*furiously running to your ask so hard there are skid marks on the ground*
I’ve been CRAVING some more orgasm denial so a drabble with that would be 💯
Only if you can, of course! There’s no pressure! 💚💚
@sarahscribblesssI couldn't decide who would be denied, so I figured- why not both?
This ended up more than a drabble tho...
The Denial Game
Relationship:
Pt 1: Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader,
Pt 2: Sub!Loki x Domme!Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: 18+, oral (M & F receiving), spanking, orgasm denial
Part 1
“What are…what are you doing, Loki?”, you ask as he angrily pulls you into your room by your arm. The cocktails from the evening course through your veins, making you stumble into the darkened room.
“Did you think your actions tonight would go unnoticed by me??,” Loki sneers as he closes the door behind him and walks closer to you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”, your mind races through the evening as Loki towers over you, a menacing glare on his face. You can feel his warm breath lightly hit your cheeks as you look up at him, as you try to figure out why he’s acting like this.
It was poker night in the Avengers tower, and you can’t recall what could’ve riled Loki up so much. The night was raucous as you all blew off steam, laughing and carrying on. The evening came to an end with Tony winning the final pot to everyone’s annoyance.
Your look of confusion was obviously irritating Loki, his hands balling into fists as he glared at you.
“You informed Stark and Banner of my ‘tell’”, he sharply explained, enunciating “tell”.
“Oh that? How did you know that?” you bite your lip, trying to hold back a grin as you attempt to feign innocence while you step back, giving yourself breathing room from the irritable God. You think back an hour before, when you had joked with the two men when you had grabbed snack refills in the kitchen. Loki, naturally, had been cleaning the team out all night. So amidst the complaining in the kitchen, you offhandedly remarked to them that when he had a good hand, to watch his right eyebrow.
Loki prided himself on his ability to remain unreadable. But you knew him better, especially when he had mead.
“You thought you could obfuscate your intentions around me? That I wouldn’t notice Banner and Stark’s obvious improvement in the game?,” Loki chided you, crossing his arms.
“Are you serious?,” you scoffed. “It was just a game of poker, Loki, what’s the big deal?”, you ask incredulously as you remove your heels and make your way to your bedroom.
From behind you hear Loki sigh. The room is suddenly eerily quiet as he doesn’t respond.
“You are supposed to be loyal to me- and me only- pet. And now tonight I must remind you where your loyalties should lie”, he darkly responded, his voice lower now.
“What are you talking about?”, you turn around, indignant at his apparent tantrum. Then your eyes land on his face. Loki’s features are calmer now, but his eyes are filled with a fire that you recognize- he isn’t just mad, he’s turned on. Your eyes drift down to the prominent bulge in his tight pants. A wave of heat crashes through your body, as you realize what was probably going to come next.
“Did you really think you could betray me without my knowing? And when I discovered your recalcitrance that I would not seek to punish you?”, Loki asked, slowly walking over to your couch while removing his suit jacket. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, thinking better of it.
“Come here”, he commanded from his seat on your couch, his cool tone sending a thrill through you. A flood rushed to your core, and you’re suddenly very aware of the wetness in your panties. You loved when he was like this.
You make your way to Loki, and he quickly snaps his long arm out, grabbing your waist and forcefully bending you over his lap. You know what’s coming and you hear blood rushing in your ears in anticipation. His erection is pushed into your stomach, and a small whine escapes your lips.
Loki slowly hikes up your dress, exposing your lace covered ass. He hums in appreciation as he caresses your skin tenderly. You feel the wetness in your folds, and brace yourself for the impact about to come.
THWACK. He smacks your ass and you squeal loudly. The burning sensation spreads throughout your left cheek, making you squirm on his lap.
“Stay still and receive your punishment,” Loki grabs your wrists and holds them behind your back, making you moan.
THWACK. Another hit, his hand stretched against both cheeks. You feel your breath quicken, arousal consuming you.
THWACK. Tears well up as you feel the might of his hand landing on your ass for a third time. Loki pauses for a moment, the only sound is your breathing and quiet moans.
“And how is my pet feeling now? Do you regret working with our cohorts against me?”, Loki’s deep voice affectionately coos.
“Yes, Loki…”, you know better than to argue with him, or you’d be raw and unable to sit tomorrow.
Loki lifts you off of his lap, his prominent erection making you whimper as he carries you to your bed. He lies you down on your back, and the cool comforter feels like a balm on your sore skin. Loki slowly removes your panties, while he drops down to his knees. He gently spreads your legs, kneading your inner thighs. You know you’re already close to coming, his intense, lust-driven spanking driving you mad.
“Now you are not to hold back, I want everyone in this tower to remember where your allegiances lie,” Loki drawled as he took a large lick up your slit, moving slowly, tantalizing you.
“Oh God..” , you groaned, hips bucking into his mouth.
“That’s right, pet. I am your God, do not forget that,” he teased, nipping at your thigh. The next moment, he dips his tongue between your lips, and he feverishly devours you, licking and sucking at your folds.
You look down to see his eyes burning with angry lust, his fingers digging in harshly into your thighs. You writhe under his demanding attention, moaning and screaming his name. The pressure builds quickly, your body alight with electricity from the spankings and intensity Loki is bestowing on you.
He continues to feast on you, and you begin panting quickly, nearing the edge.
“Do you want release, pet?” Loki purred, looking at you with dangerous eyes.
“Yes…please, sir,” you moaned, on the precipice.
A dark chuckle comes from Loki as he lifts his head from your wet core. You lift your head and look at him, confused. Loki stands up, removes a silk handkerchief from his pocket, and dabs your wetness off of his face.
“No. You have not earned it. Do not touch yourself, and do not find release until I say so.”
“But..what? Loki..you can’t,” you desperately cry, propping yourself up on your elbows with pleading look.
“Oh but I can. You are not to come until I give you permission,” Loki turns with his back to you as he walks towards the door, and looks over his shoulder as he walks out.
“Good night, pet”, he flashes a devilish smile as he disappears into the darkness.
PT 2
Two whole weeks. It had been two weeks since Loki had left you dazed and on the brink of orgasm. And he had been teasing you mercilessly since. Any time he was around you, he would send you sultry glances, touch you seductively on the small of your back, or whisper in your ear. He was becoming unbearable.
On the elevator just a couple days after he had left you needy in your bed, he had pinned you up against the wall and kissed you passionately, groping you and grinding his hard length into your thigh. You would’ve let him take you right there, cameras be damned.
A week into your torment, he came on to you in the communal showers. Walking up to you with his large erection, he demanded you let him wash you. You let him, as he pushed his cock against your ass while he caressed your body with a soapy loofah. Pure torture.
And now he was grinning at you in the back of a car, as the two of you made your way to the restaurant for a birthday dinner.
“And how is my pet faring without her God to release her?,” He asked, a casual air about him as he sat close to you, his finger lightly trailing down your thigh.
“Like you care,” you snap. You are so tightly wound, you could probably come just by sheer will at this point. But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t let him win. You have a plan- and he won’t like it one bit.
“I’ve decided to give you what you need..what you crave so desperately. I expect you to be waiting for me in my quarters, midnight.”, Loki looked at you with his trademark smirk, and your eyes leered down over his bespoke suit covering him with aching perfection. Perfect, like always.
“Loki, you better not be lying because I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” your voice broke as you felt hot all over, trying not to mount him in the car right now.
Loki reaches out his hand to your chin, making you look into his eyes. He leans forward, slowly kisses you gently, as his hands cup your cheeks. You moan into his mouth as you dip your tongue into his, your hand wandering to his cock. It’s hard already. He gently grabs your hand and removes it from his lap, breaking the kiss.
“You have been so good for me, pet. I promise I will be there,” Loki assures you from his pink lips. Breathless, you nod, as the door opens and Loki steps out. A shiver runs through your body and you take his hand as the two of you get out of the car.
Then you smile to yourself, knowing what’s in store for him. After the first week, you had had enough of Loki’s teasing and enlisted help to pay him back. You had gone to Bruce, knowing he had special shackles that could restrain Loki, built with the help of Dr. Strange- and that Loki didn’t know about. You had visited Bruce in the labs, asking for the restraints.
–
“Can I borrow them? Just for a couple of hours, I want to test them out”, you smiled at Bruce, batting your eyes.
“Why? We haven’t needed them. What on earth would you need them for?”, he looked at you with a puzzled look.
You shifted, looking away as you tried to come up with a less slutty reason to need them.
“Oh ew, I don’t want to know about whatever sick things you guys are into”, Bruce made a face of disgust as he put down the soldering tools he was using.
“Please, Bruce? I promise I’ll return them. Think of it as an experiment- we won’t know they really work unless we try them on him under extreme duress..”, you smile and look hopeful at him.
“Ok fine,” Bruce sighed, unable to resist the urge to see if his invention was successful. “Let me show you how they work…”, he walked you over to the cabinets where they were stored.
“And don’t say a word of this to the others,” You looked at him sternly, pointing your finger at him.
“I don’t even want to know, so don’t worry about that.”
—-
The anticipation is killing you. You shift on the edge of his couch, facing the door. You had told everyone you had a headache, left the party early, and are now eagerly waiting for his arrival. You fidget with the controller and small metal balls in your hand. Nanotech that worked like Tony’s suit, all you had to do was turn them on and the shackles would find Loki immediately.
The door opened and Loki steps in gracefully, a proud smile on his face as he looks you once over, waiting for him.
“There’s my good girl, waiting for me like the perfect pet,” the tremble in his deep voice betrays how turned on he already is. You suspect he is probably just as needy as you. Good.
You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he pulls you tightly to him, the two of you feverishly kissing each other, the build up unbearable. You begin to suck and nip at his neck, his soft curls tickling your cheeks as you mark him.
Loki reaches his hand down under your skirt and cups your sex, feeling the dampness there under your panties. A moan slips out as you attempt to move the two of you towards the wall.
“You’re already so wet for me, pet. You’ve been so patient, I promise you will be rewarded,” Loki assures you as his back gently thuds on the wall behind him.
“I want to show you how much I appreciate you. Can I please?,” you bite his ear, and Loki moans in response as his hands on your hips tighten. His erection pushes against your stomach, and you feel the wetness in between your thighs soaking your panties. A growl emits from Loki’s chest but you fight your instincts to let him take over and fuck you relentlessly like a wild animal.
As you continue to lick and bite his neck, your hand travels to his tight slacks, finding its prize, and you suddenly feel weak in the knees. He is so hard. So hard for you, and he’s all you wanted for weeks. You could barely think about anything else.
But this wasn’t about you bending to his will anymore, this was about control. You wanted to inflict on him what you had experienced. Make him squirm, beg, and plead.
Newfound resilience flooded you, and you pull the small controller and pods from out of your pocket, turning the manacles on. They nanotech zooms from your hand, finding Loki’s wrists and transforming into large cuffs that fasten his hands firmly to the wall with loud CHUNK.
Loki’s breathing hitches, and you stop your attention on his neck.
“What–what is this pet?”, he asks as you look up at his face, which is shifting from confusion to anger.
“I told you, I really really want to show you how much I appreciate you. You deserve to be worshiped,” you smile teasingly and wink at him.
Loki pulls on the cuffs, unable to move himself, now realizing he’s totally at your mercy. He looks down at you, his pupils blown wide in intense arousal, an arrogant grin on his face.
“Of course pet, as you wish. You are always welcome to worship me as you see fit-” he gasps as you unzip and pull his aching cock out and begin to run your small hands down the length.
His eyes close as he leans his head against the wall, any fight in him gone, as he feels you deliver him the pleasure he knows he deserves.
“I just thought tonight I’d take things slow and make them extra special for you”, you hummed, beginning to pepper kisses on his hot skin of his length. His cock is bright red, precum already beading the tip as you lick gently.
“Mmmm you have a devious mind pet…”, Loki trails off, lost in the moment of feeling your hot mouth wrap around his painfully hard member, just aching to come down your throat.
You increase your speed, sucking and stroking where your hand cannot reach. Moans begin to spill out of Loki’s mouth, and find yourself feeling faint. His smell, his taste, is overpowering after all of your restraint.
You feel the ridges of his hot cock against your tongue, as you push your head against his stomach as far as you can go. Tears are beginning to burn your eyes as you choke and sputter, taking your mouth off of him to give your jaw a break.
You look up at Loki and appreciate the disheveled state that he’s in, his chest heaving and sweat beading on his forehead. Momentarily you think of changing your plan, letting him come in your throat like he so desperately wants. No, almost there. He looks down at you as you continue to suck on him, massaging his balls. He’s getting close, you can tell by the way his hips are jerking forward.
You suck up his length one more time, release his cock with a “Pop!” sound. His eyes are now fixed on you, his hair messy and falling around his face, framing his tensely set jaw. You stare back at him, a wry smile on your face as you lean back, gently running just the tips of your fingers down his length.
“Darling…please..” he looks down at you with pleading eyes, his eyebrows slanted. You feel your cunt clench, his neediness turning you on more than you thought it could.
You stand up slowly, taking in the scene in front of you- Loki continues to pant, his weeping cock just moments from coming as he looks at you with confusion and desperation.
“Good night, sir,” you smile at him, turning your back to him as he’s left speechless, hot, and ready to burst. You quickly leave the room, and hear a primal, angry scream erupt from behind you, sending a chill down your spine.
Could you do one of loki in a tattoo parlour with the quote "if you keep moving like that we will have a problem." With smut please? Thought the reader could be getting a tattoo across the shoulders and loki is sat right against her ass and whenever he hits a soft spot she wriggles her ass or even moans, if that's okay. I love your writing by the way! ❤
Well this ruined me. Tattoo artist Loki?!
Thank you so much for your kind request and for bringing tattooed Loki into my life! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did putting it together 🖤
This fic is a part of A Dark Celebration.
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Loki x fem!Reader
Words: 6,256 (I couldn't stop, okay!)
Summary: After a stroke of luck, you manage land an appointment with the legendary tattoo artist, Loki Laufeyson.
This is work of fiction is 18+!!!!, and contains graphic descriptions of sex, HOURS OF TEASING, fingering, sex (m/f), dirty talk, and it mentions the tattoo process aka needles. Please do not interact if you are a minor or are sensitive towards any of the themes mentioned above.
Tagging: @lokistoriesblog @sineads-art
Thank you so freaking much to my followers for all of the amazing requests for this challenge! Likes, reblogs and comments mean more than you know 🖤
~~~
You scrolled through the instagram page for the tenth time that day. You peered over the intricately laced designs tattooed so delicately on the skin. Each design was unique, beautiful, perfect in an imperfect way.
No one could hold a candle to the way he tattooed. No one could hold a candle to Loki Laufeyson.
~~~
“The guy’s a vampire,” your friend had told you over drinks once. “He only takes appointments at night, alone in his private studio. He refuses to let anyone in his space except the client.”
“Sounds like more of an axe murderer to me,” you mused. “You’ve got to admit he’s talented. I’ve never seen even a hint of blowout on his lines. And those designs- unique and seriously fucking detailed.” You took a sip of your drink, shifting the glass between your fingers. “If I ever got a tattoo it’d be one of his.”
Your friend smiled pitifully at you. “If you ever get an appointment you mean. He is good though. I’ve seen some of his work from over a decade ago and it still holds up. May be worth being drained of all your blood after all. Too bad he rarely takes appointments anymore.”
~~~
You bit your lip, absentmindedly toying with the raw hem of your shorts as you tapped through the familiar photos of his page. You’d almost memorised each post.
You swiped up to the one you saw by chance a few weeks back. Your heart raced as you remembered seeing it mere seconds after it was posted. He had a cancellation for an appointment at the end of the month. You could book via email.
You immediately shot off an email to the address provided, assuming nothing would come of it. Then the unthinkable happened. You got a response about a minute later, asking for a deposit to hold a spot for you.
You had the money saved for a few years now and forwarded it off immediately. It wasn’t real until you got the scheduling email from his assistant, telling you that “he’d love to freehand something like that on you.”
He’d never posted a photo of himself, and there weren’t any snapshots in the range of magazines he’d been interviewed in. The only posts on his page were of the work he’d done on clients, and the odd text post update presumably posted by his assistant. There was one particularly good shot of his hands in Inked Mag a few months back, the black gloves straining against his long fingers as he held a tattoo gun.
You took a deep breath, checking the time again. You could probably head over now.
Zipping up your knee-high boots and sliding on your jacket, you left your apartment, your stomach full of butterflies.
~~~
You made it to the painted brick building five minutes before your appointment. It was a stand-alone, one-floor building painted black. The tinted windows and lack of sign made for a stylish, discrete shop.
Double checking the lengthy email his assistant had sent you a week ago, you typed in the code on the keypad and were met with a loud buzz. Gripping the door handle, you stepped inside, greeted by a space that was breathtakingly well designed.
The cool concrete floors were accented by various sculptures, photographs, and expensive-looking plants. You could hear the distant sound of Joy Division’s “Disorder” echoing through the space. There was a dark brown couch by the front door, which you remembered was the area you were instructed to wait in.
You slid onto the leather, your hands clammy. You tried to calm yourself, nervous for both your first tattoo and finally meeting the elusive Loki Laufeyson. You took a deep breath. God you hoped you didn’t faint.
Before you could spin out any further you heard footsteps coming around the corner. Looking up, you swallowed hard at the man in front of you. He was tall, lithe, and dark-haired, his black trousers and pointed leather boots making his legs look endless, his crisp white shirt tucked in perfectly. His sleeves were rolled up to expose forearms covered in tattoos, all in black ink. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing a fair amount of his chest, littered with more black designs that ran up to his neck, stopping just below his sharp jaw. You could make out the tip of a green tattoo at the base of his sternum though you didn’t dare to linger your gaze there long. His hair was slicked back into a low bun, the dark black of it a sharp contrast against his pale skin. His cheekbones were pronounced, his dark brows accenting his clear, blue-green eyes.
“Are you my seven o’clock?” His voice was deep velvet, his accent crisp. He held his hands in his pockets, forearms flexing as he looked down at you with bright eyes and a hint of a smirk. Fuck. You were in trouble.
“I think so,” you smiled, losing yourself in his gaze.
“Loki,” he offered a hand and you stood to take it. You stumbled over your name as your hand slid into his, the feel of his warm, calloused hands against yours made your heart race.
“Nervous?” He asked, his eyes running up from where he held your hand steady.
Fuck.
“A bit,” you smiled. “This is my first time.”
His eyes widened at that. “I’m honoured. It’s not often someone asks for such a big piece for their first tattoo.”
He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it from his grip. “This way, darling. Promise I’ll be gentle.” He gave you a grin before leading you towards the back of the building behind the large wall separating the shop.
You took in the room before you, the open space well-decorated with modern, comfortable-looking furniture. There was a sturdy, sleek tattoo bed in the middle, with a large trifold mirror against the side wall. Your eyes fell onto the record player, the antique thing holding a stack of vinyl discs above the turntable as it spun. The large speakers were playing “Candidate” off the same album. There was a Japanese style garden through the back window, a warm light illuminating the few plants immaculately kept before a dark concrete wall.
“You’ve eaten recently, right?” He asked from behind you.
You turned to him and nodded, remembering the advice your friends had given you to prepare for the process. “I’ve kept hydrated too.”
He smiled. “Good girl.”
You did your best to ignore the way those two words made your heart race. You made your way to the centre of the room where a sleek tattoo bed was set up. The black padded leather of it looked soft and comfortable, covered in a dark sheet.
“Take off your top half and lay down on the table. Leave those boots on if you want,” he paused. “I’ve got a sheet there for you. I’ll give you a moment to get undressed, okay?”
You turned towards him and noticed his eyes flickered up to your face. Had you just caught him checking you out? You quickly shook it off as you gave him a small smile and a nod.
He spun on his heel and his footsteps followed him out of the room. You slipped off your jacket, your top and bra quickly following, placing them with your bag on the seat by the wall. You laid down on the sheet covering the bed and perched your head atop your folded arms, angling it to look out the window towards the garden. You took a breath, feeling your muscles loosen on the exhale.
After a minute you heard his footsteps approaching. “Are you decent, darling?” He called.
“You’re clear.” You watched him approach from the reflection in the glass. You could see his eyes moving over your form and wondered once again if his gaze had lingered a little over you.
He came to your side, pulling on some black surgical gloves. You looked up at his hands, straining against the nitrile of the gloves. Just like the picture. You squirmed a little at the thought.
You didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered down to your waist momentarily before he sat in the stool facing you.
“I’m going to have to shave the area first. Is that alright with you?”
You nodded. “Sounds good.”
You heard a cap snap a few seconds before you felt his hands rubbing over your shoulders, covering your skin with shaving cream. It took you every bit of will not to moan at his touch. His hands felt like heaven on you. You felt yourself grow wet at the idea of his sinking his hands lower, or having you turn over and-
“Okay, so you mentioned in your email that you wanted some snakes and peonies. Do you have colour preferences? Any type of snake in mind?” His hands were gone, replaced by the feeling of a safety razor dragging across your back.
You licked your dry lips. “I was thinking of a deep red for the peonies. As for the snakes, I don’t know- really anything but a garden snake I suppose.”
He chuckled. “I was thinking of something a little more dangerous.” The movement of the razor stopped. “How’s this?” He showed you a photo on his phone, a brown snake with black stripes going from its wide, flat head to its skinny tail.
“She’s a beauty,” you angled yourself up slightly to get a better look, your front still mostly covered. “What species?”
“A death adder. Nocturnal,” he put his phone down then rubbed your back lightly with a cloth. “Quick to strike, it’s one of the most venomous snakes in the world.”
You looked up to give him a curious grin. “What made you choose this snake?”
“You seem like trouble.” He met your gaze momentarily and smirked.
You bit the inside of your cheek. “Tough talk from the guy who’s about to jab me with a needle for four hours.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “You’ve got me there.”
He stepped around to the other side of you and you heard him uncap a marker. You could feel him start to mark up your back, one gloved hand firm against you. You could smell the slightest hint of him, a combination of something peppery and deep, almost cool.
“So what made you decide to get a tattoo?”
“I’ve always wanted one,” you closed your eyes, focusing on his movements. “But I wanted to find the right artist and commit, you know? Let them run with something.”
“A purist,” he commented, sweeping a line across your shoulder blade.
You smiled against your hand. “I guess I like what you do, and I like how you do it.”
“So,” he guided one of your hands from under your chin, laying it by your side. “How does it feel to be the ideal client?”
“Hmm, pretty much the same. Do you have any gold stars?”
He chuckled, sketching more lines on you, these ones felt curved. He sighed, “that’s why I stopped taking so many appointments.” He came over to the other side of you. “I love tattooing,” another stroke, his other hand smoothing down your spine, “but I don’t love customer service.” He swapped your arms, bringing your left down by your side.
“I get it,” you suppressed a shiver from the feel of his hands running over your back. “And now?”
“Much calmer. I take a maximum of four clients a week,” you stilled at the feel of his breath over your shoulder, his pen stroked focused. In the reflection of the glass you could see his form bent over you. You swallowed hard. “I can take my time with it and do things right. Speaking of which,” you heard him cap the marker, “time to take a look.”
You sat up, holding the sheet to your front as you followed him over to the set of mirrors. He guided you onto a wooden step in the middle, and you caught a glimpse of the lines he’d drawn on you. He angled one slightly and your mouth fell open at the sketch of the two snakes, one over either shoulder, their tails intertwining between your shoulder blades. He’d drawn rough peonies and leaves to accent their shape, already beautiful and complimentary to your form.
“Wow.” You turned, catching his eye. He was leaning up against the mirror, hands in his pockets as he watched you, the tiniest hint of something simmering behind his gaze. “I love it, Loki.” You found it hard to keep your cool as you faced him, knowing he’d just sketched out an insanely beautiful design in under 10 minutes.
“Thank you, darling. Are you ready to start?” He held out a hand for yours, helping you off the polished step.
“More than.”
He led you back to the table, bringing an angular pillow wrapped in black silk for your front. He helped you prop yourself up so you could lay comfortably.
He pulled a stool over to your side, adjusting it before pulling on a new pair of gloves and turning to squeeze out some blank ink into a little cup on his side table. He picked up the tattoo gun, adjusting his setup so the cord would allow him more reach.
His eyes searched yours. “Take a deep breath for me, okay?”
You nodded and filled your lungs with air.
He turned and the gun started to buzz. In your periphery you could see he’d brought it closer to your skin. “Breathe out.”
You did as you were told and felt a vibrating little scratch on your shoulder, almost as if a cat was scratching your skin. It got a bit harder but it wasn’t unbearable, more annoying than painful.
“Good girl.”
You took in another deep breath at that, the velvet of his voice pushing the feeling further away. You could feel him leaning over you, one hand firm on your back.
“You’re doing so well,” he spoke by your ear, eliciting goosebumps. With that voice, he could talk you into anything. “It doesn’t hurt too much, does it darling?”
You shifted a little. “No,” the distant pain and his voice drawling in your ear had your breath uneven. You bit your lip, feeling yourself grow wet from the combined sensations. “It doesn’t really hurt at all.” Your voice sounded small in your ears.
“I promised I’d be gentle,” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Try to relax a little more, and keep your eyes forward for me. That’s it, right there. Perfect.” He whispered that last word and you held in a little whine.
You let your eyes slip closed, trying to focus on something other than him- his hands, his scent, the warmth of his body radiating against you.
You fell into an easy conversation through the outlining process, though every now and then he’d come a little closer to tell you something, his breath on your shoulder forcing you to grip the pillow harder. Each time he whispered a word of encouragement in your ear you could hear a hint of a smirk in his voice, as if his comments weren’t entirely innocent.
“And,” he added another long line above your shoulder blade, “there we are. Lovely.” He looked at you from his stool, smiling and nodding. “Let’s take a break.”
He got up, stretching as he went, discarding his gloves, massaging his hands. He stepped over to the record player, the stack once elevated now fully on the turntable as it spun. “What kind of music do you like?” He asked, flipping through the shelves full of records in the back.
“A little bit of everything, really. Wait, is this a test?” You asked, rolling your neck to relieve some tension. You took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm yourself after the past hour or so. You could feel how wet you were as you rolled your hips a bit, working out one of the many knots your body had formed while trying to hold yourself still. You sighed.
You looked back over to him, he was leaning against the shelves, the stack in his hand frozen in place as his gaze slid along your body. You gripped the pillow a bit, your heart beating fast. His eyes met yours and he smirked, his forearms flexing as he continued to flip through the catalogues. “No test, just wondering if you’d like to hear something specific.” He kept flipping through records, choosing one every now and then to rest on top of the growing stack elevated above the turntable.
“I guess if I could put in a request with the management, I’d ask for a little Warpaint.”
He smiled before he turned to pull out a record, flashing the cover at you. “Management says good choice.”
He placed the vinyl on top of the stack then flipped the switch, the machine dropping the bottom record onto the turntable. He came back over to you. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, a little stiff,” you stretched your shoulders back, feeling your muscles loosen a bit.
“Let’s move you,” he nodded towards an angled chair, and your rolled up off the bed, wincing at the distant ache in your body. You loosely held the sheet to your chest, still rolling your shoulders as you settled into the seat, your chest supported by the leather platform in front. The new position definitely felt more comfortable, and you felt your muscles relax into the support of the chair.
Loki came up behind you, lowering his stool to be level with the seat. “Here,” he handed you a glass of orange juice. “Drink this. I’m going to put some numbing cream on you before I start the colour.” He carefully rubbed some cream onto your skin with his gloved hands. You shivered lightly, the pain fading almost immediately as you drank the juice.
“Good girl,” he nodded, taking your empty glass from you. “I won’t lie to you,” he got to work assembling reds, greens, browns, and orange inks from a cabinet. “Shading and colour usually hurts a bit more.” He brought over a sterile package, opening it and holding it up between you. “I need to use a few more needles.” The cluster looked menacing but you nodded. How bad could it be?
He gave you a reassuring smile once you met his gaze. He turned to assemble the dyes in more small cups, and swapped out the head of the tattoo gun with the needle he’d shown you. He wrapped everything back up in sterile cloth and tape. Before moving his setup closer to your new position and settling in his seat by your side.
He turned to you, his face level with yours. He was close, his gaze travelling up from your lips. “Tell me if I need to stop, okay?” His brows were drawn together, eyes serious.
“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly finding it a bit hard to breathe.
“Try to relax,” he rested his hand on your leg. You nodded gently, holding your breath as you kept your eyes on his. “No shame in coming back again to finish things up.” He brought his hand away, rolling his shoulders back as he shot you a grin. “I wouldn’t say no to seeing you again, darling.”
You smiled at him and nodded. You took a deep breath and straightened your posture as he moved behind you, his knees warm on either side of you.
“Ready?” His voice drawled in your ear once more.
“Yes,” you breathed, leaning into the leather a little more. You heard the telltale buzz of the needle and winced as it hit your skin, letting out the breath you’d unknowingly held. Okay, you thought, fuck this hurt a lot more.
“How’s the pain?” You distantly felt his free hand wiping away gently at your skin between strokes.
“It’s definitely worse,” you bit your lip, squirming a bit.
“Don’t focus on it. Relax,” he came up a bit closer to you. You could feel his legs against your own, his trousers soft against the bare skin of your lower thighs. “That’s it, good girl. Relax, just listen to my voice. You’re doing so well.”
You felt him stiffen- and you realised you’d absentmindedly moved your hips back against him. You shifted forward and gripped the leather, taking deep breaths.
“There we go,” he spoke by your ear, “just breathe through it.”
You focused on your breath, but couldn’t help letting out a little whimper. You felt absolutely overwhelmed. The pain was one thing, but the feel of him behind you, so very close, had your heart racing.
He stopped to pick up more ink before coming back over to you. “It’s looking good,” he felt closer to you now.
You moved your hips again, half out of discomfort, the other half out of most of your thoughts slipping away as you felt him against you.
This time he kept going, though you could feel his strained breath against you.
He kept on for a few minutes, before stopping to pick up more ink. Coming back, he drew some repetitive circles and you gasped, gripping the leather tight between your fingers, your hips pressing back farther.
“Fuck,” he sighed, pulling back the needle. “If you keep moving like that we will have a problem.” His voice was rough against your ear.
You could hear the exasperation in his voice. You felt high- the pain, the heat between you two finally too much. You kept your hips angled back against him. You were keenly aware of your situation, essentially naked except for your leather boots and shorts. Pushing your hips back farther, you turned to the side, looking him up and down. “Like this?” You moved a little more against him.
The buzzing stopped and he set the tattoo gun down on the side table. He pulled off his gloves and ran his hands down your sides before stopping at your hips and pulling them back against him. “You are playing a very dangerous game, darling.” His voice was low, full of warning.
You could feel how hard he was behind you and instinctively rocked yourself back against him. “I’m sorry,” you gasped.
“I don’t think you are,” he brushed his fingers down your exposed thighs.
“You’re right,” you gripped his knees through his trousers. “I’m not.”
“Wicked little thing,” he hissed then backed up and helped you out of the chair, his eyes hungrily taking in your exposed chest. “I knew you were going to be trouble.”
“Likewise,” you eyed him up and down, before he pulled you to him, sliding one hand along your hip to press against your lower back. He brought the other up to graze your cheekbone lightly, fingers slipping down towards your jaw. He angled your chin so your lips were inches away from his. He held you there, his chest heavy against you as his eyes searched your own, his expression dark.
“Is this what you wanted?” He slid a leg between yours and you whined at the sensation.
You swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“Do you want me to fuck you, darling? Right here?”
“Please,” you breathed.
He quickly closed the gap between you, kissing you hard, your hips rolling against his. He swallowed your moans, his teeth dragging across your bottom lip. He pulled away, breathing hard against your lips. “Take off everything but the boots and lie on the table. Face down. Like before.”
You let out a shaky breath and did as you were told, sliding the shorts off before your damp panties. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, watching you darkly as he leant against the side table, one arm over his midsection, the other angled up as he rested his thumb against his lips.
You laid over your hands, letting out a little gasp as your skin stretched and moved. You were faced away from him, but watched in the reflection as he put on another pair of gloves and brought a bottle over. You felt him spray your shoulders with something, gently wiping it away before he returned with a little tub. You could feel him smearing something over your sensitive skin.
“Apologies darling,” he rasped into your ear and you whined. “But I couldn’t fuck you properly without covering this up.” He covered the area with a bandage then some medical tape, securing it to your skin before peeling off his gloves.
“Now,” he was back beside you, “be a good girl and stay still for me.”
“Okay,” you whispered, your thighs pressing together.
“Relax.” He let his fingertips trail up and down your spine, eliciting a shiver from you. You relaxed your muscles, consciously letting yourself melt into the bed below you. You let out a little hum at the feeling, most of the tension you’d built up slipping away.
“That’s it, good girl.” His lips ghosted against the shell of your ear and you felt an electric warmth spreading through you. “You don’t know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off of you, darling. Every little whine,” his fingers moved down your spine, this time trailing them lower. “Every little gasp,” he brought his fingers even lower, curving them along the inside of your thigh, inches from your dripping heat. “Every little tremble had me wanting to hear more. To see more. It made me curious,” he lightly trailed a finger up your slit and you inhaled sharply. “Will you let out those lovely little gasps as you come undone on my fingers?” Quickly finding your clit, he gently rubbed it in small circles as he took your earlobe between his teeth, flicking his tongue against it. You moaned, the sound loud in the empty room. He drew back, “I wonder, darling, what you’ll look like when I make you cum on my cock.”
Your breath was heavy, and you were whimpering, already so close.
“Loki I’m-“
“I know. You’re fucking dripping.” His voice was making your head spin, and when he dipped a finger within you you saw stars. “All for me?”
You swallowed and nodded, your fingertips diffing into the leather as you held yourself still.
“And how long has this pretty cunt been wet and ready for me?” He traced his tongue along the shell of your ear as he added another finger to lightly tease your dripping hole.
You tried to answer, you really did. But you found yourself completely overwhelmed, every coherent thought gone.
He slowly moved his fingers within you, curling the digits as he went. You were mewling, your hips absentmindedly angling up to meet him. “Oh, pet. Has it been hours?”
You whined in response and he chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t make you wait much longer.” With that he picked up the pace, and hit that sweet spot deep within you repeatedly. You were moaning, the frantic sound of your breath and his movements filling the air.
He angled your legs apart a little more and brought his other hand under you to lightly tease your clit. You cried out at the sensation, your fingers aching from their grip on the bed. “That’s it- fuck. You’re gripping my fingers so tightly. Come on, be a good girl for me and cum.”
His words sent you so far over the edge, your vision went black as you froze, the pleasure hitting you hard. You were crying out a mixture of curse words and his name over and over, your hips eventually riding it out against his hand.
As your breath returned to normal, you turned to look up at him. He smirked down at you, bringing his fingers to your lips. You quickly took them in your mouth, swirling your tongue over them as you held his gaze.
His smirk fell at that, brows knitting together. His jaw was hard as he watched you suck his fingers. He pulled them from your lips, and helped you sit up.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, restrained. You could see the bulge in his pants and felt a shiver run through you.
“Pretty fucking excellent.” You were surprised at the gravel in your voice. “But I don’t think we’re done here.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow.
“No.” You stood, stepping closer to him to press your chest against his. He was still fully clothed, his shirt still perfectly pressed.
“Tell me, darling. What else do you need?” He kept still, his expression daring.
“I need you to fuck me.”
He tilted his head, a slow, filthy grin spreading across his lips.
“Please.” You finished.
In a flash he’d captured your lips, his fingers holding your jaw as he held you to him. He teased you with his lips and tongue, making you whimper against him, your hands gripping the thin cotton of his shirt.
Still holding your jaw, he pulled away to kiss your neck, nipping and biting at the skin between kisses. Moving away, he led you over to a couch on the far side of the room, sitting down before pulling you on top of his lap. You held yourself above him, admiring him.
“Come here.” Hand sliding from your knees on either side of him up to your waist, he brought you down to settle over him, your hands smoothing against his chest. Holding his gaze, you slowly unbuttoned his shirt before undoing his belt and pants. He was watching you closely, his chest heaving with his slow breath.
You took him out, breaking eye contact to look at his cock. “Fuck,” you whispered. His skin felt like silk under your fingers, the hardened length of him heavy and hot in your hand. Your eyes traced up to his abdomen, finally seeing his chest piece, a green snake coiled around itself surrounded by the black ink of his other tattoos.
Raising your gaze to his face, you were struck at the sight of him, his eyes heavy lidded, bright blue-green now darkening with your touch. Although his body was covered in ink, you could still see the fine, long musculature under his skin. His jaw clenched as he leant back against the couch, eyes burning a cool flame as he watched you.
He slid a condom out of his pocket, pinching the package between two fingers. You took it from him, unwrapped it and rolled it onto him, his length twitching in your hands as you did so. You licked your lips before looking back up to him.
Gripping your ass, he guided you over him. God, those fucking hands felt so warm against you, his long fingers pressing into your flesh.
Not wanting to wait another second, you slowly slid onto his cock, shuddering in pleasure. Taking him inch by inch, he stretched you, eventually filling you completely. You groaned and took a moment to adjust, your fingertips digging into his shoulder.
“Christ,” he breathed, his mouth hanging open to accommodate his quickened breath. He shook his head at you, his eyes flickering over your chest. “You’re too fucking lovely.”
You twitched a little around him, bending to kiss him. He slid his hand onto your lower back and shifted to press you flush against him, your clit hitting the base of his cock. You inhaled sharply, your hips angling themselves to get more contact.
You had your hand splayed across the side of his neck, your thumb just under his jaw. Holding you tight against him, he broke the kiss to lick against your lips briefly before he started moving his hips up into yours.
You could feel your eyes roll back at the sensation, the angle he held you in somehow hitting you in places you’d never felt. “Loki, fuck-“ you breathed, pulling back to find him darkly staring up at you, his expression hard. You held one hand on his shoulder, the other flat against his chest as you took each thrust he gave you.
He brought one hand up against your breast, his eyes not leaving yours as he pinched your nipple between his fingers, causing you to squirm harder against him. “That pretty cunt is so wet for me, darling. Is this what you needed?”
You nodded, your chest heaving as you arched your back to press harder against his hand.
He let out a breath. “You’re gripping me so fucking tightly. Are you going to cum again?”
“Yes- please,” you breathed, “please don’t stop.”
“Not until you cum. I need you to cum on this cock. I need you to come undone for me.”
You whined, so very close. You cried out when he lightly rubbed his thumb against your clit.
“Be my good girl,” he growled, “and cum for me again.”
You moved your hips with his once, twice, three times before you were screaming, an intense pleasure hitting you so hard that your fingers went numb as they clawed weakly at his chest.
“That’s it, fuck-“ he groaned, holding you hard against him as he came with you.
You fell forward against his chest, the both of you out of breath, still twitching from the aftershocks.
You distantly heard Warpaint’s “Whiteout” in the background, the record just hitting the needle. He was running his fingers lightly up your spine, the feeling comforting you.
“Darling,” he spoke, his voice rumbling against your chest, sending a tremble through you.
You leant backwards, wincing a little as you did so, your muscles weak. He held you steady, smirking up at you.
“Don’t you want to see your tattoo?”
Your eyes widened, realising you’d never gotten the chance to see what he’d done. “Shit- I really, really do.” You slowly got up from his lap, his strong hands supporting you.
You walked over to your panties and shorts and slid them on over your boots. You turned to find him waiting by the mirrors, his pants on but his shirt still unbuttoned. He had one arm up against the side as he leant on them, his other hand in his pocket.
“Come here,” he smiled, his eyes running over your still topless form.
You strode over to him and he nodded to the little step. You stepped up and stood still as he peeled off the bandage.
“It isn’t quite finished- there’s still a lot of shading and colour to be done,” he warned. You could sense a bit of nerves in his voice.
You smiled at him through the mirror as he angled the one on the side so you could get a good look of your shoulders. When you caught sight of it your mouth fell open. “Holy shit.”
It was the most intricate work you’d ever seen. A snake on either shoulder, both done in such a beautifully artistic way, so detailed yet they held a hint of abstraction. Their bodies were posed similarly, but you could see he’d added little differences in their scales, eyes and heads. One’s tongue was flicked out slightly, the dainty pointed fork just peeking out from its lips. Their positioning was also altered slightly so it almost looked natural but still remained beautifully symmetrical, their curved bodies accenting your shoulders perfectly. You could make out a branch that he’d added in, the delicate peonies blooming from it as it held the bodies of the twisting serpents. You could see where he’d reached with the shading, the body of one snake partially filled.
“Loki, I-“ you shook your head. “I don’t know what to say. This is more than I could have ever imagined.”
He was smiling from the edge of the mirror, one long leg crossed over the other.
“I absolutely love it.” You turned to him, your eyes searching his, the swirling blue-greens bright once more. “Thank you.”
He tilted his head down, a wide grin across his lips. “You’re more than welcome.”
He helped you off the step and covered you back up. You put on your shirt, not risking the band of your bra rubbing up against your sensitive skin.
He walked with you back to the front of the space, helping you into your coat.
“So, I guess I should book a follow up. Maybe 2 or 3 weeks?” You asked, holding your purse in your hands. You wanted to see him again, but you kept your expectations low. You knew from your friends that a second session couldn’t start until you’d sufficiently healed from the first.
“Here’s my personal number,” he picked a card and pen up off the coffee table, writing on it before handing it to you. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow, darling? We can sort it all out then. Same time, around 7?”
You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation.
You stepped forward and kissed him, your hands snaking up to his shoulders to hold him close. He gripped your hip, his other hand caressing your cheek as he held you to him, his lips still teasingly slow against yours.
You moved to rest your forehead against his, your breath mingling.
“Tomorrow then,” you whispered, licking and biting his lower lip before pulling away. You stepped back, sliding one hand along his forearm as you moved towards the door.
He licked his lips, shaking his head at you. “Trouble.”
“Likewise.” You gave him one last smile before slipping out into the cool night air.
Part II here.
Author's Note: Serious question- do we think Loki kept slipping in "good girl" to fuck with the reader? Cause I think yes.
I like to think his snake tattoo is a green adder (which is also venomous af) and he chose the death adder so reader would match.
I drew on a lot of my personal experience with my first tattoo for this. Especially the part about shading/colouring hurting a lot more than the outline. No one told me this and holy fuck it hurt! Especially after the outline.
for the oneshot game thing: the title "daggers" + loki 💕
pairings: loki x reader, mentions of wanda maximoff, thor odinson, natasha romanoff, sam wilson, and bruce banner
warnings: loki’s daggers, i think that’s all? it's mostly fluff and oblivious lol
about: title request- daggers
a/n: finally finished! i actually really like how this came out- until the ending. i think i may just be incapable of writing a definitive happy ending for my darling god :(
loki and his belongings were off-limits. it was an unspoken rule announced in a booming voice every ten minutes. the god himself enforced it every time anyone came into the vicinity of his things, a scowl and his magic- activated by a single twirl of his hand- driving away any ideas someone could have dared to come up with.
not even thor was exempt to this rule, proven by the blade protruding from his side when he had come into loki’s room unannounced, fingers already tangled in his items within the first few minutes he had been inside.
loki’s things were not to be touched, barely even looked at; it was a rule.
but rules have exceptions, and it turned out you were this one’s.
thor was the first one to figure it out, first inkling coming from the time he spotted you with loki’s great treasure- the brilliantly blue tesseract- resting in your hands while you stared at it in awe. you were slumped down on the couch after a long mission that had left you sore and sad, even your favorite show unable to console you. it usually took you a few days to bounce back, although your heart was a little more chipped than before.
however, that day was different; loki was there. loki, who, to his surprise, despised seeing you so melancholy, and decided that the situation would just not do. and who better than a god to hold your hands and lift you to your feet? a god who held the same thing you had asked excitedly about the first time you heard about it.
so, he frowned at you and flicked his hand, a small whirlpool appearing above it and dropping his beloved tesseract into his waiting hand. you had gaped at him, startled eyes flicking from him to the cube you thought shield had safely stored away in one of its facilities. “shield thinks a lot of things, my pet,” loki had muttered simply and offered you the glowing tesseract, urging you to hold it. “r- really?” you asked, reaching for it once you got his faux annoyed confirmation and marvelling at it. “wow,” you had whispered, before smiling at loki, “thank you, loki.”
-
natasha noticed when she’d see you sneak into his room in the night- when the only thing preventing the dark sky above you to swallow you whole were the bright littered stars, observing as you took his offered book from his outstretched hand. watching as you read a few chapters yourself before ultimately deciding you liked it much better when loki was the one that read to you, velvet voice bringing the words to life, and wonderful magic making pretty images for you to look at.
steve and tony realized when they spotted you inside his room, a wide grin taking up half your face while you eyed the gold horns resting carefully in your hand. the pair had frozen in the hallway, arguing voices falling silent as they struggled to see through the sliver between the door and the doorframe. steve was seconds away from pushing the door open to remind you of The Rule when another pair of fingertips touched yours, a different voice mixing gently with yours. pale fingers lifted the headpiece from your grasp, turning it and placing it on your head with the care no one believed loki was capable of.
your gasp snapped them out of it, fearful that it was pointed at them rather than at your reflection.
sam and wanda noticed when they recognized loki’s ring on your finger. an accidental look into your mind confirmed that it had been dotingly slipped on barely two nights before, after having seen the ring on one of loki’s own digits and twirled it in circles in anxiety enough times to realize how it was always there- which was why it was so surprising when he offered it to you a morning after you had spent the night curled up with him.
he had watched as you fingered the ring he had left on his nightstand, interested eyes following every ridge and indent as if trying to commit it to memory. you had refused at first, but he had had none of it, taking it from your attentive hold and delicately putting it on your finger. he had pressed his lips to your knuckles, although you were too oblivious to see how serious his eyes truly were, how honest the truth of his actions were.
-
you were the last to see it, of course, and it came when shocked eyes fell on you while you handled sharp blades with nimble fingers. “what are you doing?-” banner asked you, eyes wide, startling realization of what exactly the weapons were and who they belonged to suddenly coming to him. had he not been as scared of loki as he had, he would’ve taken them from you and dragged you off to escape the god’s wrath.
you frowned at him, pausing your actions. “just playing with loki’s daggers, they’re really impressive, look.” you grabbed the sharp side and lightly pushed bruce’s chest with the handle, making him flinch back. “you can’t touch those- do you know how much he likes them?”
you nodded, “i do, and i see why,” you bring them back to you, holding them correctly as you observed them. “you’re not supposed to touch any of his stuff,” bruce informed you, looking to the hallway leading to the elevator. “why not?” you question, genuinely concerned you had been overstepping.
“because he likes them and he doesn’t like us.”
your eyes flicker down to the ring you’re still wearing, the ghost of the weight of loki’s elegant horns settling on the crown of your head like the night he had placed them there. the realization hits you, making your eyelids flutter, daggers nearly falling from your hold when loki himself walks in, indifferent to the fact you’re in possession of his beloved daggers. bruce warningly gestures to them, oblivious, once more before walking off awkwardly, ignoring loki’s narrowed eyes in his direction.
noticing the look in your eyes, loki tilts his head, walking towards you, “is something wrong, darling?” he queries. you blink, the image of your favorite god clearer as you smile. “no,” you reply, “nothing’s wrong,” you reassure, glancing back at the daggers that make your soft smile grow, “everything’s perfect.”
and it was- especially when you kissed him two days letter, and everything his became yours, too (although it already was).
Summary: How about a fluffy Loki x reader: they find out that she is pregnant, and Loki turns overprotective - carrying her, not allowing her to lift things, constantly asking if she needs anything and so on. Not used to being treated like a china doll ( and some amount of hormones stirring), reader finally snaps at him! But Loki keeps on being a total sweetheart towards his lover…
There is one chair in the entire compound that solely belonged to Loki. It was an unsuspecting chair, one accidently sat upon many times by various heros, villains, normies, and once or twice an animal that turned out to actually not be an animal. But once one knew of his claim to the seat that you jokingly called his "Midgardian Throne" it wasn't likely they'd sit there again.
So it was really weird when Loki offered you his spot.
It felt like a trick, very well could be a trick seeing as being Loki's girlfriend did not grant you immunity to his mischievous ways. You eyed the god suspiciously as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, splayed his other hand over your hip, and gently guided you to his favorite place.
"I'll just sit on the couch Loki it's not big deal."
You tried to excuse yourself from his odd embrace, something you didn't normally do, but Loki made it difficult to wiggle away. While he didn't squeeze you any tighter to the point of feeling the change in pressure he did become more solid in a way only an Asgardian could when they were being stubborn. He let out an audible but gentle hush sound that made you tense and alert rather than calm as probably intended.
"No, no, darling, I insist. You need to be comfortable and that couch is," he spared it a disdainful glare, "unacceptable."
"Pete and I like it just fine thank you very much." You countered.
The chair had to be fake. You were going to be forced onto the seat by Loki only to fall right through the funiture and onto the floor. It had to be an illusion. Or maybe Loki himself was the illusion and he was sitting in wait on the chair, ready for you to fall into his lap so he could tease you the way he does when he's feeling naughty and exhibitionist. Currently, you didn't know which would be worse. If the chair ended up being an illusion you knew you would cry. You had been feeling sensitive, emotionally raw, and your mood had been switching as fast as Peter was flicking through the channels. If Loki was in fact sitting in the chair you would have to let him down easy before he could get far. It was not only your emotions that were sensitive, it was your body, particularly your breasts. It felt like any contact was amplified with pain and for once you did not want Loki's long fingers inching their way up under your shirt.
"Loki, I'm not sitting there so just let me go sit on the couch!"
There was a mood swing, you were trying to handle this calmly but the idea of taking one step closer to that chair had you shrill and wide-eyed looking for a means to escape the situation. You twisted your body, maneuvering it away from Loki with entirely too many collisions. It felt like a sunburn someone had just smacked with an open palm and it made you cringe with in pain. When Loki finally put his arms down you thought you were free but those same arms came around your back and legs to hoist you against him bridal style.
"Loki! What the fuck? Please, just put me down. I am not in the mood for your games!"
He was shushing you again and peppering kisses against your temple and you could feel your anger ebbing away as he whispered into your hair.
"It's no game, love. I just want to take care of you."
The chair was solid beneath you and the Loki setting you down was the only Loki in the room. Your body was stiff as he fluffed the throw pillow next to your hip and dragged the ottoman a little closer so you could rest your feet. When he was done he hovered near your elevated legs giving you a look you had never seen before.
"You're being weird."
Your words were blunt but you wriggled into a comfortable position nonetheless. If this was a prank you were going to enjoy the good part before it was over.
"Can I get you anything?" He asked, ignoring the matching incredulous looks you and Peter sent his way.
"An explanation would be nice." You said, not at all joking.
Loki kneeled down at your side, making him slightly shorter than you so you had to look down. He let out a heavy breath and spread his hand over your stomach.
"I can feel it. Feel its energy. Our child."
Loki was not ever limited in words but as he looked where his hand stretched across your body he struggled to speak, struggled to see past the mist building in his eyes.
"Our…"
It's like you were hit by a train you had been watching come towards you for so long, only to realize right as it hits you what it is you've been seeing the whole time. Your mood, your body, the late period you shrugged off because hey, you're super powers did not include a consistent menstrual cycle, and then back to the night you and Loki lay in bed, catching your breath and letting sweat dry on your skin.
"Mazel Tov you two!"
You had forgotten Peter was even in the room with you. Smiling wide you lept up from your seat and into his open arms, both of you doing little jumps of giddiness that made you feel nauseous underneath your overwhelming joy.
"Release her Parker she's delicate!" Loki admonished and while Peter obediently let you go you only rolled your eyes.
"I'm not delicate! I'm a badass superhero and soon to be mom."
You choked up on the last word, tears falling big and fat from your eyes. Your mouth ached from smiling so much in such a short time. But Loki was smiling just as wide, his cheeks shiny with his own tears.
Coming into an embrace was natural and consciously tender. Loki's thumb brushed across your flat stomach in reverence as you nuzzled your head under his chin. Pete's head popped into view as he joined your cuddling, resting against Loki's arm and looking between you fondly.
Hello!! I'd love love LOVE if I could get a bit of a longer fic of Loki x Female Reader. The reader is a member of the Avengers and she has it BAD for Loki. They are very close but she does not think he would ever return those feelings. She is sent on a stealth mission but it goes wrong. She ends up in a sex trafficking hustle and she is a virgin. Loki notices she doesn't come back and gets worried and he rescues her before anything bad happens.
Hi! This is a fantastic prompt, and I hope I’ve done it justice!
This was a little out of my comfort zone simply because I’ve never written much action before, but I’m pretty damn happy with the result!
Word count: 4263
Warnings: Strong language, talk of sex trafficking, talk of r*pe. Nothing sexually explicit.
You sip slowly at your coffee, letting the feeling of the hot liquid oozing down your throat ease your hunched up body.
Last night you had drunk a few too many glasses of wine, and few too little glasses of water. You trace the lines of the polished oak wood table before you, really wishing you could go back to bed. Leaning back in your chair, you take another sip as Fury's voice carries around the room.
"..simple enough for soldiers such as yourselves.." You tune him out again, the other six members of your stealth squad rigid in their seats, eyes studying the director carefully, listening silently to every word he says.
Your eyes come into focus again as a familiar silhouette appears on the other side of the glass wall. Loki walks past nonchalantly, hands stuffed into his dark wash jeans, green t-shirt clinging deliciously to his chiseled torso. It really is unfair how gorgeous he is. You watch as he goes up to the coffee machine and presses the button for a latte. Snorting into your cup, you push your thoughts out to him.
~Tosser ~
You know full well that he's only come down to the briefing floor to wind you up, with a perfectly good coffee machine on your own floor.
~ Oh absolutely, my dear ~
The silken sound of Loki's voice whispers lowly in your ear, unheard by others in the room. You watch as his large hand reaches out to wrap around the paper cup.
~ Good luck, today ~
You scowl at him as he turns around and winks at you before striding away.
~ Piss off ~
A small smile plays at his lips just before he leaves your line of vision. He was the prick who had suggested a movie marathon last night, helped you demolish half of the wine fridge and now got to stay at the Tower all day, doing fuck all. It really wasn't fair. Maybe when you got back you could have a little revenge, cover his bedroom ceiling in pictures of Thor or something, maybe hide some photos in his drawers and pillow cases. Something he couldn't quickly magic away.
You smirk. That might just work.
"Agent!" Fury's voice carries around the room and you flick your eyes over to him. He smiles sardonically. "Nice of you to join us."
"You're welcome." You smile back sweetly and his jaw twitches. "Don't worry, Director. I've already read the brief, and you said it yourself, the mission should be easy enough." The lie flows easily from your lips.
"Jesus fuck, you're as bad as Stark with that mouth of yours. It's not appreciated, Agent."
"It's part of why you keep me around."
"Uh-huh." He grunts and drops the file he was holding onto the table. "Briefing concluded. You're all to be on the jet in 30 minutes."
The soldiers around you all stand up and you clear out with them. You need a filthy helping of grease, and have just enough time to leg it to the burger van a couple blocks away.
-----
You throw the dirty napkins in the bin and wash your hands, running over the brief in your mind. The hard drive you're being sent to retrieve is in the basement of an abandoned gym in one of the poorer neighbourhoods of Atlantic City. A maximum of ten men are expected to be there, all of them with weapons, no more than six of them with military training. The hard drive contains sensitive information which the leader had won in a bet, and was now trying to sell to the highest bidder. Two of your team will take the upper level, another two on the ground floor, and the last two with you in the basement.
The most stressful thing will be dealing with Williamson's singing on the way back, an awful celebratory habit of his. Thank god he's a good soldier, otherwise you might strap him with a parachute and kick him off the jet.
-----
“Everyone off. The entry point is three blocks west.” You motion everyone off the jet with your hands before following them as you all jog through the desolate neighbourhood. You all flatten your backs against the wall of the next door building, and you creep forwards to peer ahead. A lone man stands outside the door, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he looks around. Although dressed casually, you can see the handgun tucked into his waistband. You slide the silencer onto your gun and take aim.
His body falls to the ground with a soft thud and you wave to the others to follow. Williamson moves in front of you to kick the door down and you aim over his left shoulder as the two of you take down the men inside before they can shout out. Peters and Edwards push forward into the building ahead of you, and the other four follow you to the staircase on your right. Williamson and Smith take the stairs up and you wave Johnson and Willows down with you.
As you descend, the throbbing in your head returns and you rub your forehead, willing it to go away. The door in front of you is slightly ajar and you hold your hand up to stop the others as you listen closely.
“...the new lot are waiting by the docks, should be leaving in an hour or so.” A gruff voice says.
A high pitched laugh rings out. “Any of them any good?”
“As if you could afford one, Anderson.” A third man snickers.
Perfect, they’re not expecting you. You nod to the other two before pushing the door open. The men are sitting around a table, and you shoot one in the chest before the other two have even stood up. Johnson ducks as the smaller guy shoots, and you land a bullet in his throat before he can turn to you.
The rest of the room is empty, with a door on the left and right. “Johnson, Willows. You take the right, I’ll take the left.” You whisper and they nod.
You press your ear to the door on the left. It’s mostly silent, except for the clacking of computer keys. Only one guy it seems. You kick the door open, gun raised at the man behind the computer.
Time seems to slow as your finger rests on the trigger, a flicker of surprise gracing your features at the young man in front of you; spotty skin, a star trek t-shirt stained with ketchup and a poor attempt at what is probably his first mustache.
You shouldn’t hesitate, you never have before. Maybe it’s the headache, maybe it’s something else, but either way - you know you’ve fucked up as a large figure looms in your peripheral vision to your right. You barely leap out of the way before the giant of a man’s fist punches through the air where your head was. You spin to face him, back to the young guy as you shoot straight through the big guy’s head. Turning quickly back around, you lift your gun again, expecting to see the younger guy’s face.
Instead, you see the fist of a man double your size, right before it lands on your face. You fly back against the wall, gun falling from your grip. Your head spins and vision blurs as you try to lift yourself to your feet.
“Not so fast, pretty girl.” The brute’s giant hand wraps around your throat as shouts sound out around you. He drags you by your throat as you kick out, scratching at his fist, towards an open door at the back of the room. He drags you past several men as Johnson and Willows burst into the room, shooting at them. They disappear from sight as you’re dragged through the door into a dim hallway. You gasp for air, your vision growing dark as the blood is restricted to your head. Just as you black out, you feel yourself being hauled over the brute’s shoulder.
----
When you wake, your head is pounding and everything hurts. You’re cold, and everything is so bright. You squint around the room, taking in the concrete walls, the concrete floor, the fluorescent lights. Opposite you is a window of one way glass, and just in front of it, a camera on a tripod, the flashing red light indicating that it is recording. You look yourself over and realise with a jarring shiver that you’ve been stripped and given a simple white dress, your legs and shoulders exposed. As you do this a rattle sounds next to you and you gasp, clutching at your neck and feeling the metal collar wrapped around it. The back of it has a chain attached, and when you stand on shaky legs, you realise the chain is attached to the middle of the wall. You don’t bother to pull at it, knowing full well that it won’t budge.
The chain allows you to move about six feet away from the wall, but no further, definitely not close enough to kick at the tripod or touch the glass. The girl in the mirror looks awful, dark circles under her eyes and bruises around her neck, skin grey in the light. You grind your teeth, more angry than scared. Ten men! What a load of bullshit! They had at least fifteen in the building, and if Fury could get his fucking facts straight, you would’ve been more prepared!
You stop your gnashing as the door to the left of the camera clangs, the sound of several bolts being opened, before it swings open to reveal two men. The first, a tall, balding man in a suit, smiles at you coldly. The second is dressed in all black, clutching a rifle.
They stop next to the camera as the door slams shut behind them, echoing around the chamber.
“Do you know why you are here?” The first man drawls, his voice like a serpents.
You smirk at him. “You’re gonna torture me for information. Good luck with that by the way, I’ve been trained by the best. You won’t hear a peep from me.”
He snickers, covering his mouth with his hand and you try not to show your unease. “I have no use for your information, sweetheart.” He stares over at you like he can see through your dress. “No, your mind is not what I value. Your body will fetch a much higher price.”
You clench your jaw at his words, trying not to let the fear creep into you.
He steps forwards, arms behind his back as he looks you up and down. “There are many out there who would love to have one of SHIELD’s operatives in their hands. It’s a much more personal way to… take out their grievances.”
You fight the urge to step back, away from him; and instead raise your chin at him, not looking away.
He chuckles. “Look at that, such bravery. I do wonder how long that will hold out.” He turns away, walking back towards the wall before leaning nonchalantly against it. “I saw you, you know, when they brought you here. So beautiful, so vulnerable.” He licks his lips. “Such a lovely body too, what a shame we can’t hear how nicely you beg.” Your hands twitch by your sides, itching to cover yourself. “Tell me, are you a virgin?”
You still, not allowing yourself to do anything that will give away an answer, but that seems to be answer enough. He claps his hands in joy, pushing himself off the wall in excitement. “You are! Oh, how wonderful! We can double the price now.” He chortles to himself.
“Fuck you.” You spit at his feet, straining against the chain.
“Not me darling, but someone else. Soon.” He taps his hand on top of the camera. “Do you know why we record you? So that the buyers can get a taste for the product they’re buying; and you, sweetheart, are the newest in a long line of girls who have been in our special store.”
He picks up the camera and switches it off, handing it to the other man. “Don’t fret. You won’t be in here too long, we’ve already received some interest.”
The man knocks on the door and it opens again. “Toodles.” He wags his fingers at you before striding out.
The door shuts behind the two, and you hear the bolts sliding into place. They’re really not taking any chances with you, are they? You sit back against the wall, and run your hands through your hair. You have no idea how long has passed since you arrived at the original mission site, but it’s surely not more than a few hours. They had definitely drugged you in some way to get you here, but you were confident that they hadn’t… violated you. You shiver, closing your eyes and bowing your head.
You’d be found, right? Before.. Before you were bought by whatever despicable human wanted this kind of perverse thing. You had been wanting to lose your virginity for a while, but the right time never seemed to come around, and by the time it did, your mind was occupied with something , well, someone, else. You sure as hell aren’t going to go down without a fight, but the fear grips you tightly and blink away the tears. What if you don’t have a choice? What if they.. No. You’re not going to think about it.
You trust the team. You trust him. Loki. He had been your rock since you joined the team, the one you clicked with the most. His quiet wit, and his loud exclamations when you got him alone. His gorgeous smile, and the amused looks he reserved only for you when the others did something stupid. The way he had taught you how to project your thoughts to him, and no one else, a private thing between the two of you. He was your best friend. And yes, maybe you had been hoping to lose your v-card to him, but that didn’t really matter now, as long as it wasn’t some evil bastard on the other side of the glass. Fuck, if you got out of here in time, you might finally grow the balls to actually tell him how you feel. He wouldn’t reciprocate of course, but at least you wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. The thought of Loki in a slutty priest costume swims into your head. “You have a confession?” The absurdity of it makes you smile, a small reprieve from the worry itching itself through your veins.
You allow yourself to drift off into a daydream of different members of the team in ridiculous outfits, Thor as a ballerina, Tony in a unicorn onesie, Nat as Director Fury, and soon enough drift off to sleep.
-----
You wake to the sound of scraping metal, and look up at the man in the suit as he carries in a tray of food and a glass of water. He slides it over to you, some of the water spilling over the edge of the paper cup. An apple and two slices of buttered bread lie on the tray, no plate, nothing you can use as a weapon.
“I wouldn’t usually bring a girl their food myself, but I thought I’d let you know some exciting news!” He exclaims in an exaggerated tone.
You say nothing, gulping down the water as he watches your throat move. “We’ve had a tremendous response to your tape. The top six bidders will be here tomorrow morning to see you in person.”
He smiles at you in mock kindness. “Make sure you rest up well, I imagine you’ll be quite busy tomorrow.” He laughs, heading towards the door.
You stand up quickly, holding out a hand. “Wait!” He turns back, an eyebrow raised. “Could I please use the toilet?”
He smiles coldly. “Of course, I can't have you soiled when the buyers arrive.” He gestures to someone outside the door and two men walk in, dressed just as the other guy was earlier, holding guns. “Please escort her to the lavatory.” He leaves the room and the two men look at you.
“Face the wall, palms to the wall.” The one on the right barks and you do as you’re told. You feel one of them come up behind you, moving your hair out of the way and you feel sick. The jingle of keys sounds and then you feel the neck restraint slacken. Two pairs of hands grab an arm each, and they lead you away between them, your restraint falling to the floor. Outside the door is a long hallway lined with doors, all of them shut tight. You get the distinct feeling that you are underground and struggle to keep up with the guards' long strides. When you reach the end of the hallway, it opens up into a larger room, where a woman in a white lab coat is bustling about. A young girl, perhaps 17 or 18 lies unconscious on a bed, a large gash on her head. It looks as if the doctor is stitching her up. The guards pull you around the side of a curtain to see a toilet. They let you go and push you towards it. They don’t turn away, amused looks on their faces as your skin flushes. You lift your skirt, squatting down. You try to focus on something else, utterly mortified as they watch you. You reach for the toilet roll and wipe, turning around to flush the toilet.
This is the only chance you might get. You launch yourself backwards into one of the guards, grabbing his arm and shifting your weight to throw him over your shoulder. He wacks his head on the bowl of the toilet, but you don’t stop. Hitting the other guard’s pressure points, you pull the gun from his grasp, sliding it across the room. You put one foot on the unconscious guard’s body, using the momentum to launch yourself onto the other guard, hitting him repeatedly with your elbows as he tries to pry you off. You land an especially hard blow and he stumbles, allowing you to kick off him and push him into the wall which he slides down. You skid around the curtain, the doctor shielding the unconscious girl’s body as she looks at you with wide eyes.
“Please you have to help me, how do I get out of here?!” You try not to scream the words but she just looks at you. “¿Dónde está la salida?” You say, hoping maybe she speaks spanish. The sounds of boots on concrete thunder towards the room from down the hallway and you shake her shoulders. “Please!” Again, she says nothing.
You grab a scalpel off of the tray beside her, wielding it in front of you as guards come pouring into the room. One, two, three, four, five, six. All of them aiming at you. You drop the scalpel, holding your hands up in surrender.
-----
You don’t sleep a wink all night, just staring at the wall, your back aching from the unforgiving floor. What if you’re not found in time? What if you’re sold like a slave? Images of what could happen flash through your mind and you wipe at the tears that threaten to spill over. You have to hope, you can’t give into the fear so easily.
It feels like an eternity, this waiting. Eventually, you hear voices outside. “I think you’ll find she’s much to your liking, gentleman.” The clang of the bolts sliding sounds and you push yourself back against the wall, pulling your dress as low as it will go, and yet it still won’t cover your knees. Your heart pounds in your ears as the guy in the suit walks in, followed by six other men. Your eyes lock on the second to last’s and the lights in the room flicker. Loki.
Now with short blonde hair, and wearing a cream suit; he looks almost nothing like himself. And yet you’d know those ice blue eyes anywhere, those cheekbones, those lips - usually lifted in laughter but now pressed tight together. His eyes blaze with anger as he takes you in, covered in bruises, hunched against the wall. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure everyone can hear it, and you look away quickly, not wanting to let your reaction give anything away.
~ Stay calm ~ You send your thoughts out to him.
~ My love, what have they done to you? ~ Your eyes dart back to his as the lights flicker again. His voice in your ear brings tears to your eyes as relief floods you. He’s never called you that before.
~ You need to keep your magic under control ~
“...bidding at 1.5, gentlemen?” The man’s voice draws you back to the room. A larger guy licks his lips at you as he raises his hand.
“Wonderful. What about 1.75? Anyone?” Loki raises his hand and you shiver.
“Excellent. Anyone have two million for one of SHIELD’s own?”
~ We have to delay them, the team is almost here ~ Loki’s voice in your ear is like silk, and makes you feel stronger just from hearing it.
You gulp as another man raises his hand. You had been trying so hard to contain your emotions , but if you’re gonna slow this down, you need to put on a show.
“Fuck you!” You spit, clambering to your feet. “I dare you, fucking try me!” You scream it, letting yourself feel the anger, breathing heavily.
The men laugh at you. “Isn’t she so feisty?” One says.
“Mmm indeed.” Another agrees and raises his hand.
“Two million, lovely. Anyone going for two and a quarter?”
You scream, throwing yourself forward until the chain pulls painfully at your throat. “Come here you bastard, and let me give you two million dollars worth.” You reach your hands out like a mad woman, clawing at the air in front of the men.
“May I?” Loki asks, stepping forwards towards you with fake curiosity.
“Oi! Who said you get to touch her?!” One of the men shouts, pulling Loki back. He spins around, towering over the guy.
“Gentlemen please, let us continue the auction.” The man says and Loki straightens his blazer, returning to the wall.
Gun shots ring out down the hall and all of them men look over to the open door. “If you’ll excuse me.” The man says, rushing from the room.
“Looks like it’s free dibs.” One of the men says, eyeing you up. You stumble backwards as you lock eyes with him, and then another man punches him.
Apparently that is all that is needed for a brawl to break out, and you back against the wall, watching as Loki drops something, nonchalantly kicking it back to you as he throws a punch. The hook pick slides across the floor and you scramble to pick it up, sliding it into the lock around your throat. You jiggle it, almost laughing in elation as it releases, and you rip it from around your throat. When you look up, four of the men lay on the floor unconscious, and Loki slams the last against the wall, smashing his head into the concrete.
He turns around, his glamour falling away to reveal his long black hair and leather suit. Tears pour down your face as he pulls you into his embrace, shushing you. “My little dove, I’m here.” He coos at you and you cry harder at the nickname he reserves for special occasions.
“I was so worried… I thought.. I thought you might not find me in time.” You sob into his chest.
“Sshh, I will always be here for you.”
“Promise me.” You let your walls down with your words, and Loki sinks to the floor with you in his lap.
“I promise, my love.”
You sniffle, pulling away from him. “Don’t call me that. You don’t mean it.”
He chuckles. “Is this really the place for confessions?”
The image of him in a slutty priest outfit flashes through your head and you give a watery laugh. “Because of the unconscious cunts on the floor?”
“I mean, partly.” He says, smoothing your hair behind your ears as you wipe your face.
“Are we safe?” You ask, knowing he can sense the energies around.
“Yes, the others are waiting just outside.”
“Then yes, it is the place for confessions. I was so scared Loki…”
“Sshh it’s okay.” He rubs the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks.
“No, it’s not. Because through everything I was so scared that I wouldn’t get to see you, get to tell you..” You break off, tears threatening to pour again.
“I know, little dove.” He tilts your chin up to make you look at him and strokes your hair. “I love you.” He whispers the words, and your tears spill over at the sight of his own eyes shining with tears, at hearing him say the words you had waited so long for.
“I love you too, Loki.” You hold onto him tightly, and he squeezes you, letting you cry.
After several long minutes, you pull away, wiping the snot from your face. “Sorry, I probably look disgusting.”
“Be quiet. You look as gorgeous as ever.” He stands, offering you a hand. He shrugs out of his long leather jacket, draping it over your shoulders. “Let’s get you home, pet.”
****************
Hope you enjoyed!
My fic requests are open! Please refer to this post for more info!
omg i've started to listen to lewis capaldi this week and now i would love if you write something angst or how depending on how do you feel with "Someone You Loved" and with Loki
WARNINGS: Major character death, angst, grief, pain, sorrow and all those human feelings I tend to avoid.
I’m going under and this time I fear there’s no one to save me
This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy
You knew it was doomed from the start. You knew it since your eyes met his under the dim light of the room. Tony was throwing one of his parties with all the team and since it was the first one you’d been invited to, you decided you needed to go.
Everything was beautiful at the beginning, of course. Loki took you out on dates, he loved and cherished you like no one had ever done and that made you fall fast and hard for him. But a few months later, he started acting weird, something was bothering him but he never shared his concerns. He eventually started pushing you away, your old traumas and issues clouding your mind.
I need somebody to heal
Somebody to know
Somebody to have
Somebody to hold
It’s easy to say
But it’s never the same
I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain
Loki was always there for you, when your life started to crumple and everything that made sense faded away, he was there to hold you close, to tell you everything was going to be alright. He made you forget all the wrong and ugly you’d experienced, but now that he was gone, life was just…grey.
Now the day bleeds
Into nightfall
And you’re not here
To get me through it all
I let my guard down
And then you pulled the rug
I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved
You hated to be the kind of person that needed others, but you just got so used to being with Loki that you forgot what life was without him, before him. As months went on, everything was okay for a while, you thought that maybe it was just a small bump on the road, but you both were doomed.
I’m going under and this time I fear there’s no one to turn to
This all or nothing way of lovin got me sleeping without you
You still remember the last time you kissed him, the last time you told him you loved him, the last time he held you in his arms. Everything got tougher, you fought more often cause he was absent, not being himself. You wanted him to open up, to trust you with whatever was hurting him so deeply, but he just dismissed you. It made you feel helpless and not worth his love. One day, everything just went to shit and he left you. “I love you, Y/n. But I need to protect you from myself.” Those were his final words and he knew it.
And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes
I fall into your arms
I’ll be safe in your sound till I come back around.
He knew he was going to die, he knew it and never told you. You were on that ship when Thanos took the stone and Loki’s life. You still remember the crack of his neck, his last words echoing in your mind “You will never be a god.” Loki died saving you and Thor, he died free of hatred and full of love.
You felt a tingling all over your body and when you looked down, you were disappearing. You clutched your chest and smiled, because you knew that wherever you were going, your lover was going to be waiting for you.
Sorry it took me sooo long to write, I was not inspired at all to write Loki. I hope you like it and sorry for the delay.
The Polar Express (A Super Special Christmas One Shot)
I Will Follow You Into The Dark
Conversation With Power
The Latveria Mission
I Knew They Would Love You
Forty Days
Love Letters:
I Open Myself To You
My Sweet Girls
Tell Me A Lie
Series:
Return: Part One // Part Two // Part Three
(Loki Imagine: Imagine Thanos targeting Loki’s lover to punish him for his failure to get the Tesseract.) Taken from tumblr. Thor finds you during an intense mission with the Avengers. After disobeying Steve’s orders and saving you, Thor is cornered. Who are you? What were you doing there? How did Thor know you? Knowing he has to answer all of these questions, Thor explains everything)
The Godchild: Chapter One // Chapter Two
(You are excited when your best friend, Laura Barton, names you as little Natasha’s godmother. You are more than ready to take care of her. Little do you know, Clint has also picked out a godfather for his new daughter…Loki.A series inspired by my previous work “The Polar Express” where Loki and you meet and take on your roles as godparents to Natasha Barton during a time where the Barton family and other members of SHIELD are threatened. How far would you go to protect your goddaughter? How far would Loki go?)
War Creatures:
Season One: Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven // Chapter Eight // Chapter Nine // Chapter Ten
(In a crossover of the Nine Realms and Westeros, you find yourself in the dawn of a rebellion. Odin, Lord of Pyke, has made alliances with your family, House Grover of Highgarden. Your father’s army will join Odin’s army to overthrow the King and take the Iron Throne. There is just one cost to this alliance.You must marry the dark, young prince Loki.In a world where Kings do as they wish, where war is an oncoming storm, and peace is nothing but a dream, you are lost but brave. Loki is more powerful than he seems, and love will grow from the flames of war.)
