck your hips in anticipation, you gripped the edge of the pool as Sebastian held you tightly with no intention to let you go.
You cry out feeling the familiar coil in your stomach, and you were barely a few seconds away from coming undone when the brunette pulled away, a cocky smirk plastered on his face as he licked his lips that were drenched in your juices.
“Really?” You whine, shooting Sebastian a glare when he chuckled, a teasing smile in his face as he watched you grumble under your breath.
“Ne vedem mai târziu prințesă” (See you later princess)
Imagine reader and Tom being friends for long but not been honest with the strong developed feelings between them two. One day reader calls and asks Tom with help writing a love letter. Mixed with feels, Tom agrees, but after hanging up, he cracks...But later that week, a letter drops in... angsty, feels, fluffy in the end?
A.N.: I loved this request and I hope you enjoy what I made of this 💗✨ I’m not sure if I indeed could put color to my words, but I tried. Let me know what you think! Tbh I was heavily inspired by a love letter from Gerald Durrell to Lee McGeorge, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever read.
Hello! This was requested a long time ago by @free-young-and-in-love… It took me days to write, but I had so much fun! Professor Tom is my ultimate kink, tbh.
Hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: Professor x Student (100% legal, don’t worry), lots of teasing, dirty talk and mentions of sex. Oh, quick mentions of blood, but like… quick. And alcohol.
Summary: What happens after you get drunk and fall into bed with your co-star, Sebastian Stan?
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader
Word Count: 2,471
Warnings: Smut, NSFW, unprotected sex.
It had started as a drunken mistake.
After shooting had wrapped up early because of rain causing some tech issue, you and Sebastian had retreated to your trailer for some drinks. It was still pretty early, so you started slow, the TV playing in the background as you got engrossed in conversation. As afternoon gave way to evening, the alcohol began to flow more freely, the talk turning less funny and more intimate. As time passed,things became more hazy in your brain, and the next thing you remembered was a massive headache and the sunlight filtering in from the trailer window.
You felt a groan get stuck in your throat as you moved your tired limbs, immediately feeling the sheets on your bare skin.
Summary: Sebastian practices all his roles with you. This one is a romantic scene, and you don’t know how to conceal your feelings as just acting when they are so much more.
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader
Word Count: 2,387
A/N: My first Seb fic who knew this day would come lmao tell me what you think pls!
The knock on the door put a huge smile on your face immediately, since you knew exactly who it was. Your phone screen lit up and you rolled your eyes when Sebastian’s name appeared in the notifications, with “OPEN UPPP!!!” as the text message. He had this habit of knocking on the door and texting you when he’d come over, his reason being “what if you have earphones on and don’t hear the knocking?”. No matter how much you made fun of him for doing so, you couldn’t help the giddy grin that spread over your face at how endearing he was.
God, you had it so bad for him. And he had no idea.
summary: it’s a universal truth but it’s worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.
(this was inspired by sebastian’s visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, infidelity, it’s kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, i really like this part because sebastian is so in love but it’s also sad? help
part: 5/6
(other parts)
He was here before. You have done this before. You think of another night, falling asleep next to him and waking up alone, your heart merely broken.
It’s different now.
You open your eyes and it’s early morning, he’s still sleeping and you’re watching him again. From a distance, always from a distance. You’re scared if you go any closer, he’ll wake up and the moment will pass, the days will pass and he’ll be gone. If the world had gone black, you wouldn’t have noticed. You are absorbed in him only. You need to make memories. Now. Before it’s too late. You try to memorize how his breath feels against your skin or the way his chest is moving slowly, but steady. For all his strength and his charm, he looks so fragile. It makes you sad, how beyond you he is.
summary: it’s a universal truth but it’s worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.
(this was inspired by sebastian’s visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
warnings: alcohol, heavy sexual references, implied depression, infidelity, this one is very angsty, it’s kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, this part is not my favorite but it also is
part: 4/6
(other parts)
When you both go to sleep that night,
What you say to yourselves:
It is just a kiss.
The truth:
Sebastian can’t forget your scent and your taste. And it’s everywhere. And it’s everything. He’s not sure if he can breathe anymore. He tries to put himself together but he loses; he lets a moan escape his quivering lips, as he comes hard, alone in bed, your lips a picture in his head.
summary: it’s a universal truth but it’s worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.
(this was inspired by sebastian’s visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, infidelity, it’s kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, this part is full of angst and built up tension,
part: 3/6
(other parts)
Being Sebastian Stan is not a simple thing. Some days it makes him feel like he is only a porcelain face on screen. Nothing more than photographs and rumors. He had once told an interviewer he was scared people would never know the real Sebastian. What he meant was that he was worried he’d wake up one day and the real him would be vanished.
The world would have eaten him alive.
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