A/N: Entry for January Jumble Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles
Prompt: Jan 23rd ‘Naked is the best disguise’
You lay draped over Loki’s chest, his fingers traced idle shapes over your spine, deceptively gentle for someone who’d just fucked you until your thighs shook.
“You’re insufferably smug..” you mumbled against his skin, feeling the lazy rise and fall of his breathing.
“I am insufferable?” his hand sliding lower to cup the curve of your ass. His thumb dipped, teasing your tender entrance, slick with him. “I told you what would happen if you kept lying to me.”
You shivered, hips giving a small, helpless roll into his touch. You couldn’t help yourself.
“I thought you said lying was the most fun you could have with your clothes on,” lifting your head to look at him. “Though you seem to do a very good job of it without any on.”
His mouth curved, eyes flashing that sharp. He squeezed your ass, dragging you up along his body until his cock, still half-hard, slid wetly against your swollen folds. You gasped, fingers curling in his hair.
“Naked is the best disguise,” he murmured. “People see bare skin and think they’re seeing the truth. They forget I am trickery down to the bone.”
He shifted his hips, rubbing the thick length of him through your slick, the head catching on your clit just enough to make your breath stutter. “Take you,” he went on, voice dropping. “All flushed, shaking, pretending you’ve had enough…”
His hand slipped between you, guiding himself to your entrance. The blunt head pressed in, stretching you all over again. Your eyes fluttered, head going back, lost in feeling you couldn’t fight.
“…when your body betrays you, opening so sweetly the second I push,” he whispered, sliding deeper as a broken sound tore from your throat. “Tell me, little liar does this feel real enough?”
Summary: Death has a name and a face and a thirst for blood.
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, blood, murder, loss of virginity, ambiguous time period, vampire!Loki
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
♱⃓
Your sister was the first to go.
It happened gradually, so gradually that it took you so much longer than the rest to realize something was wrong. By the time you did, she was already at death’s door, and your mother was sitting you down to have a conversation about preparing for the worst. It was a conversation that you would remember for years to come and even as it was being had, you were deep in denial.
Your sister had always been healthy—much healthier than you—and the bout of illness seemed to have come out of thin air. One morning she was all smiles at the breakfast table, cherubic and perfect and bothering your father with silly jests as she always did, and then the next morning she did not even have the strength to get out of bed. You thought nothing of it.
A simple cold.
“I am having some tea put on for your sister,” your mother had said.
You had only hummed in response then, nothing about the statement causing alarm. A book was in your hand as you glided outside to read under a tree. You recalled the stray thought of wishing healing on your sister, but nothing beyond that. It saddened you now to think about your lack of concern at the time, but how were you to know?
How could you have known that she would be dead in only two week’s time?
A mere fortnight?
One sick morning turned into two which then turned into three and before you knew it, it had been a while since you had breakfast with the other woman. What you thought would clear up in a few days had only seemed to get worse, and while your parents assured you that she would be better in no time, the worry in their eyes said otherwise.
As did their lips.
“...but you and father tend to her,” you argued one evening, looking at your mother with a frown. “Why is it that I cannot see her?”
Your mother started to take your hand before thinking better of it.
“...because we do not yet know what is wrong with her. We do not know how it could be passed along and one sick daughter is frightful enough,” was her excuse.
An excuse you did not agree with. Did she and father not care if they got sick? Did she not consider how it might affect you should they fall as ill as your sister? Perhaps your defiant thoughts were written all over your face because your mother gently shushed you before you could utter another word. She left you with your thoughts, and the next day you hid around the corner as the doctor came to see to their sick daughter.
“A diagnosis eludes me.”
His confession made your own heart sink, and you could only imagine the look on your parents’ faces as the great doctor in this town admitted to them that he did not know what ailed your sister.
“How can that be?” your father quietly asked him after some time.
“By all accounts…she is not sick—at least, she is showing no outright signs of any illness.”
There was a long beat of silence, and it seemed that he decided to elaborate.
“She has no cough and nothing is irregular about her heart or breathing–.”
“Yes, but she does not eat and she is always so exhausted and…look at her! You know what our daughter looks like, doctor, and she is half the size she once was in only one week’s time. Something is very wrong with her,” your mother hissed.
Your own back was pressed to the wall as they went back and forth with him, all of this information being news to you. Had your sister really lost so much weight in only a short amount of time? Was she really not eating? But was it also true that she had no cough or any other signs of illness?
“I fear that this may be more psychological than anything,” the physician finally said.
“Are you trying to imply that this is all in her head somehow?”
The other man’s statement brought forth a whole new round of questioning and anger, and you were forced to take your leave when you heard their footsteps coming closer. When they all exited through the door—to discuss this more at length, no doubt—you were seated with a book in your lap as if it were the most entrancing thing you ever read.
However, no sooner did the door shut that you found yourself hurrying down the hall and to the one place you had been forbidden from for days.
Your sister’s door had never been a barrier for you, and to stop in front of it with hesitation certainly made it feel as such for the first time in your life. This woman was your best friend, your confidant, the person you were closest to in the entire world. You could find her voice and pick out her face from any crowd, but as it were…she was almost unrecognizable to you.
Your mother’s words did not quite convey just how much weight she had lost, and as you stood in the doorway, you could not help but to think that she looked so frail—terrifying even. Under normal circumstances, one could mistake her for the younger of you two, but as you stood before her, you could only think about how sick one would think she was because she looked very sick indeed.
“Sister?”
Her voice was so small, airy. She sounded like a child.
“Is that you?”
Her thin arm lifted into the air, and her fingers—so skeletal—beckoned you closer.
“They have kept you away, and how I have longed to gaze upon your face…”
You took slow steps with every word that left her lips, and if she noticed the fear and horror on your face, she spoke nothing of it. The bedding was piled so high that only now could you really get a good look at her, and you wished that you had better self control to swallow down your gasp.
Her face was so gaunt that it looked painful, and her once thick and beautiful hair had thinned so. Her skin had lost its color, lips dry and eyes sunken in, and had you walked upon her while she was sleeping, you would have thought she was having an eternal slumber already. With that being said, beyond all that, she was still beautiful in a ghostly sort of way. It fascinated you as much as it terrified you.
“You are sick,” you breathed, looking over her. “Very sick.”
“No,” she hurried to argue, shaking her head. “I am just tired, is all.”
“Tired? This is no mere exhaustion. You look as if you will blow away with the wind.”
When she reached for you, you let her pull you to sit down, and despite how ghastly she looked, there was a twinkle in her eye that you had never seen before. A small smile danced along her lips, and in this moment she looked so much unlike herself.
“Really,” she stressed to you. “I am not sick.”
“Something is wrong,” you told her, sounding like your mother. “What is it then?”
You watched as your sister licked her lips in a way you had never witnessed. It disturbed you, and a shudder crawled up your spine as she slowly swiped her tongue between them. Her eyes glinted in an unfamiliar manner, and for a moment, you felt like she was not seeing you, at all.
“He visits me at night.”
She said the words so quietly that you almost did not hear her, but once you processed what she said, your frown only deepened.
“He crawls through my window…like a cat, you see,” she seemed to gasp. “...in the darkness…and he tastes me…”
Her vulgar words had you gasping, quickly rising to your feet in shock, and you watched as her frail hands glided along her neck and chest.
“He drinks from me, and Y/N, I swear,” she shook her head. “I have never known such heaven.”
Her disturbing words had you so frozen and turned around that you did not even hear your mother return, only the sound of her yelling at you as she pulled you out of your sister’s room. The sound of the other woman’s soft laugh reached your ears even from outside the door, and your feet had a mind of their own as they carried you down the hall.
You could only think to yourself that your parents hid much more about your sister’s illness than you realized. They spoke of no fever, and so you did not think the heat was making her say such delirious things, but perhaps the physician was not far off when he brought up her state of mind. Even hours later, her words disturbed you whenever you thought about them, and you could not get that look in her eyes out of your head.
It was a look of hunger and desperation and elation all rolled into one as she spoke of some phantom man who came into her room at night and drank from her. The thought made you shudder, and even in the darkness of your family’s manor, you swore that you could hear her childlike giggle from down the hall.
One week later, your sister was dead.
Your father was the next to go.
It happened quickly, the complete opposite of your sister, and you did not know if you preferred that. It was a simple carriage ride from the next town over when their carriage was…attacked. Somehow. At least, that is what you were told. You never did see anything for yourself, your mother having the responsibility and burden of identifying his body.
All you knew was that she was a wreck when you saw her.
It was only when you were at the funeral—the second in a month’s time—did you finally hear whispers of what may have happened that fateful night.
“The carriage driver was completely ripped apart,” a woman whispered behind you. “I hear they did not find much to even put in his casket.”
You froze at that, and you wondered if the insensitive woman even realized that you were there.
“...and poor Mr. Y/L/N was completely drained of blood…”
Your heart sank.
“Throat practically ripped out. Or…at least that is what they said.”
“What sort of animal can do such a thing?”
“It sounds like something straight out of a nightmare…”
Their words did not leave you for weeks, and you found it so hard to sleep.
The absence of both your sister and your father—and especially in such a short amount of time—was glaringly present in the manor. While your mother brought on help to lighten the load for the time being, when it was all said and done, she did not need someone to do the cooking and the sweeping and the dusting. Your mother needed someone to bring back your father and sister, and you very much wanted the same.
In the weeks that followed their deaths, a dark cloud seemed to descend over the house. You swore that it followed you with every corner you turned and every step you took. It was dark and ominous and suffocating, and there were many nights you sat up in your bed out of your sleep and gasping for breath. If you did not know any better, you swore that you could feel it choking you with its bare hands if it had any.
The demise of your sister was something you had come to be prepared for even if it was only a few days in advance. That is not to say that it made her death any easier to swallow, but your father’s was so sudden that no preparations—emotional or otherwise—had even been made. When your sister was buried, the grief had threatened to pull you down, but something about your father’s death triggered something else entirely.
You could feel it in your very bones.
There was a danger that hung in the air in his absence. Perhaps it was because you thought your father to be untouchable. His death was something you rarely gave thought to and when you did, you were confident that it would be something you would have to grapple with so far in the future. He was your provider and your protector and with him gone, you felt scarily vulnerable. Vulnerable to what? You did not know.
…but those nights in which you walked the dark hallways to find something to eat or drink grew less frequent. Every trip down to the kitchen and back up to your room felt longer than the last. At one point, you swore that your mind was playing a trick on you and that the hallway had grown in length.
Every step felt shadowed, and too many times did you stop with a glass in hand, convinced that you could hear the whisper of footsteps echoing alongside yours. In those moments you stood so still and did not dare to release a single breath, afraid that it would bring something about you would not have protection from. In those moments, your hair would stand on end and you would stare straight ahead into the darkness for so long that you swore you even started to see things.
Telling yourself that you could not remain there all night, frozen between floors and rooms, you would force yourself to carry on, walking slow and soft in case you were being followed by something you swore you could not see. And when you finally made it to your room, you faced the door as you closed it, convinced that something would latch onto your back otherwise and that you would take it to bed with you.
As you laid in bed, you told yourself that the faint footsteps outside of your door was all in your head.
Your mother’s uncharacteristic silence had become the new normal. Breakfast was a quiet affair, tea time was a quiet affair, and you were sure that even if she did leave the house with you to go to the market, it too would have been a quiet affair. As it were, you could never even get the older woman to step foot outside of the door.
Your sister’s death had shaken her, but your father’s had broken her entirely. It sometimes made you wonder how she might have reacted at your death, but as it were, she would never know. Despite how much the house terrified you these days, that ominous darkness had claimed her instead.
Like your sister, it crept up on her.
Unlike with your sister though, you were attuned to everything about your mother these days for she was all you had. So when those dreadful bags started to appear beneath her eyes from a lack of sleep, you were the first to point it out.
“I am just tired, sweetheart,” she softly told you, waving you off.
“...but all you ever do is sleep.”
She had no answer for you, humming softly to herself as if the brief exchange had never happened, at all. You stared at her for so long, and she continued to hum and needlepoint and for a moment, you could have sworn that she forgot you were there entirely. The entire time your gaze remained on her, she did not look up once, and a cold feeling washed over you, feeling the strangest sense of deja vu as you looked over her.
Your mother became something like a ghost—smiling past you and looking through you and resembling something like a lesser version of herself each day.
“Mother, you must get out of bed. Walk around, get some sunlight…eat.”
They were familiar words that she had been hearing for days, and like all the other times, your words fell on deaf ears. She merely smiled at you and took your hand and gently rubbed your skin from the comfort of her bed.
“You are so beautiful, sweetheart,” she whispered.
It was as if she was not even there, at all, and no one was more relieved than you when the physician finally came to see her, terrified of history repeating itself. But it seemed determined to do just that because he uttered the same words to you that he did to your parents all those months ago.
“She has no outright signs of illness,” he told you. “...and I fear…it is all psychological.”
The words ‘care’ and ‘facility’ reached your ears, but you did not know how to tell him that you were afraid to be alone in this house. This house that killed your sister and was currently killing your mother, and should you be left alone in it, you were afraid that it would kill you too.
It certainly felt that way, especially in the darkness, and each step to your mother’s room felt harder and harder to take. She did not want to eat nor drink, and so you felt it was your duty to see to it that she did not suffer her daughter’s fate. Every movement closer to her room felt…unwise, and when the candle in your hand lit up her door, a newfound silence descended over the corridor. As if there were faint whispers you had not been able to register before, only now that it truly felt silent.
“Mother?”
Silence was all that met you, and swallowing down your fear, you turned the knob.
You did not know what sight you expected to be met with, but oddly enough it was not the vision of your mother resting soundly in her bed. The sight genuinely surprised you, and for just a moment you silently told yourself to get it together.
You stepped into the room with a sigh, placing the water on her nightstand and looking over her. Your brows knitted at how peaceful she looked, and you recalled a stray thought about your sister once. If you did not know any better, you would say that your mother was dead, but the slow rise and fall of her chest pointed to otherwise.
Telling yourself that you would leave the water for her to drink in the morning, you made your leave. You turned your back on her and the room, the candle lighting the hallway before you. With the thought of your bed in mind, you turned to close the door…and froze.
It was a cruel trick of the light, but your eyes shaped the outline of a figure nonetheless. It towered over where your mother slept like some grim reaper, and the flame of the candle flickered despite the lack of wind. You did not look away once, and your lips parted in a silent gasp, but when you moved the candle past your face…her room was empty once again.
You told yourself that you were seeing things, but only your mind believed that. Your heart thudded and your skin grew cold and your legs shook as if something had really been there. You tried to convince yourself that it was nothing, but then why did you suddenly feel less alone?
When you looked over your shoulder, all that met you was darkness. No matter which way the candle moved, the flame only shined a light on darkness, and against your better judgement, you slowly made your way back to your room.
You buried your mother four days later.
And then you were alone.
Your sister spoke the truth.
He came in the night.
A house full of maids and kitchen staff and houseboys posed no deterrent for him for his sights had been set on you since before the first member of your family was buried. He did not want the maids or any of the houseboys or any of the cooks. He wanted the last surviving member of your family.
He wanted you when you were down and isolated and afraid of something you could not see but could surely feel.
Your window was not open, but your sheets ruffled all the same as if it were. They moved like something was beneath them, and even in your sleep, you could feel it. You could feel that something was not right. A ghost of a whisper was in your ear and the whisper of fingers was on your skin. They danced along your flesh like spiders, and when you reached down to push them away, your hand only met air.
Staring up at the ceiling gave you no clarity. Your room was as empty as it was when you retired to bed, and you swallowed at the thought that you were losing your sanity too. It would not be surprising if you were. After all, burying all of the family you had in half a year’s time was not something you would wish on the worst of people.
You continued to stare into the darkness for what felt like hours, and despite your best efforts, sleep eventually won.
It was a good sleep—a great sleep even—and had one of the maids not told you, you would’ve thought that you slept for days instead of only one. Her proposal of breakfast surprisingly stirred up nothing within you, and despite how much it worried you that you did not want to get out of bed, you could not find it in yourself to move. Despite how long you had slept, you felt the most exhausted that you ever felt.
One day turned into three, and each morning you felt weaker and weaker.
Your body and your mind were in a battle, and the latter only won with the help of one of the maids, her shoulder acting as a crutch as she guided you to the washroom. Every action felt tenfold and took the greatest bit of strength to do. All of this seemed so familiar to you but on the other side now, and determined to get back to your room on your own, you brushed off her help.
Your bed called to you, and you almost heeded its call, but one glance in the mirror stopped you.
You looked weaker, yes. You had already started to lose your color, this was true. Looking into the mirror certainly stirred up some feelings that you had when staring into the faces of your sister and mother, but none of those things were what caught your attention. With parted lips, you tilted your head to the side, and your mind struggled to comprehend what you were staring at.
The bite marks were all that you could see, and your gaze eventually lowered to the floor.
Faint memories of waking up in the middle of the night with the feeling of something sitting on your chest hit you. The heavy feeling, the heat coursing through your body, none of it was forgotten, and your eyes traveled to your bed in fear. Its call was so strong, and your mind told you to go downstairs, but your body did not listen.
He found you right where he wanted you when darkness fell again, and this time he was no phantom. There were no whispers of a touch nor the faint murmurs of voices on the wind that you had convinced yourself you had imagined.
He was before you in the flesh.
His soft hands glided along your frame as if they were committing you to memory. His lips kissed along your skin, and in between every peck, he took a bite out of you. Gentle bites, nothing alarming, but enough to make you gasp and arch off of the bed. His dark hair tickled your shoulder as he drank from you, and you could not hold in your hum as his fingers gently dragged back and forth along your spine.
He was beautiful, but he carried death with him.
When his fingers found their way inside of you—the first to ever do such a thing—it brought a noise out of you that you did not know was possible. It seemed to amuse him, and beyond the haze of ecstasy and horror, you heard something like a sound of appreciation leave his lips. His fingers were soaked with you, and the sheets whispered in the otherwise quiet room from every movement.
Your window was wide open tonight, and the wind blew the curtains along the walls.
His pale skin glowed under the moonlight—you both were bathed in it—and the smell of blood was strong in the room. He bit you everywhere he so desired—your neck, your breast, your ankle, and even that place between your thighs where you had never imagined a mouth could go. It made you feel on fire, and you twisted your hands into your hair as he crawled up your trembling body.
One of his arms snaked its way underneath you, lifting your chest towards his mouth, and the pulling sensation of your blood leaving your frame had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your legs were tangled with his, and he was on his knees, and your back was completely off of your bed. You felt as if you were floating, and you did not want to come down.
“What a pretty responsive thing you are…”
It was the first time you heard him speak—truly speak beyond whispers in the air and voices in your head.
When he finally slid his cock into you, your head hung off of the bed and your fingers twisted into his hair. It was oh so painful but the sensations were equally new and exciting and the mix of it all had you moaning into the darkness. Your blood from your chest ran down your neck and some of it even onto your lips.
You even swore that you heard him growl into your skin as he fucked you, and it sounded so inhuman, but you supposed that is what he was—inhuman. He disappeared in the light and came out of the darkness and found his way into your head. He lived off of the blood of people like you, and only something other could do that.
Your foot slid up and down his leg as he stretched you out onto his cock, splitting you open and sinking into your folds without a care in the world. His tongue traced the trail of blood he left behind, and when his lips found yours, you tasted yourself on his mouth. He was rabid and savage and wild just like an animal, but more than anything, he was teasing and cruel and hungry like a predator.
He prevented you from hurdling over that cliff just too many times to keep you sane, and you felt yourself losing your mind more and more every time you were denied. Every stroke of his cock flamed that fire deep within your stomach, and as the night went on, you felt as if you were about to combust. You were sticky with sweat and blood, and your sheets must have looked like a crime scene.
He bit you again and again, satiating more than one hunger by taking his fill of your body. You were in heaven and hell at the same time, and everything around you melted away. You forgot where you were, you forgot your grief, and you forgot your solitude. You even forgot your name, and when you finally came around him, all that you felt was cock and his teeth and the pleasure that both were giving you.
Your mouth hung open and your head was thrown back and you enjoyed all the sensations of heaven as he dragged you to hell.
Warning: This will include dark elements such as obsession, stalking, and possible violence and abuse.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Loki, plus reader
Note: Based on this. I tweaked it a bit but hopefully it's good.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
The low drone of classical music tickles the base of Loki’s skull. His eyes dully skim around the restaurant as exhales, trying to force the tension from his shoulders. Above the plucking melody, another noise pinches his nerves. His green eyes drift back to the woman across from him.
Her lips shine with gloss as she swirls the wine in her tall glass. She leans forward as she babbles at him about some tropical island she’d love to visit. She went to St. Barths but she’s a wanderer. So she proclaims. To him, she seems much in line with other women he’s met.
She moves her shoulders so the satin straps slip and give a generous view of her chest. He doesn’t feel a thing about it. He looks down at the glass of dark liquor and turns it with his fingertips on the brim. He’s never been one for pretenses. He can weave a lie for his whims, but never one to play jester to the court.
“Did you enjoy your dinner?” He asks dully.
She bats her thickly coated lashes. They might not be hers. She sits up and looks down at her plate, her eyes widen as if surprised to see it. She took a bite of the lobster and maybe two of the pilaf. He wouldn’t balk at the price if the food was eaten.
“You’ll need a box.”
“Oh, I don’t eat leftovers.” She preens. “But you’re welcome to it.” She sits back and traces her pointed nails along her neck. “It was just so delicious, I could hardly eat it all.”
Or any. His cheek dimples as he swallows down his agitation. He thinks this is their first date but it isn’t that different than the one he sat through last week. No, that was Lorena, this is… Delilah? It doesn’t truly matter, the result is the same.
“I had a lovely time,” she brushes her shoe up his leg under the table. He doesn’t react, instead signalling for the check.
“Well, then, if you’re all done,” he intones.
She pouts. “We could get dessert…”
“I’m full,” he insists as he sits back. His neck hurts as the muscles tangle around each other. He has to stop himself from grinding his teeth. “Seems you are too.”
Her cheek twitches as she looks at her plate then back at him. Her brow tweaks slightly. “We don’t have to have it here.”
He stares at her. Usually, he would accept. He’s not one to turn down a bit of fun but he thinks of Lisa. No, Lorena… hm. She just sort of laid there and let out these little squeaks. He’s never had to fake it before. Judging by this one’s rambling of me, me, me, he doesn’t foresee much in it for himself.
“I’m flattered,” he checks his watch. “But I don’t think this is going to work out.”
“You don’t think…” she starts sourly. “Look at me. You’re turning me down?”
“I’ll pay for your dinner.” He shrugs.
“My dinner…” she rolls her eyes to the ceiling and her expression darkens. “You? You’re too good for me?”
“Well, darling, if you’d like to foot the bill,” he suggests as the server brings the little leather folio with the invoice.
She juts out her lip and scoffs. “Whatever. You’re so… lame.”
She throws her cloth napkin on the table and slides off the bench. She snatches up her purse and struts away. She doesn’t leave. She perches at the bar and shimmies on the stool, bobbling her head as she looks for fresh prey.
He hands his card to the server and asks for a box. He probably won’t eat the lobster either but he knows where it will go if he leaves it. He taps his fingers on the table then turns his hand. He drags it over and clamps his glass. He empties it and sets it back down.
The server returns with his card and the box, then bids him a good night. Oh very good. Alone. He can be content by himself, it is much preferable to the vapid dating pool, and yet, he would not be unhappy with one around. Finding someone he can bear is quite another thing.
He scrapes the lobster and rice into the box and closes the flaps. He stands and walks out without a glance in either direction. He can hear the obnoxious trilling of that woman as she snares in her catch. Best of luck, fellow.
Loki strides down the street. He has no true direction. He will hail a cab eventually but the evening air is soft but cool. Soothing as his agitation boils in his scalp. How difficult can it be to just be tolerable?
Simplicity is a much underappreciated commodity these days. That’s what he would prefer. But these women, they want three-hundred dollar plates and sparkling wine. He knows those satin dresses are sold online for pennies. A dime a dozen, just like the women.
A hurtling force nearly knocks him onto his rear. He staggers as an ‘oomph’ rises from the bulldozer that nearly just flattened him. He looks down at the woman as she teeters and he catches her shoulder, the box flattened against his middle. Rice tumbles out of a bent flap.
“Oh, oh, I’m sorry! S-so-sorry!” She blusters as she pulls back and touches her cheeks.
Her eyes are shining and her sweat hangs off one arm. The strap of her bag is stuck between her rather full bosom and her shirt rides up just above her jeans, giving a peek of her soft belly. Her hips are wide and her thighs curved. She is almost overflowing.
He twitches as he looks down at her. Something about her, how every part of her is slightly askew, draws him in. And yet, she is looking past him.
“I’m sorry! I’m late! I have to go.”
“Miss,” he goes to grab her arm as she skirts around him.
She slips through his reach and bounces down the sidewalk. She nearly trips on a crack but does not stop. Her bag bounces on her hip and something falls at her heels without notice.
He peers around then calmly follows her path. He stops and bends to scoop up the lost item. It’s a receipt. He examines it. Nothing to tell him about her, only that she needed bread and margarine.
Why does he care? She’s just a stranger. A rather clumsy one at that. He looks down at the crushed container and the smear of lobster butter on his jacket.
summary: jobs have consequences, but y/n would’ve never thought she’d have to go through consequences with loki, the god of mischief. he had always been hard to get to, but the team knew his biggest weakness. women who happen to look ideal to y/n.
note: Kinktober is close, and we have a lot to give to our support. Stay tuned!
DO NOT READ IF SA MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!
“That’s the problem — I’m not exactly his type,” Natasha said as Tony began flicking through the photos on the screen of Loki with women throughout the years of being on Asgard.
“Okay? — What are we looking at?” Steve grew confused. “A bunch of half-naked women all over Loki,” Bucky said as he sat down next to y/n, slightly knowing where this is going.
“Come on, guys, it’s not hard to see all the women he’s with look similar to y/n,” Tony said. “What will I have to do?” Y/n asked, making Bucky lash out within seconds.
“What- No!” Bucky said as he got up from his chair. “Look, I knew you’d react like this, so I tried bringing it around slower-“ Tony tried saying, but Bucky cut him off.
“Slow? None of this would have been slow to me. She’s not going — Done!” Bucky said, then stormed out of the room, not even taking a look at y/n. This was a dangerous situation, and they all knew it.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Steve said, then ran after Bucky. “I’ll do it — I don’t know why he’s acting like that,“ Tony and Natasha chuckled, because Bucky’s reaction was painfully obvious.
“He has a thing for you, and you have a thing for him. It’s not that hard to see. We’re all adults here,” Natasha said.
“Now that Buck’s not here- You’ll be attracting Loki. He has no idea who you are, so you’ll be going there like a normal guest who signed up to be one of Loki’s show,” Tony started explaining.
“Hopefully you’ll end up being on his side the whole night, making sure to keep him away from the basement while we get Thor.”
“But,” Tony said, because there’s a twist. “He might be sexual, and if you can’t go through it, you can always tell me, and I’ll make another-“ Tony tried saying, but y/n cut him off.
“It’s fine — I’ll go through it,” y/n said, committing to whatever the team needed to get Thor back. “I’ll be close by just in case anything happens,” Natasha said, making y/n nod her head.
Team had just dropped y/n off at the front of one of Loki’s mansions. Many women stood in line. Ever since Loki came to Earth, women had been throwing themselves at him.
“Once the lights go off at the party, you can find your way out of there, alright? We don’t have any earpieces because Loki’s too smart for that,” Tony said as he fixed her dress.
Bucky had helped y/n pick out the dress for tonight while he was arguing with her. He made sure to give y/n a long but fitted dress so that nothing would be too revealing, and hopefully, Loki wouldn’t make any sexual moves on her.
He hated the thought of anyone being close to y/n, but Loki the most. He was cocky and an evil person. He didn’t deserve y/n, but a job like this comes with sacrifices.
“I’ll be fine, okay? Just focus on getting Thor without setting off any alarm. I don’t feel like fighting against a goddess,” y/n joked before making her way towards the front entrance.
The scared, but ready, young woman made her way through the party. She made sure to walk in front of and around Loki to get his attention.
Back at Stark Tower, Tony argued with Bucky, telling him that the dress y/n had on wasn’t revealing enough to grab Loki’s attention, but Bucky knew it was. Y/n didn’t need too much skin to show how beautiful she was.
Y/n pulled out an old trick out of the bag and made her way to the bar. Usually, when people see you drink, it’s a sign you’re not on duty.
“And, who might this beautiful lady be?” Loki asked as he walked up to y/n. Y/n slowly turned around to face him, and god, was he taller than she expected. He was definitely taller than Thor.
“Y/n, and you?” She asked, making Loki chuckle. “You should know who I am, sweetheart. I doubt a pretty little thing like you would just show up to anyone's party.”
“Loki — I was just a bit nervous,” y/n faked her shyness, hoping he would get suspicious. Any wrong move, and he may kill her. He wasn’t exactly a hear me out person.
“No need to be worried, darling. I’m not too evil. I’m a God, and the God is asking if you’d like to dance?” Y/n slightly smiled before accepting his offer. “Of course,”
Loki led y/n to the dance floor and wasted no time wrapping his hands and arms around her to guide her steps to dance.
Natasha, Steve, Tony and Bucky are just now getting into the building. They had to fight off some guards unlike y/n.
“Is there something on your mind?” Loki asked as he pulled y/n into him. “Nothing- I’m just excited to be here,” y/n lied as Loki looked down at her with a smirk she knew meant nothing well.
“Were you excited to get dressed and come see me tonight?” Loki asked, licking his lips and scanning y/n’s smaller figure. His eyes showed how much he wanted to eat her alive.
“Yes, I was excited, and now I’m dancing with him,” y/n faked smiled as Loki brought his hand up to her cheek, rubbing it softly to take in the feel of her skin. Both of their hearts were racing for two completely different reasons.
“How is it so far? Are you feeling lucky, darling?” Loki asked as he slowly leaned into y/n’s ear. “Cause I definitely am,” his voice sent shock waves through y/n’s body. He was more intimidating than she thought.
“How about we take this some place more — private,” Loki suggested, causing her heart to drop. She didn’t know he’d ask her that question so soon into the mission.
“Oh uh- Sure,” y/n tried acting like she had no idea what he was planning. She signed up for this, so she can’t go back now. She hated it, but if she didn’t go through with this, Thor could be sent somewhere they’d never find him.
“Who did you come here with, darling? There’s no way anyone would be foolish enough to let a beautiful young lady walk around alone,”
“I came alone because I wanted to see the famous Loki,” y/n lied with a slightly shaky voice as Loki continued to pull her through his long hallways until they entered a huge bedroom with dim lights.
“You don’t mind it being this dark, right, sweetheart? This is the way I like it,” Loki said as he closed and locked the door behind the two. Y/n shook her head as he slowly led her to his bed.
“I-I like it this way as well,” y/n continued to fake smile for him as she sat down on the bed, hoping he’d offer her something to drink so she could slow down his process of trying to get with her.
“Great because I would like to fully be in the mood when I taste you,” y/n’s heart dropped for the second time tonight as she looked up at the man. His tall, dark figure would make anyone feel a certain way.
“Don’t be nervous, young one — I’ll make sure to treat you with everything you deserve,” Loki said, looking into y/n’s eyes with lust. Thor had warned the team once about Loki’s reputation back in Asgard. He was and still is a very sexually active being.
Loki wasted no time pulling y/n to her feet and turning her around to unzip her dress. The God made sure to go slow to enjoy every little bit of y/n.
“I’ve been on this planet for a very long time, so I know what humans like you like during sex,” Loki said, then pushed y/n onto her back.
“Ima going to fuck you so good,” Loki said, surprising y/n. That isn’t how he speaks, but he’s been on this planet for a while now. He’s leaning and adapting every day.
Y/n’s dress held her breasts so that she wouldn’t need a bra, meaning she was now lying down on Loki’s bed in only her panties.
“They’re perfect,” Loki whispered, now playing with them as he slowly moved in between her legs. “I can smell how wet you are, princess,” Loki hissed, feeling his cock harder within seconds. He wasted no time pulling himself out. He didn’t bother getting undressed.
“Would you even be able to take a cock like mine?” Loki asked, making y/n look down. Her heart immediately dropped, almost stopping at the sight of him, his manhood.
People aren’t used to seeing Loki in his true form, so when y/n looked down to see him switching skin tones, which was blue and his normal skin tone, she didn’t know what to think.
If that wasn’t enough, then his length, width, veins, and leaking hole were. He was ready, and she wasn’t. She had fully regretted taking this mission. She should have listened to Bucky.
“I can tell you’ve never had a cock this big,” Loki smirked, loving the thought of breaking her in. He was truly an evil being. “N-No,” y/n whispered, now actually scared of how this could end for her.
“Just relax,” Loki said after spitting on his hand to give enough lubricant, but all the lubricant in the world couldn’t prepare y/n for that’s was coming.
“Wait-” y/n cut herself off as she tried pushing his waist away, but he was too strong. Within seconds, y/n was fuller than she had ever been. The tears and aching automatically came with the process.
“You’re so fucking tight,”
Loki began thrusting into y/n at an unbelievable pace to her, but an easy pace for him. “Loki, please,” the young lady begged, feeling the knot in her stomach get harder to hold in. She had never been so close to releasing so fast. It’s like his size was forcing it out of her.
“Your moans are music from the heavens to my ears, darling — You’re the last human I’d ever want to ruin — Maybe I should take you back to Asgard — Should I?” Loki asked, but y/n couldn’t answer.
“I know it’s hard to take, but you’re taking me so well — So so well,” Loki said as he picked his pace up without warning. “N-No, please, slower,” y/n cried out, but all he did was look down at her with his evil smirk.
“Let it all out, baby,” Loki said as y/n began pushing and slapping at his chest. “Yes — Yes,” Loki grunted, forcing y/n’s legs over his shoulders, to make her take him from a different angle. Now he was deeper than before.
“P-Please,” y/n threw her head back in disbelief. Loki connected his left hand to her neck and grabbed her lower face with his right.
“Look at you,” Loki growled as he pounded harder, watching her body jolt and air get knocked out of her lungs. “So close, darling — Want me to release in you? I’ll fill you up so much,”
Before y/n could respond, Loki began filling her up. She could’ve sworn she could hear the way he leaked into her.
“Mhm fuuuck!” Loki shouted as he pushed off me. “I think it’s time for round two, my lady,” Loki said as he took a look at how much cum ran down y/n’s ass cheek. She couldn’t look more perfect to him.
“I want you to play with yourself while I watch, sweetheart, and don’t stop. Not even when your orgasm hits,” Loki said, flopping next to y/n, positioning himself to watch her use herself.
“And, when I feel like you’ve had enough- I’ll fuck you in that other tight little hole of yours,” Loki whispered directly into y/n’s ear. Right after pulling away, all the lights went off in his room.
Y/n took that opportunity to turn to the side and sting Loki with a ring be had designed and given to her for this exact moment.
Loki rolled off the bed, thankfully knocked out cold, as y/n struggled to get out of his bed.
What do I even say to them?
“Where is she?” Bucky asked, already stressing about y/n being a few minutes late. “Just wait,” Tony said, a bit stressed himself. “She better be here in one minute exactly or I’m going in,”
“There! There!” Tony pointed her out before starting up the truck. “Open the door!” Scotlyn yelled, running away from the guards. Bucky quickly opened the door right before she jumped in.
“Is she in?” Tony asked, but before anyone could answer, the guards started shooting at them. “Go!” Everyone yelled before Tony stepped on it.
“Where the fuck were you!?” Bucky asked, worried. “Had some problems getting past the guards. They came for Loki a couple of minutes after the lights went out,” y/n said, hoping they wouldn’t ask her too many questions.
Bucky’s heart slowly sank as y/n looked out of the window. Y/n isn’t the type to avoid eye contact, but tonight, she didn’t want to look at anyone. She didn’t know how to feel.
How would she know how to feel? Was it worth it? Will Loki end up telling her team how much she shook and came around him tonight?
Summary: Prince Loki hosts auctions for desperate, rich, old, men and women who need some help with their desires. Loki never bids. No one ever piqued his interest. Until he sees you. So cute. So innocent. So his.
Pairing: Dark!Loki x female!reader
Word count: 2363
Warnings: 18+, Innocent kink, virginity selling, cheatingish, knife kink, oral(f receiving), praise, degrading, light slapping (thighs, arms), cumming inside, squirting, foul language obviously, iron mentioned (not detailed), nipple sucking, masturbation, grinding, blindfold mentioned. Please let me know if I missed anything!
Also this is my first fic so please be nice. I worked really hard on this! If you don't like dark fics then find another fic to read. I put warnings for a reason. Read at your own risks.
Songs I listened to/used as inspo as i wrote.
Post that got my brain going.
Loki never bid. Even in the auctions he hosted. No one ever piqued the prince's interest. He only hosted these for the older upper class. The old, desperate men and women who needed something to deal with their desires. The auctions were also for a good cause to a point. The poor would sell their virginity for money. They use the money so they can lead a bit of a better life, but for the expense of their virginity.
Loki sits on Odin’s throne, watching over the auction. The throne room is dim; except for the stage that is lit with torches. The virgins come in many different shapes and sizes. Some have more revealing outfits than others. The more revealing the better. Right?
Wrong. The majority of the bidders like to have more clothing on their virgins. It’s like a present waiting to be opened. A sweet present.
One after the next virgins are sold in Loki’s auction. Some are far more interesting than the others. All bids start at 2,000 Asgardian coins. Loki starts to get bored of his own auction. The auction is so deplorable he starts to drift off to sleep on the throne.
As he begins to finally fall into slumber a big roar from the bidders startles him awake. Bidders start to caterwaul bids. A woman stands, “2,500 coins!”
A man interrupts, “5,000 coins!”
Loki watches as one after the next bid for a woman. A beautiful, perfect, innocent woman. Such a perfect virgin. His virgin. No one has piqued his interest. So why this one?
The bid gets higher and higher. Until Loki can’t bear it anymore, “Half a million coins!”
Everyone looks back at Loki with a gasp. They know Loki never bids. Even the ones up for auction know that. Everyone is surprised to see Loki stalk his long legs up to the stage. The bidders watch silently as Loki stomps up onto the stage, throws you over his strong shoulder, and announces, “The auction is over with. Leave at once.”
You squeal as he throws you over his shoulder. He strides out of the throne room and towards his chambers with you over his shoulder. Why does he want to fuck you so badly? Never faltering as he walks through the halls of the palace. Servants and guards bow their heads towards Loki. Even under the odd circumstances, they know not to question Loki and the woman he is carrying. You swear everyone can hear your heartbeat. The prince. The prince of Asgard. He bid half a million on you. You.
As if Loki could hear your thoughts he interrupts them, “You are going to regret selling your virginity. You are mine, darling. You will be my toy,” he chuckles lowly, “and sweet thing I can hear your thoughts. No secrets from your God.”
Loki throws you on his plush bed. Only a bed a prince would have. You hadn’t even noticed that he walked into his chambers. You lie in a four-poster bed made out of wood with gold woven into the wood. Interesting. Exotic furs lay over the bed as well as the richest silks. Bookshelves line the walls. Weapons of all sorts, mostly daggers. Unique art and tall windows adorn the walls.
“You think too much darling. Too observant. Shall I put a blindfold on those lovely eyes? hm~?” You whimper out a ‘no’ as you face your head back to Loki. You whimper once more as you see how he towers over you as you lay, on his bed, on your back.
“Agreed. It would be a shame to hide those pretty eyes of yours, because you’re too nosy,” Loki smiles darkly down at your smaller frame, still laying on his bed. “Sweet little virgin~ Why is it that you decided to sell this pretty little virgin cunt?”
You stammer over your words, but eventually get them out, “I needed money for my boyfriend. He needs it.”
“Mmm… Darling if your boyfriend really needed it he could have sold his virginity,” Loki places his knees on the bed between your legs. Loki traps you between his arms as he looks down at you. “Something tells me that he has already lost it, so he has to use you for money. What a sad man. Good thing you’re mine now.”
Loki watches as you try to wiggle out from under him, but he just presses his body into yours. “Come on darling, don’t run from me. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you sold your virginity,” he presses you deeper into the bed sheets, his lips just above yours. His cock pressed against your cunt. You let out a soft whimper from his weight.
“Tell me darling. Have you ever seen a cock? Touched one? Dreamed of one day being fucked?” Loki moves to kiss your jaw. He loves the noises you make. So innocent. So pure. So his. He nips at your jaw to force an answer out of you.
You let out a whimper as he nips your jaw. “Yes! I’ve seen one… never touched… I’ve dreamed of it many times…” Loki chuckles as you admit you’ve dreamed about being fucked. Even saw one.
“Such a naughty girl. Don’t worry darling, you'll forget about your boyfriend and those dreams. Especially since you’ll be on my cock,” Loki sucks a dark mark into your neck. He can feel your pulse quicken as he does so. Loki grinds his cock down on your panty covered cunt. You whimper once more.
“You will call me ‘My God’. Do you understand darling?” He stands once he is satisfied that you understand him. He stares down at you. Your dress has ridden up around your hips exposing your wet panties, “Looks like someone has enjoyed themselves.” He continues to stare down at you. Your hair frames your face perfectly as you lay against his sheets. Dress creased from Loki’s grinding. Legs spread. Loki glares at you as you try to close your legs from his prying eyes. He slaps your thigh.
“Don’t you dare. Do you understand me!?” Loki pulls your legs apart, he drops to his knees, and pulls you to the edge of his plush bed.
“Yes- yes, My God,” You gasp and stutter as he pulls you closer to the edge. “Good darling. Such a good girl for her God.”
Loki knows it's over the top, but he loves the power he has over you. Loki summons a dagger to cut your panties off, throwing them to the side. Loki growls as you shut your legs once more. Loki drags his dagger across your right thigh. “Naughty girl. You were being good… Darling if you don’t open these beautiful legs I’ll fuck you with the dagger,” though Loki would only use the handle of the blade, but what you don’t know won’t hurt you. He chuckles as you open your legs quickly. Exposing your cunt. Pink, dripping, and so needy. Loki hoists your thighs over his shoulders. He drags his dagger over your thighs. The dagger drags over the mound of hair you have, then over your puffy clit softly. Loki chuckles as he hears a whimper that’s mixed with pain and pleasure. Loki sets the dagger aside. Without warning he wraps his hands around your thighs, then stuffs his face in your dripping cunt. Sucking on your puffy clit.
“Oh my God!” Loki moans with you. Your taste is one he’ll never forget. He’s keeping you. He’ll fuck every thought of your boyfriend out of your brain. Even as he eats your delicious cunt. Sucking and tongue fucking he still manages to let a few words out, “Yes darling I am your God.”
You arch your cunt closer to his face as you grip onto the silk sheets and furs on his bed. Loki chuckles as you arch your greedy cunt closer to his face. He doesn't blame you. He is a God with a great mouth. A silver-tongued God. He loves how greedy your virgin cunt is. He nips and rolls your clit between his teeth. He moans as he feels your hands shoot to his head and into his dark locks. This only spurs him on. Gods he’s so hard. He laps at your clit, sucking and licking. He then tongue fucks your cunt. He loves the way your virgin cunt clenches around his tongue. His nose nudges at your clit with every thrust of his tongue. Your moans start to get louder, your grip on his head tightens, your thighs do so too.
All you can moan is ‘Oh God’ and ‘Oh My God’. Loki moves back up to your clit. Sucking your clit between his lips. He knows you're close. He knows you're about to cum.
An unfamiliar feeling rises higher and higher in your stomach. It finally snaps. Your back arches even more. Plump thighs squeezing his head. Hands pulling his dark tresses. Your moans mix with the sound of Loki’s cunt devouring. All you can see are stars. This is bliss. Loki continues to devour your cunt as you cum. Loki laps at your sweet cunt until you can’t take it anymore. Before Loki stands he kisses your swollen clit making you whimper.
With a flick of his hand, both of your clothes are gone. His cock standing proudly, just like him. Loki glares at you as you try to cover yourself with the silk blankets. He swats at your arms. Loki gives a mischievous smile as you move up the bed towards the pillows. He starts to jerk his cock. The tip of his cock dripping with precum. He loves the way you watch with fear and arousal. You’ve pressed your back against his headboard. Trying to escape him and his cock, “Oh darling you can’t run. You are mine. I own you now.”
Loki loves the way you look at him in fear as he jerks his cock. He can hear your thoughts. You’re worried about that stupid boyfriend. Loki releases his cock, climbing in the middle of the bed, his cock bobbing as he moves. He grabs your ankles. He loves the way you gasp when he yanks you down the bed. Your back hitting the bed makes you squeak. Your tits bounce as you hit the bed. Loki is kneeling between your thighs. Those pretty thighs of yours are wide open and no way to close them because of Loki. Your cunt so pink and wet. Precum drips from Loki’s cock onto your cunt. All you can do is whimper at the feeling. Loki rubs the head of his cock over your clit, smearing his precum with your arousal. Small moans come from your mouth. Little begs. For what? You don’t even know. Loki pulls your ass on his thighs. Your back arched so beautifully. Those legs of yours over his strong shoulders. His long cock lays over your cunt, “Oh darling~ You’ll be ruined for any other man. This pretty, virgin cunt will only want my cock. No one will satisfy you like me.”
The head of his cock is positioned at your cunt. As he pushes the head of his cock in, you let out the most delicious moans. Cunt clenching his tip so well. “Darling you’re so tight. I hope you’ll be able to take my whole cock,” he grins as you let out a whimper. “Don’t worry darling I’ll make it fit. One way or another.”
A loud, mischievous, laugh sounds through his chambers as he bottoms out, loving the loud moan you let out. Mixed with pain and pleasure. “By the norns- You were definitely worth that half a million- So damn tight,” Loki thrust a few times loving your moans, “Looks like your God popped your cherry. What a sweet treat. What a sweet present.” The smell of sex and iron waft through the air of Loki’s chambers. The thrusts become faster, harder, and deeper. Loki watches as your eyes roll back, hands gripping the bed sheets, tits bouncing as he fucks you hard. Fuck. Within a second Loki has your knees bent into your chest. His strong hands pressing down on your plump thighs. Squelching sounds from your cunt through the chambers. Moans so loud that the whole palace can hear, no doubt. The bed creaks and hits the wall of his chambers. Loki continues to hammer into you, he groans as he hits your g-spot. Your back is arching against your legs and his body. Your cunt clenches repeatedly on his cock, “My God~,” your mouth gaped open with sweet moans. Eyes rolled back. You could probably see your own brain if Loki hadn’t fucked it out already.
“By the norns you look like a Goddess. My Goddess,” Loki throws his head back with a groan as he feels you clench even harder at his praise. He bends down to latch onto one of your nipples. Sucking and nipping at it. Hitting your g-spot even harder with the new position. Fuck. His pubic hairs rub up against your clit. Skin slapping loudly. He knows you’re going to cum. He’s about to cum. His balls tighten. He wants to make you cum first.
“Oh my God!” Loki moves from your nipple, watching as you moan and jerk from the immense pleasure. Like a damn painting. He’s definitely painting this later. Cunt clamping down on his cock. FUCK. Did you just squirt? Loki couldn’t hold back anymore. He cums. Balls deep, with a loud moan. The feeling of Loki cumming deep in your cunt makes you moan. You both are seeing stars. Are we both in Valhalla? Loki finally stills. Cock still twitching in your cunt that is still clenching.
Loki gives his signature mischievous smile as he looks down at you, “Oh darling. You squirted on me. What a mess. You really enjoyed the fucking? Hm?”
You try to apologize, Loki shushes you, “Oh sweet girl I wasn’t complaining. It means you’re hydrated. Such a good girl.” Loki pulls out of you. He gazes at your dripping cunt.
Summary: You had a special surprise planned for your husband on the morning of his birthday, but Loki had other plans
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 464
Warning/s: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers don't even--); cunnilingus; themes of incest (he's adopted but still) [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: not much, really…
Dick-tionary: approach the entire piece with caution
Dawn had just begun to break through the night sky in Asgard when you woke, contentment washing over you as you saw the peaceful silhouette of Loki's features. "Happy Birthday, husband," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his bare chest, just above his heart.
Much as you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms just for a while longer, you reluctantly made a motion to remove yourself from his embrace. However you didn't make much progress, getting pulled back into his arms straight away, a little smirk playing at his mouth.
"And just where do you think you're going at such an early hour, little Princess?" he queried, the gravelly tone of his voice already making you squirm from the wetness pooling between your legs.
"The kitchens," you answered him truthfully. "I've asked the staff to prepare a special treat for you today and I wish to be there. Ensure that everything will turn out as I instructed."
"Hmmm…how solicitous of you, my love," he said softly, fingertips tantalizingly tracing along the length of your spine.
As more light began to fill the room, your stomach fluttered at the sight of his devilish grin as his eyes met yours. Before you could utter another word, a loud yelp slipped from your lips as he tightened his hold on you and effortlessly flipped you onto your back, sinfully large hands pinning your hips to the mattress. The sight of him looking down at you lustfully, locks of his long ebony hair hanging down and framing his face, quickly turned you into a dripping mess.
"However, you do not need to put forth any additional efforts to make this day special," he told you, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips, playfully nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. "I am perfectly, blissfully happy. My life has been complete since the day you told me you returned my love."
He kissed his way down your body, smiling against your skin when you began to squirm under him when he made his way to your navel. You uttered his name in a breathy moan, wordlessly pleading for more.
"The only treat that I intend to indulge in is right here," he rasped, groaning into your skin when he kissed the back of your knee before parting your legs. "Ohh my darling wife…" His eyes flickered to your face, his features dark with salacious intent, before returning to your glistening entrance. "Always so ready for me."
Your moans filled your bedchambers as he placed your thighs on his shoulders, mercilessly feasting on you and bringing you to orgasm over and over again.
Needless to say neither of you managed to make your way out of bed until you were called to breakfast.
A/N: Ohh hey there 😳👀 So my thots went someplace and decided to make this drabble for Loki's birthday. I haven't written smut in so long, so please be kind I bruise easily in these trying times 🫠
