#loki fic

bucky barnes! after figuring out the ways of the modern world, he would be interested in trying some bdsm, before realizing how rough in can be which completely turned him off. he's definitely on board with light choking, but when you suggested trying knife play and gun play, he was unsure. it took him a while to understand that you trusted him, out of all people, enough to use weapons he took so many lives with, now creating new memories and a deeper bond between the both of you. apart from that, nothing gives him more of a thrill than when you're at a bar, a few drinks in and he's taking you to the bathroom and making you choke on his cock.

steve rogers! he's a very simple man, not very willing to try new things. he knows what he likes and what works for him, even if it may be considered vanilla, but that's okay! because when he's sitting you on top of him, holding you up by your hips and fucking up into you with a fast and steady pace, you don't care who can hear you or how sore you'll be from yelling the next day. he always makes sure he didn't go to far, even if you assure him that he could be rougher, kissing the top of your head and holding you until you fall asleep in his arms.

tony stark! a pervert, obviously. he'll take you anywhere and anyway he can. he loves trying new things and taking his time exploring your body, figuring out what makes you squirm and moan. loves taking you in the backseat of the car on a way to a meeting; not caring that happy knows exactly what you two are doing back there. he surprises you every month with rigs and gadgets that he made specifically to use you as his test subject. he'd record his findings, of course, propping up a camera in your direction so he can rewatch and figure out how to make his invention better; no other reason...

bruce banner! secretly but unsurprisingly, he's also a pervert. daily pussy inspections, which he claims are for your health, you know better but don't complain. much like his playboy friend, he likes to experiment on you, sometimes they do it together without you knowing. bruce comes to tony with what he suspects is sex pollen and wants to put it to the test. you're unknowingly going about your day, having lunch with wanda and nat when it hits you, excusing yourself after half and hour of unbearable heat pooling between your legs, oblivious to the men turning off the meta glasses they had to log their results.

sam wilson! an ass man through and through. position where he can see your ass he's doing that. he also loves watching your reflection, pressing you against any bathroom counter and seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head as your ass bounces back on him. he even went to the lengths of installing a mirror above his bed so he could see you in every possible angle.

loki laufeyson! let's be so honest this man is into anything and everything, but i firmly believe that he loves making you wear his helmet and pulling on the horns. especially when he has you on all fours, too tired to hold yourself up, a little spell to make sure the helmet doesn't slip from your head and he's forcing you to arch your back for hours on end. speaking of spells, binding is his favorite go to, contorting you in ways you didn't think possible and keeping you there.

thor odinson! like his brother, he's had many years of experience to try a plethora of positions, toys and locations. he prides himself in his strength so he loves taking you against a wall, or just holding you up as he bounces you up and down his cock. however, he dreams of laying you face down in his silk sheets, spreading your legs and laying mjölnir on your lower back, restricting you of all movement and using you for his own selfish pleasure.

peter parker! he doesn't necessarily have a favorite position, but he does have a preference for cowgirl. entranced by the way your tits bounce in his face, he's willing to do anything and everything you tell him to, still not sure how he managed to date a beautiful woman like you. he would be crushing on you way before you actually got together, almost in a creepy way. even now, he can't help himself from secretly stealing some of your underwear so he can jerk off to it at home. he loves you, and loves pleasuring you, so who is he to be anything but the perfect boy for his favorite girl?

stephen strange! loves edging you for hours, making you beg and squirm around his fingers before he even fucks you properly. he'd tell you he was teaching you patience, and that you were failing miserably. when he finally lets you cum, he's using the time stone to go back a few seconds and make you cum again. on days when he's feeling a bit crueler than usual, he's using the stone to hold you over the edge longer than you could mentally take.

matt murdock! because of his heightened senses, he loves taking his time with you and mapping out your body, no matter how many times he's done this. it could be hours before actually fucks you, taking his time between your legs, marking your thighs and belly with his teeth, wanting to commit your whole body to memory with everyone of his remaining senses. shamelessly sniffs you and your underwear, convincing you he could get high solely from that. he'd never deny you an orgasm, oh no, he'd give in to any request and plead you throw his way, though reluctant to fuck you and have his indulging cut short.

frank castle! not a single gentle moment with this man, at least until it's over and he's making you dinner and bathing you. before that though, he's grabbing both your wrists behind your back and mercilessly pounding into you, holding your head down with his rough palm. not even when he's making you ride his thigh, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you, one hand cradling the back of your head as the other slaps your ass, "come on baby, i know you can do better than that." he's not giving you a break until you make yourself cum, and after that he's cleaning you up with his mouth, not caring how overstimulated you are.

“Oh hells!”

Your high-heeled foot snagged on the hem of your dress, and you neatly tumbled into the ornately carved door in front of you.

Your hands slammed into the wall with a dull thud as you regained your balance, muttering curses under your breath all the while.

Frantic, you scanned down the vast, empty halls, and you were assured no one heard you.

Thank gods that Thor, in his delirious birthday drunkenness, had given the night off to the palace guards. You were certain they were happily drowning themselves in kegs and kegs of drink in the servants’ quarters below.

Trying not to lose your nerve, you creaked open the door. The sound of your own breath was deafening in your ears.

In the slit of torch light from the hall, you could just make out a lone sleeping figure in the bed, dark hair messily splayed out on a pillow. One pale, toned arm slung behind his head. A slight rise and fall of his chest told you he hadn’t been awoken by your little tumble.

Or he was just pretending to be asleep.

He was Loki after all.

The trickster god.

Brother of Thor, son of Odin.

Second prince of Asgard.

And your best friend in all of the 9 realms.

At least he was. Nowadays, you weren’t so sure what exactly, was the nature of your relationship.

A rustling of the sheets made you flinch, shaking you out of your thoughts.

Immediately, you regretted everything. You turned too quickly, tangling yourself on your ridiculous emerald gown again. The clumsy stomp of you saving yourself from falling flat on your ass, rang out loudly. If he wasn’t awake before, he certainly was now.

Your shoulders braced against the sleepy drawl of his voice.

”Well. I’ve imagined you in my bedroom many times my dear, but certainly not out of your own volition.”

Your ears flushed hotly at the thought of what in the worlds Loki had fantasized would happen with you.

Here.

In his bed.

How little did he know that your own traitorous mind could not stop thinking about the very same thing. It’s what brought you here, practically against your own will, and definitely against your better judgement, to his door in the middle of the night.

“I’ve thought of many a method to convince you. Dragging you kicking and screaming was an appealing one. Or perhaps a love potion. A persuasive spell was another.” He rambled on leisurely. “I hadn’t quite decided and yet—“

“I want you.”

At your interruption, Loki paused mid-sentence. He took in your face as a multitude of emotions flashed across it. Regret, and apprehension. But there was desire there too. Determination. A desperation and openness he hasn’t seen since the two of you were much younger.

Since before tragedy had hardened your heart.

“Come here, my love.”

Your heart practically melted at the endearment. Loki has flirted with you constantly for years, feeding all sorts of wild rumors in the court.

But somehow, tonight, in the quiet darkness of his bedroom, you finally believed him.

That underneath all the joking and teasing, he really did love you.

With a flick of his wrist, Loki lit the lamps, bathing the room in a soft amber glow.

He rose from the bed and the sheets gracefully fell away, revealing a shirtless Loki in a pair of loose fitting pants.

Not much was left to the imagination and seeing him like this, in this context, made your face heat up like a furnace.

Slowly, Loki took one of your hands in both of his. His green eyes studied your expression with an intensity that made you want to look away. But you didn’t. You held his gaze steadily and met it with the same intensity.

The same passion.

“You’re serious about this.” His words came out in a whisper. All the humor left his tone as he regarded you with awe.

Not trusting your own voice, you took the smallest step closer to him, closing the gap between your bodies.

Loki was utterly baffled. He’d spent his whole life watching you. Observing you. Studying you.

He knew every expression, every nervous habit—like how you cracked your knuckles right before you had to talk to someone you hated (which was everyone at court). Or how your eyes crinkled in affection and sadness anytime you saw your father with Odin.

The way you rolled your eyes at his idiot brother’s boasting.

And your raised eyebrows and slight smirk whenever Loki pulled yet another prank on him.

Loki knew what you looked like when you steeled yourself for battle. How your shoulders drew back, your hands gripped your sword, and your eyes sharpened with a predatory focus.

He knew that your jaw would clench in pain, and your face fall into an impassive mask at the mere mention of your fallen Valkyrie mother.

Only for him to find you in silent tears in your favorite hidden corner of the library that only he knew about.

He knew that any romantic advance he would make towards you would be met with a laugh, a painful shove to the floor, or a condescending pat on the head. Along with a decisive declaration that he was “like a brother” to you, and nothing more.

But tonight, in this moment, Loki was struck with two things that went directly against everything he thought he knew about you.

One.

Ever since your mother was slain in battle, you hated being touched. By anyone. Even your own father.

Two.

You never, ever allowed yourself to be commanded by anyone other than Odin, your father, or your Valkyrie generals. Loki couldn’t tell you to do a goddamn thing. Nor Thor for that matter.

And yet, when he asked for you, you approached him willingly.

You let him hold your hand.

And now, you were looking at him expectantly. As if you were asking to be kissed.

“If this is a dream, don’t wake me.” Loki breathed into your mouth right as he sealed his lips over yours.

At the first taste of him, your body relaxed all the tension you didn’t realize you were holding. He tasted of spiced wine and smelled of parchment and evergreen wood like the palace library. You inhaled deeply and unconsciously pulled him closer to you by wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

“You smell like the library.” You smiled. Of course he would smell like your safe place.

“Where do you think I spend all my time hiding from my family?” Loki joked, his hands held your waist as if this was an everyday occurance.

“And with me.” You retorted playfully. You were a battle strategist before you were a warrior. People called you calculating, and ruthless in war, but Loki saw you as brilliant and under appreciated by the Valkyrie’s and his father. Where your mother was a fearsome, powerful commander, you were just as fierce, in intellect instead.

It’s what drew the two of you together to be fast friends since you were young. And formidable partners on the battlefield. Thor would dive headfirst into the enemy, relying on brute force. But you and Loki stood back, observed, made a plan, and vanquished the opponent by outsmarting them.

So Loki knew your actions weren’t a spur of the moment, brash decision of lust. It was meticulously decided. Every possible outcome had been weighed and mulled over. And somehow, you had landed on finally coming to his side.

He kissed you again, softly, as if to reassure himself you were really there. Really letting him hold you and kiss you.

He led you to the bed and sat you down and knelt before you in full surrender. He looked up at you, emerald eyes shining with emotion.

“I have not an inkling as to what caused your change of heart, but I will do anything in my power to please you. Anything to make you happy. I am yours, and I’ve been yours for years.” Loki confessed with reverence, and he brought your hand to his lips.

You stilled the slight tremor of his hand by holding it in your warm palms. A rush of power, and thrill, raced up your spine as you gazed down at Loki, a prince of Asgard, prone at your feet, professing his loyalty and love to you, a mere woman. Well, a formidable, intelligent, warrior-woman, but not by any means a goddess nor princess.

“Loki.” You breathed out his name with a clear realization. This man, no, this god, was truly, deeply, and undoubtedly in love with you.

You decided to be fully transparent with him. He deserved to know how you truly felt about him.

“Loki, you know I trust you. I trust you with my life on the battlefield, with my position in this court of snakes, with the well-being of my father and myself, especially after Mother died.” Your voice started to tremble with emotion.

You thought back to sleepless nights as a teenager, where you were awake with grief. And Loki, lonely Loki, was the only one who could understand your loss. In a land that professed to be paradise, and buried pain, Loki relished in it, understood it, harnessed its power.

He was an orphan, an outcast in his own kingdom, in his own family. He knew grief. He knew suffering.

But when he saw it in you, all his selfish ambition faded away into wanting to protect you from ever hurting like that again.

”I remember.” Loki murmured, looking at your intertwined hands.

“You cared for me Loki. You always have. You were the one who sat with me in my grief until the sun rose in the library. You were the one who vouched for my abilities in battle and saved me from death countless times. You were the one who drove away unwanted suitors who were after my power, not my heart.”

“By courting you myself instead.” Loki chuckled. He thought back to the first time he cracked a half-hearted joke about proposing to you and you, in full shock and embarrassment, kicked his feet out from under him, knocked the wind out of his lungs, and threatened him at sword point to never make a joke like that again.

So of course his flirting has been unrelentless ever since.

“You know, I didn’t believe you at first.” You laughed with him, and the sound was as beautiful as the most talented Asgardian musicians could play.

“I was serious the whole time. And still am.” Loki confirmed.

“I knew you loved me. I never doubted it. And I knew as we grew older that that love had become more than friendship. More than family. But…” You hesitated, unsure how to form into words what you were feeling.

“But what, my dear? You still haven’t answered me. Why the change of heart if you knew I loved you for all this time?” Loki pressed gently.

”I—I knew I loved you as well.” You confessed, and Loki inhaled sharply. “Like a brother! Like a best friend.” You clarified, but continued on.

“I’ve been thinking over for a long time if I’d ever want to be with someone. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think it was in my future. I’m too cold, too hardened for love.”

Loki opened his mouth to refute this but you held up a palm to stay his words.

“But my heart changed. I don’t know when it began, but I started missing you. I found myself wandering around the palace, looking for you. And when we weren’t in the library together, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, wanting you to be by my side at every boring council meeting, every court function where I had to show up alone, yet again. And in the evenings, when the weight of my grief and loneliness felt too much to bear, I longed for you, Loki.” You felt another flush creep up your chest. It was beyond embarrassing to be this honest with Loki right in front of you.

“So tonight, watching women fawn over your brother, the court in drunken lust from wine, and everyone sneaking into beds that were not those of their wives, I just kept wondering…” You trailed off, definitely too shy to say what you really thought.

”Who was in mine?” Loki finished for you.

You buried your face in your hands and nodded, your own cheeks hot to the touch. At that, Loki rose up and sat next to you on the mattress.

Gently, he pried apart your fingers and was shocked to see tears lining your eyes, making them sparkle in the lamplight.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else sharing your bed and I don’t know what I was thinking, barging in here to—I don’t know—spy on you? Confront you?” You babbled, feeling like a fool, and utterly overwhelmed with emotion. You wanted to curse whoever invented love; you felt awash at sea, and totally out of control.

“There was never anyone, my love.” Loki wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the idea was that he wanted anyone other than you.

But instead, he leaned in and kissed the tears away from your eyes.

“It has always been you. Only you.”

You let yourself be caressed by his kisses, by his touch. His fingers danced across your collarbone and pulled down the soft fabric covering your shoulders.

“Do you still want me?” Loki murmured against your shoulder. His eyes flicked up to meet yours. In them you could see for yourself, his love, his loyalty. His deep, yearning want for you and you alone.

“Yes.” You breathed out the single syllable with all the love, all the desire in your heart.

“Let me show you how the only person I could ever want, could ever love, is you, my dear.”

This time, it was you who initiated the kiss. Cupping under his chin, you drew Loki’s beautiful face to yours and pressed your lips to his waiting ones.

An unseemly moan escaped from your throat and Loki startled, but didn’t let you pull back.

Instead, his deft fingers found the tightly knotted ribbons on the back of your gown and tugged them free. Your dress fell in swaths of fabric at your waist, revealing soft breasts with nipples that pebbled in the nightly breeze.

Loki brushed his fingers across the tops of your breasts until he found your sensitive nubs and pinched them softly.

You’ve never had a lover, and so the only touch your body knew was your own.

But Loki, sweet, sensual Loki—his touch. His touch was magical. Your body immediately reacted and you were under his spell.

“Loki—what are you—!” You failed to form coherent phrases as you gripped his shoulders, your head buried in his neck.

“You are beautiful, my love.” He swooped your hair across your shoulder and kissed the hot skin of your exposed neck. His lips trailed further down until he reached your nipples and swiftly sucked them into his mouth.

“Ah!”

“And very, very sensitive.” Loki grinned and clamped a hand on the other breast, pinching harder while his tongue swirled circles.

Getting overwhelmed, you couldn’t decide whether to pull his face away from your chest, or bury him deeper. But when you felt teeth on your flesh, you drew back, startled.

“Loki!” You gasped in shock. “You bit me!”

“A love bite,” Loki bit down on the other nipple. “Do you like it?” He teased you, mischievously.

“L-Loki!” You sputtered out, unsure what to say.

“I love it when you’re speechless.” Loki laughed. “It’s a rare occurrence.”

At that, he finally released your breasts and gripped the back of your head. He crushed his lips to yours with so much force, you were certain it would bruise.

But you kissed him back just as forcefully, relishing how soft, how hot, how wet his mouth was. You’ve seen lovers practically eat each other when they kissed and it always made you want to throw up in disgust.

But when Loki kissed you, all you could think was this:

Kissing Loki was lighting you on fire.

“I want that sharp tongue of yours.” Loki suddenly panted out.

“What?” You sucked in some air, still figuring out when to breathe while making out.

“Put your tongue in my mouth. I want to taste you.”

“Oh my gods, you can’t just say that—!”

He interrupted your embarrassment by devouring your mouth, forcing it open, and you hesitantly obeyed by sticking your tongue out.

His firm, wet muscle somehow tangled with yours, sliding across with certainty. The feeling was foreign but not unpleasant.

Far from it.

In fact, his tongue was sending vibrations of lust straight to your core. You could feel your innermost muscles contract and release in desire.

You were practically humming with want.

“Mmm!” You moaned, “L-Loki!”

“How was that for you, my dear?” Loki swiped his tongue along his lips, making a show of savoring your taste.

“G-good.” You stuttered, swollen lips making it hard to speak.

“Just ‘good’? I was hoping for higher praise.” Loki teased you, his arrogant side appearing. “No matter. I’ll show you what else this tongue can do.”

He pulled your dress off your hips and was met with a welcome surprise.

“Nothing underneath?” He stared at you in lustful awe and a grin split his face.

You couldn’t meet his eyes and resisted the urge to cover your body. So you simply shook your head.

“Well then. Let’s see how you taste.” With that, Loki dove headfirst between your legs. His firm grip pulled each of your thighs up to give him clear access to your dripping center.

You twisted the bedsheets in your fists when you felt it.

When you felt him.

Gods, Loki’s tongue worked wonders on your pussy. His tongue explored every fold while your center gushed and throbbed uncontrollably. He kissed, stroked, and invaded your flesh as deep as he could go.

The most sinful, wet, squelching sounds came from where Loki’s face was buried in you and you found it impossible to keep from moaning continuously.

“Ohhh!” You cried out. “It’s too much!”

“That’s it, my darling.” Loki encouraged you. “Let go.”

He returned back to your pussy, finding your clit this time and swiping his tongue rhythmically across it.

“Oh my gods!” You screamed. “I can’t—!”

You inadvertently clamped your strong thighs against Loki’s head, holding him against your clit as the orgasm ripped through your body.

You had always kept a tight reign on yourself and Loki unraveled every ounce of self-control you ever had. The sounds that ripped from your throat could not have been you. The whimpers, the erotic moans, the ragged gasps.

Where was the Valkyrie? The strategist? The warrior?

At his touch, you melted under Loki’s command for the first time. How quickly the tables had turned the instant you fell in love.

These thoughts ran rampant in your head as you gathered your wits post-orgasm. Now feeling boneless, your knees dropped to the side and Loki freed himself.

You looked down and wanted to laugh. His hair was plastered to ruddy, sweaty cheeks. Dribbles of your juices were smeared all over his chin. His chest and neck flushed red with the exertion that was eating you out within an inch of your life.

He was a mess. And you made him that way.

“Come here.” Now it was your turn to command him. You swiped the juices off his face and smoothed his hair back with your fingers.

“Make love to me.” You locked eyes with him, letting him see your conviction. ”Be mine.”

Loki stared at you, robbed of words. He tugged himself free of his clothing and sat back on his heels. You couldn’t help but stare at his cock. It was a soft, fleshy pink, engorged with veins protruding on the shaft. A small drop of liquid formed on the bulbous, angry looking head. And, unsurprisingly, it was sizable in length and girth.

It was the cock of a god—that you weren’t sure you could handle.

“I have been yours from the beginning.” Loki replied with awe in his voice. “But if I fuck you…if I take your virgin pussy tonight…”

“Loki!” Your eyebrows shot up as you exclaimed at how dirty his words were.

“You belong to me as well.” Loki’s voice grew serious. His green eyes darkened in desire and he crawled across your body until he caged you in his arms. You held your breath, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable underneath him.

Loki had never been intimidating to you. In fact, as children, you often bested him in both duels and in lessons. But now, your eyes were glued to the muscles of his chest, to the ripple of his abs. He drew back, kneeling on the bed with your hips between his knees. Your gaze viewed him completely differently now that you saw him as a man. As a lover.

For Loki, it was a sight he burned into his memory. Your flushed skin, the sharp rise and fall of your beautiful breasts betraying your desire for him. Eyes awash in lust and love that had once only regarded him with equal parts familial affection and sisterly impatience.

“I’m not letting you go.” Truer words had never been spoken from his lips. You belonged to him and him alone.

A shiver of excitement shuddered through your body. You knew you were growing wet just from his words. A flirtatious jest in the past, but now? His possessiveness made your body sing with want.

Your next words came easily. You had surrendered your control, your desire, the whole of your being to Loki the moment you found yourself in his bedroom and confessed “I want you.”

“Do it.” You challenged him with a sinful smile. “Fuck me, Loki.”

Loki released a growl from clenched teeth and threw himself on you. A sharp grip enclosed on your jaw, fingers dangerously close to your throat as he kissed you like a man possessed.

“Mmm, more! L-Loki!” You managed to cry out between breaths.

Loki could sense your need because he pulled that bothersome green dress over your head and continued to kiss you all over your hot, tortured skin.

”Did you wear my favorite color on purpose, my love?” Loki teased you, sucking your earlobe into his mouth.

The sensation was ticklish, and made you squirm.

“Perhaps,” you giggled. You never giggled like this. Who was this woman who was so quickly undone by the touch of a man?

“You looked ravishing in it.” Loki whispered hotly into your ear. “I couldn’t stop staring at you all night.”

He kissed down your body once again, hands holding your wrists above your head so that you couldn’t escape his grip.

“It made my mind wander, my love.” Loki confessed to you now. “To a dark and hungry place. You don’t know how long you’ve tortured my mind,” another kiss, “and my heart.”

“How many times have you thought about…” a groan of pleasure broke through your lips, “a-about having me, Loki?” You strained out the question as your back arched from Loki’s teeth on your nipples.

Loki spread your thighs now, looking down at the glistening sheen of your core. You were more than prepared for him to enter. His mind seemed far away as he stared down at you.

“Beyond counting.” His answer came out in a whisper.

He couldn’t believe this was finally happening. All the years of watching, of longing for your glance. Searching for your attention, your affection. And you would give it to him, in your laughter at his sarcastic remarks, in the comfortable silence of reading side by side in the library. In your knowing eye contact across a crowded room, or a confident nod on the battlefield. He had your trust, he had your friendship, but now, at long last…

He had your love.

You mistook Loki’s hesitation for uncertainty on your part.

But you felt a certainty deep in your soul. You had never been more sure of your decision in your life. You and Loki—there could never have been any other.

This was right.

This was good.

This was love.

“You need not wait any longer, my love.” You spoke with a softness you have not been able to voice in years. Loki was bringing out sides of you that you didn’t know you had.

At your words, Loki pushed into you for the first time, his ears ringing with your endearment over and over.

My Love.

“Ah!” A gasp wrenched from your throat. The initial breach—painful and sharp— was immediately soothed with throbbing waves of pleasure. “L-Loki! It feels—!”

He thrust forward, harder, deeper into you. His hands pulled the back of your knees into himself so he could gain even more access to your wettened, clenching core.

My Love.

You could feel the stretch, the penetration. The sensation teetered on the edge of pleasure and pain unlike anything you had known before. Your body responded, molded to his size, as if it were made for sex. Made for his cock. Made for him.

My Love.

Loki’s arms wrapped around you now, and he pressed his chest to yours. His hips slammed down, pulling out only to push in once again. Ravenous. Hungry. Passionate. Your hands found his hair and held on, your bodies twisted and tangled like only lovers could.

A keening whine released from your lungs. It was overwhelming being fucked by Loki. It was so sinfully good and you didn’t know how much more you could take. And yet, at the same time, you felt utterly insatiable.

“Mmmh! S-so much! It’s so much!” You whimpered.

Sweat dripped down the side of his face from the exertion. On impulse, you licked it. Salty and tangy. A taste that belonged solely to your lover.

Loki whipped his head back to look at you in surprise. A smile lit up his whole face and he looked like the carefree boy from your youth.

And it made you fall for him all over again.

Somehow, in each other's arms, you could forget the pain, forget the sufferings the both of you had endured.

Tonight, with Loki’s body wrapped in yours, as close as any two people could be, you felt a serenity and a fullness that could only be found in a soulmate.

“Ah!” You squealed. “My love, slow down a moment.” You panted out after a particularly rough thrust.

You kissed his flushed face. “I want to savor this.”

Loki paused, his face scrunched up from passion, now relaxed into affection. You had a feeling he could keep going for hours without tiring. You, on the other hand, had already come once.

“Of course, my dear.”

He carefully eased out of you, and your core clamped down, unwilling to let go. The slow stretch and pull was an encaptivating sensation, well-lubricated by your juices.

“Ohhhh my gods!” You mewled, a high-pitched, desperate sound. Loki, for his part, gasped at the sudden pressure on his cock. Then he groaned as he felt you throb into another orgasm.

Twice. Now he had made you come twice. After the peak of your high passed, your core finally released him and Loki fell back heavily on the bed.

He stared at you with the most gobsmacked expression. “T-that was incredible.”

You slowly sat up, legs shaking, chest heaving. You reached for him and Loki scrambled to hold you. You rested your spinning head on his shoulder, trying to calm down.

“One more,” you murmured into his skin once you had recovered your senses. “I want one more.”

“Anything for you, my love.” Loki obeyed you without question, but this time, he let you set the pace.

Gingerly, now suddenly aware of how sore your pussy was becoming, you climbed into his lap and held his cock in your right hand. The weight surprised you, and you squeezed it gently, feeling how firm he still was.

“C-careful my darling!” Loki gasped out. “I don’t want to come before you do.”

“Is that so?” You teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. Loki recognized that look. It was the look you had right before you bested him. Right before you knew victory was imminent.

Before he could react, you brought your lips down to his cock and sucked him in fervently.

“Oh hells!” Loki growled. He almost crushed your head in his hands, and you couldn’t tell if he was trying to pull you off, or push you down further.

Regardless, you pulled his cock in as deep as it could go. Your tongue wrapped around the shaft, sliding and slipping along his generous length. Somehow the taste of him made you hungrier for more.

You slowly released him and kissed all around his member. You gave particular attention to the head, running your tongue along its smooth, sensitive surface. His cock started to tremble, and you could tell Loki was almost at his limit.

“P-please my dear!” Loki’s voice broke out in a hoarse gasp. “P-please—I want to come inside you, for our first time.”

The god of mischief had resorted to begging. Another thrill of power licked through you.

A woman's lips on his cock — a noteworthy weak point that you will definitely use against him later.

“Alright, alright.” You acquiesced with another cheeky kiss to his cock. “Come inside me.”

With shaky hands, Loki guided you on top of his lap, his knees fallen to the wayside to make space for your curvaceous bottom. He firmly grasped his cock to let you slowly sink down.

Your core split and stretched for him once more, and you couldn’t help but cry out again. You knew you would never tire of the pleasure that was Loki’s cock fucking your pussy wide open.

“L-Loki!” You whined, nails digging into his shoulders, trying to control the descent and being pushed into so deeply.

“I know my love,” Loki comforted you, “you can do this. You can take me.”

With another moan, finally, you bottomed out and Loki kissed you soundly. You were so full, so utterly complete with him inside you.

“You did so good,” Loki breathed into your mouth. “So good for me.”

He continued to murmur sweet nothings as his lips pressed gentle kisses all over your face. You naturally began to roll your hips into his, and you could feel the press of his cock inside your core with every motion.

“You feel so—!”

“Incredible.” Loki finished for you in a low voice. “You’re incredible.”

Loki pressed his face into your bosom as you continued to undulate in his lap in a sensual slow dance chasing your pleasure. Each rock of your pelvis was enough to make Loki—and yourself—vocalize just how good you felt around his cock.

“Mmm!” Loki groaned into your chest for the umpteenth time. “Can you take more, my love?”

At this point, your own movements were not hitting how you wanted it to. You could feel the build up to your third orgasm was coming, but you couldn’t quite get the sweet spot you were itching for.

“Y-yes!” You mewled greedily. “More—I want more!”

With your consent, Loki grabbed his arm behind your back, locking you into himself. The air was squeezed out of your lungs from the strength of his grasp.

Then he slammed his hips up.

Fast.

Hard.

And without stopping.

“L-Loki! Oh my gods!” You screamed out. The pace was unlike anything Loki had done earlier in the night. This was what it was like to have sex with a god. And you knew Loki wouldn’t rest until he made you both cum.

He bounced you on his cock incessantly as if you were weightless. Your core, a flood of wetness you didn’t know your body was capable of. The smell of sweat, sex, and the intermingling of your scents filled the air.

Cries of lust, of pleasure, of unfettered desire echoed off the high-ceilings of his bedchamber.

“My love!” You gasped, your voice broken into pieces. “I can’t anymore!”

“Yes, you can!” Loki gritted out, “Take it! Take all of me!”

All at once, the world spun to a stop and you fixed your gaze on the emerald eyes of your lover, ablaze with arousal.

You loved him.

You wanted him.

So much that your body ached, trembled, practically vibrated for him.

At once, an electric current sparked through your every nerve and the orgasm hit you like lightening.

A pleasure so strong, it robbed your lungs of air, your eyes of sight, your ears of sound.

But you could feel.

You felt the hot, slickness of his cock eject into your core. The throb of his member as he thrust into you one more time.

You felt his body shaking from the power of his own orgasm, his arms rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

Eventually, you slumped down into him, and you registered his gentle encouragements in your ear.

“You did so good for me. You were amazing, my love.” Loki murmured into your hair, holding you with a softness you knew he only showed to you and no other.

The two of you fell into familiar stillness. You, soothed into slumber from the rise and fall of his breath and the relaxation that only comes from orgasmic bliss.

Loki, on the other hand, stared out into the stars outside his window, wondering if tonight was truly real, or just a dream.

Did you really profess your love to him? Did he really spend the night making love to you? And you not only let him, but you wanted it?

You wanted him?

He must have spoken that last bit aloud because he heard a sleepy whisper from you.

“I want you, my love.” You sighed into his chest as you fell asleep. “Always.”

“Always.” He echoed in awe.

“Aw, it still has a sense of humor.” Loki said. 

“Bite me, asshole.”

Loki smiled, “Only if you ask nicely.”

“Enough you two,” Thor cut in, his voice deep and demanding. “Loki, have you seen mother?”

“A meeting, I believe.”

Two sets of heavy gold doors suddenly opened. “I’m here.”

As Thor launched into a long winded explanation of what had happened, Frigga turned her full attention onto you. 

Between the heat of your body, despite the fact you felt like you’d been shoved under a constant freezing shower, and the pain beginning to grow in your bones, you could barely register the feeling of her hand on your forehead. 

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice gentle. “You’re going to be alright here. Our Doctors are some of the best.”

The smile on her face reminded you of Loki, though it was more warming to your soul than twisting to your stomach. 

“It’s a good job you brought her when you did.”

“Are you sure?” Loki asked, loud enough for you to hear. 

With a groan, you looked at Frigga. “Your son’s an asshole.”

Frigga, in the same way you’d seen Thor do, tried her best to hide her smile. “Ignore him, dear. He’s just being a pest because he’s not the centre of attention.”

“Hey!”

Through the pain, you managed to crack a smile. “Ha, I knew I’d like you.” Then, you managed to look at Loki as he stood on the other side of the bed. “I like your mom.”

Loki hummed, though it was all in good humor. “Well, she has her favourites.”

You managed to smile, but it quickly turned as a large pain shot throughout your body. 

“Mother, there must be something you can do.” Thor was standing somewhere by your feet, not that you could make him out through the tears in your eyes. 

Frigga nodded, determined. “There is. But I’ll need the room. And time.”

“How much time?”

Frigga looked at her sons. “I’ll come and get you when I’m finished. Oh, and boys? Ready the blue room. It’ll be calming for her once she’s in recovery.”

Loki and Thor nodded before taking their leave and Frigga began giving her orders to the staff, as they brought herbs and liquids. 

“Now, dear, I can’t promise this will be pleasant but I can promise you, it will work.”

Still shaking, you nodded. “What…whatever you need to do.”

“Brave girl.”

You passed out from the pain after fifteen minutes of her beginning her cure. 

“Will she be alright?” Loki asked his brother as they watched staff prepare the Blue Room. 

Thor didn’t know what to say. “Mother will take care of her. Since when do you care for her wellbeing?”

Loki shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t, but I don’t like the idea of her dying, either.”

“I need to go.”

“What?”

Loki tracked his brother’s movements as he travelled down the hall, past the next bedroom which Loki just happened to be staying in, and towards the exit. 

“Thor-”

“I need to find out where she’s been in the last week. I need to know where she contracted this infection.”

“You can’t just leave her here.”

Thor smiled as he turned and looked at his brother. “Sure I can. She’s got you.”

“Wha- no. Thor, no.”

“Yes.” Thor said. “You said it yourself, you care for her wellbeing.”

“No,” Loki corrected. “I said I don’t like the idea of her dying.”

Thor shrugged. “Same thing. Take care of her, brother.”

Loki shouted after him, but he was already flying towards the rainbow bridge. 

“Shit.”

“My Prince?”

Loki turned quickly on his heels to see a familiar member of staff. 

“Your mother is asking for you.”

Five minutes later, passing the golden hallways and the newly finished bedroom, Loki was entering through the heavy golden doors. 

“How is she?”

“Sleeping,” Frigga told her son. 

The final cohort of the nurses had passed him in the hallway just as he entered. Now, it was just himself, his mother and you. 

Loki let his fingers trail beside you on your bed before, without thinking, he reached out as gently brushed the hair away from your forehead. 

“She’ll be okay,” Frigga said, a warm smile on her face, as she approached the table. “She’s a strong woman.”

“Strong willed, strong-headed.”

Frigga nodded. “All the best of us are.”

Loki smiled, looking towards his mother, before looking back at you. 

Laying on the golden top table, you still looked as drained as when he first saw you. But, you were no longer in pain. Your breathing was steady and even, as was your heart rate. 

You’d be okay. 

But it would be a process for your body to recover from. 

“She’s going to need a friend,” Frigga mentioned, seeing the way Loki looked at you. “When she wakes.”

A wall came up inside of him as he stepped away and let you go. 

“I-I’m not really a friend.”

“Perhaps not before,” Frigga hummed. “But she’ll still be in need of a familiar face.”

There was a pained expression on his face as he looked to his mother, before his gaze landed back on your sleeping one. 

“Hopefully…hopefully Thor will find his answers soon. Then he can be her familiar face.”

You remained asleep for five days. 

And in those five days, as different maids and nurses came to check on you, and change you, it became a rare occurrence to not see Loki by your bedside. 

“What are you doing here?”

Loki looked up from his book to see you, finally, awake. Upon closing his book, he smiled. 

“I live here.”

You scowled, trying to move. “Were you watching me sleep?”

He held up his book. “It’s pretty interesting. The female lead pretends to hate the male lead, but she’s actually in love with him.”

You barked a laugh.

“How are you feeling?”

Settling against the pillows, you sighed. “Aching. Sore. A little dizzy.”

Loki nodded. “That’s all normal.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Five days.”

“Did you find out what it was?”

Loki nodded. “Thor’s currently trying to find its origin in case anyone else contracted it. To us, it’s like a common cold. But, to mortals…”

“It sends us to our death bed.”

“Pretty much.”

You let out a puff of air. “Bet you were praying for it to work on me.”

Loki nodded. “Oh, certainly. I’d at least get a floor to myself in your so-called Tower.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh, please. You could just share with Thor.”

“I already have done that for the last thousand years. I don’t need another thousand of it.”

Again, you chuckled. And so did Loki. But you couldn’t lie and think about what it meant since it wasn’t long before his mother, Frigga, and some of her ladies-maids waltzed in and kicked Loki out. 

With a small bow, he closed both doors as he made his exit. 

Going through similar questions with Frigga, she helped you bathe and get dressed into Asgardian robes which had you questioning the quality of your own clothes at home. 

“I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet,” you said, turning to face Frigga properly. 

“No need, dear.”

You nodded. “But I do. You saved my life, so…without knowing how I can repay you…thank you. For everything.”

Frigga smiled a warm and gentle smile as she took your hands in hers. “You are welcome, my dear. But you needn’t worry. And, although I have to admit, it’s not the way I thought we would have met, I am glad to finally be meeting you.”

“You are?”

“Loki has mentioned your name a few times. Still does, especially when he talks of his time on your Earth.”

“He has?”

Frigga nodded. “Oh, yes.”

You chuckled a little, watching as she let your hands go and crossed the room towards the shelves. 

What followed turned out to be the three weirdest weeks of your life. 

You began to learn about Asgard and their people, about Frigga and how she became Queen of Asgard. You began to hear stories of when Thor and Loki were just kids. 

And, perhaps the oddest thing of all, you saw Loki. 

And not just physically. 

You began to see him. 

Was he still an asshole? Yes. You figured he always would be. He wouldn’t be a Trickster without being a little bit of an asshole. 

But you saw how he treated the people around him. And how he treated his mother. You saw how he acted when he was alone, thinking no-one was watching him. 

There was something calming about him. 

For a while, you stood in the doorway of his room which was right next door to yours. He was no longer in his full royal attire but rather trousers and a shirt. 

Having discarded his black tie over the back of one of the chairs, he was walking back and forth between his desk and the floor to ceiling bookcase. 

Most of the time, his nose was buried in at least one book. Though, you had seen him read two at the same time, flipping between the chapters as he made notes in a completely different book. 

“I didn’t think you’d be like this.”

Loki almost tripped over himself as he turned and looked towards his door to see you. “Y/n.”

Slowly, you walked inside. “I thought you might have been sleeping in a cave, upside down like a bat. And only ever coming out to, I don’t know, pull dark pranks on people you wanted revenge on.”

“I still do, but I tend to leave that for the winter.”

You cracked a smile, rounding his desk, feeling his eyes trace every single movement you made. But at no point did he try to stop you from snooping. 

“Instead, you’re…a librarian, an entertainer, and a mediator. When you want to be.”

“I find it more entertaining harbouring peace in my home, these days, than I used to.”

“It’s a good look on you.”

Loki cocked his head a little, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Was that a compliment?”

“I’ll deny it if anyone asks me.”

He chuckled, his laugh a little more breathy. “Of course. Anything I can help with?”

“It’s more what could I help you with,” you pointed out. “I’ve been watching you for the last ten minutes-”

“Now who’s the stalker?”

“And you seem to have your hands full.”

Loki studied you for a moment. “Recovery is getting to you, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never been more bored.”

Loki laughed, walking forward and dropping the book he’d been holding onto his desk. “Well, in that case, welcome. I’m sure you’ll be running back to the bi-frost in no time.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t. Instead, it became a highly entertaining evening as you helped Loki sort through his books as he hunted through each of them for information that might help Thor in his search for the origin of your infection. 

However, as the moon began to creep into the sky, a long needed tiredness began to take over. And, just as the moon passed its highest point in the sky, you fell asleep on Loki’s bedroom desk. 

The moment he noticed, Loki quietly shut his book and tidied up a little before laying a gentle hand on your shoulder. When you didn’t wake, he chuckled and leaned down. 

In two delicate movements, Loki lifted you in his arms and began to carry you back towards your bedroom. According to his mother, your recovery was still on-going, so falling asleep at a desk wouldn’t exactly help speed up that time. 

“Shush,” Loki whispered quietly to you as he laid you down in your bed and you woke for a brief moment. “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

You hummed in your sleep before turning onto your side. 

For a moment, he took a mental image of you. Often, when he visited your planet, you seemed…worn. Tired. Exhausted from the fights you had to carry out in order to save the people around you, as well as make it home safe. And, often, there was also a scowl on your face when it came to looking at him. 

But, over the last three weeks, that scowl had slowly transitioned into a light smile that you couldn’t hide, even if you tried. There were still times you scowled at him, but it wasn’t as deep-seated as the others had been. 

Reaching out, Loki pushed the fallen hair away from your face and back against your pillow. Finally, covering your sleeping frame with the blankets, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to your temple. 

“Sweet dreams, Y/n.”

And you did. Except, what you woke up to wasn’t as sweet. 

“Well, how long has she been here?! She’s no more use than that last mortal idiot who-”

“She’s not an idiot, and her name is Y/n!”

Loki’s voice had echoed throughout the hallways so much that everything that made a noise in the silence following his exclamation was almost deafening. 

“Dear, she was sick and she is still in need of recovery,” Frigga’s voice carried towards your room, followed by footsteps. 

“Really? How quickly did she pass out when you started to heal her? Ten, twenty seconds?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

The footsteps came to a halt. And the hallways became deadly silent. Even the soft ruffling of your bed covers felt loud in your ear drums. 

The trio began talking again, however quieter. And barely thirty seconds later, with Loki’s voice carrying a plea of, “Father-”, the doors to your room opened without a single knock. 

Yet, all three stared at the empty but made bed before their eyes turned around the room and landed on you. 

“Odin, I presume?" 

“Ms Y/n?”

You nodded, watching as Frigga reached out and held onto her son’s wrist whilst Odin began walking towards you. 

“My wife tells me you lasted fifteen minutes before you passed out from the pain of her cure. I have to say, even I haven’t lasted that long under the duress of pain.”

You shrugged. “Women have been known to have a higher pain tolerance.”

Odin laughed, turning to look at his wife. “She’s smart.”

Frigga smiled. “Told you I liked her.”

Odin turned back to you once more. “My son also tells me you work with my other son, back on your home planet.”

You nodded. “I do. Well- I try. Both of your sons seem to have a mind of their own, most of the time.”

You were glad to catch a glimpse of Loki’s smile. It warmed something inside of you. 

“I see,” Odin said as he studied you. “Well, stay for as long as you need. My son has spoken highly of you, but he has also told me you're rather…bored. Perhaps I can find some use for you here. At least until you return home.”

You smiled, “Happy to help where I can.”

Odin nodded before finally bidding you good-day and going about his business for the day. 

“So that’s Odin.”

Loki nodded. “That’s Odin.”

A little over a week later, when you thought all the weird was gone, a shock came to your system. 

For the last month, whilst you’d been recovering on Asgard, yourself and Loki had come to an…unspoken deal. That, for the sake of those around, you would both keep the verbal jousting to a minimum. 

What you hadn’t calculated, however, was that it left an open space for you to begin to see Loki. And it gave him space to see you. 

And, somewhere within four weeks and that space that just kept seemingly growing, you and Loki had become friends. Of sorts. 

Late nights, you worked together. He at his desk, you at yours. But, somewhere between supper and midnight, you’d migrate together. 

As you sat criss-crossed on the sofa, Loki sat on the floor beside you. When you needed a script, he’d hand it over to you, and you’d find the information he was in need of, from the book that laid open on your lap. 

Some mornings you’d wake in your bed, despite knowing you’d definitely fallen asleep on the sofa. Other mornings, you’d still be asleep, but Loki would be on the floor beside you, your hands barely an inch from each other. 

Most days, you talked to each other. He explained a few things about Asgard before telling you stories he’d never told anyone. Not because they were a secret, but simply because he’d never felt the need or the want to before. 

Teasing you over your Mid-gardian style, Loki would lay in wait for you to eventually tell him stories of your own childhood, or of working with the Avengers. 

And when you did, he saw you light up in a way that had been rare before Thor had brought you home. 

To his home. 

But, now, you are leaving. 

“He loves you dearly, my child.” 

You jumped a little at the voice that came from behind you. For the last two minutes, you’d been watching Loki in – surprisingly – a little pain. The thought of leaving him was…you didn’t fully know what. 

What you did know was that part of you wanted to stay. 

And a small part of that was down to him. 

Turning, you smiled at Frigga. Her warming and loving smile was something you’d definitely miss. 

“Frigga.”

“He does,” she told you as she took your hands in her own. “More than you may ever know. More than he may ever know.”

Looking down the grand hallway, you watched as one of the servant's children ran towards Loki, showing him a picture he’d drawn of the palace. 

Loki often pretended to have no feeling towards his people. But you saw the look in his eyes when he spoke of them and you could guarantee, one hundred percent, that when you opened up the draw inside his desk, you’d find that exact picture along with two dozen others they’d drawn for him. 

“We’re just…”

“Friends?” Frigga asked. “Well, it was more than you were before you arrived here. I am going to miss you, terribly, my dear. It was nice to have another woman around this place.”

“You know, I don’t know how often you can visit other places but…if you’re ever in New York…”

“That sounds wonderful, my dear.” Frigga pulled you into a motherly hug. “I might just do that.”

You smiled at her, hugging her back. 

However, what you failed to notice as you did so, was Loki turning around in the hallway and stopping just short of his office. The image of you and his mother talking and smiling and enjoying each other’s company would be a memory he’d cherish forever. 

He disappeared into his office before you could spot him, but the moment he left, you felt his absence. 

“Ready?” Hemindal asked you as you stood beside him. 

You’d said your goodbyes at the palace. Frigga had hugged you tight, Odin had bowed his head and Loki had stood there. 

Neither of you had been able to move, but you simply smiled and said goodbye. 

However, standing beside Hemindal, something small started to grow in the pit of your stomach and your arms ached for…

For Loki. 

“Wait! Y/n!”

Turning around, you spotted the Trickster running towards you. 

“Just- just give me a minute?”

Hemindal stepped back, a smile on his face. “Take your time, my lady.”

Your voice was quiet as you stepped away with a, “Thank you”, before rushing towards Loki. 

“What are you-”

Almost as if he’d read your mind, you were suddenly pulled tight against Loki before you managed to wrap your arms over his broad shoulders. 

“I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

You smiled into him. “If you make it back to Earth, this is just ‘see you later’.”

He nodded, setting you back down on your feet but continuing to hold you in his arms. “I mean it. This isn’t goodbye.”

You glared, a little playfully. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He chuckled. “Both.”

“Good.” 

As Loki’s gaze bore into yours, he smiled a little more. “I’m glad we’re friends now.”

“So am I.”

But I wish we could be more, said a quiet voice in the back of your head. You hadn’t been expecting it, but it wasn’t a thought you wanted to disappear too quickly. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” you told him once you made it back to Hemindal. 

“I promise,” Loki smiled as he waved you off. 

Then you were back home. Back to work. Back to reality and Earth. Constantly thinking about the last person you thought would ever be on your mind. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/n,” Bruce said, shaking his hand in front of your face to grab your attention. 

“Yeah? Sorry.”

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked, a breathy chuckle leaving him. “You’ve been kinda distracted lately.”

You nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Just…in my own head, I guess. I’ll focus more, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged it off. “Don’t worry about it. What’s going on? Is this, like, a side effect of the Asgardian Flu?”

You shook your head, a tired smile on your face. “No, just me. I’ll try and focus more.”

Bruce just shook his head as if to say Don’t worry about it, but he kept his eye on you. 

You continued to work at the same pace you always did, but it was almost like your body was on auto-pilot. You were doing calculations to the fabric of the universe whilst physically building something from the opposite side of science. 

“She’s not ill, is she?” Kate asked. 

Joaquin shook his head. “No. Asgardian’s fixed that problem.”

“Could she be constipated?”

The pair turned and looked at Scott who had just appeared. 

“What? She looks pensive.”

“Who are we stalking?” Thor asked, scaring the trio practically shitless. “Sorry.”

Kate hitched a thumb over her shoulder towards you in your lab. “Y/n. She’s quiet. And we’re trying to figure out why.”

Thor, as he crouched with the three of them, looked towards you. “Oh, she’s in love.”

Then he walked away. 

“What?!” Kate and Joaquin shouted as they looked at each other before racing after Thor. 

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, catching up to them. 

“She’s in love,” he repeated, as if it didn’t just shatter their view of you. 

“With who?”

“My brother. Ah, there’s the kitchen.”

The trio looked between each other before racing after Thor once again. Finally pushing their way into the kitchen, they found Thor opening a box of pop-tarts. 

“As in…Loki?”

Thor laughed. “Who else?”

“But they hate each other.”

“And,” Thor began. “I left them alone for a month. Together. I believe it’s called Forced Proximity. At least, that’s what Darcy told me it’s called. Apparently it’s in her new favourite book.”

“You…you used a romance book as…as a manual?”

Thor thought on it for a moment as he chewed on his poptart. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And we’re sure it’s Loki?” Joaquin asked. 

Thor nodded. “Of course. But, he’s been in love with her for a lot longer so I guess he’s had time to deal with it.”

“WHAT?!”

Thor nodded. “Yeah, like, what? Three years?”

“Three- Oh, my god.” 

“Whoa,” Kate said, catching Scott with Joaquin’s help. 

“I think I need to sit down.”

“Yeah,” Joaquin agreed. “You and us both.”

“What do you mean he’s been in love with her for three years? They’ve done nothing but fight for three years.” Kate pointed out. 

Thor shrugged. “Loki is a trickster. He knows how to keep people from seeing the truth. You’ll spot the signs eventually, it just takes a couple hundred years. Give or take.”

“Give or ta-” Scott ran a hand down his face. “Do you have orange slices? I feel like I’ve just shrunk from being big, again.”

Kate nodded and ran towards the fridge to grab them. 

“Thor, how much do you know about your brother’s feelings towards Y/n?”

What followed was a three hour story of how Thor came to realise Loki was in love with you, and how he’d hidden it all this time. 

The biggest give away was the fact you were the one repeated name in his stories when he spoke to his mother. 

And, despite the annoyed tone, both Thor and his mother could hear the admiration behind his voice. 

Then came the day Loki himself realised he was in love with you. It came six months after meeting you. He’d been helping Thor and the rest of the team with a Hydra…thing when Sam had pulled, in your words, “The most reckless and stupidest move ever known to the history of man.”. 

Wilson had nearly gotten himself killed and you chewed him out on it. And when the others tried to step in to calm you, you chewed them out too. 

However, when Loki held out his hands and stepped forward, you’d turned before he could even fully plant his foot on the ground. 

“Hey!” 

Your finger pointing at him, your eyes remained on his. Your breathing was heavy and your eye contact felt deeper than ever. But…you didn’t chew him out. You didn’t shout or yell at him. 

You just stared. Like a silent conversation was taking place. 

You never said a word until you turned back to the others, yelling at them to “Never do that again!”. 

As you took your leave from the hallway, Loki remained in shock as his eyes trailed after you. Part of Loki wanted you to have yelled at him. He got a kick out of your verbal spars with him. But there was something deeper about him wanting to talk to you at the moment. There was something deeper about why he wanted to follow you down the hall and make sure you were okay. 

But, he didn’t. 

Instead, when he returned home, he paced around the palace for three days before returning back to earth where he was told he’d be sharing a floor with you since he wasn’t there often and it was the only other floor that held a spare, but separate, room. 

Then he paced for another three days until he’d finally accepted his conclusion. 

After that, he became more simple than he thought. 

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe we’re Avengers.” Scott announced. 

They all turned to look at him. 

“We’re meant to know, like, everything. And we can’t even see when one of us has feelings for someone?”

“We’re…” Joaquin was lacking in excuses. “Avengers. Not Detectives.”

“Good one,” Kate whispered quietly. 

Joaquin held out his fist and Kate bumped her own against it. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, how did we miss this?” Scott asked. 

As the days began to turn into weeks, more and more Avengers joined the trio in watching your movements. 

You were still on auto-pilot when you worked, but when you were just sitting still, all you could do was think. They tried talking to you, but no reply would come. Not that they blamed you. 

Finding out you're in love with the last person you ever thought you’d even catch feelings for, took a lot of time to sink in. 

They could practically hear the cogs turning in your head. 

“Should we help her?”

Scott shook his head, eating from the bowl of popcorn. “No. Hope says she’s got to figure it out for herself. That way she knows it’s real.”

“But she’s been like this for almost a month. I don’t like it,” Joaquin said before pouring some of his m&ms into Kate’s hand. 

“I don’t like it either,” Kate whispered. “But Scott’s right- well, Hope. We can’t interfere.”

An idea struck him. “What if we don’t?”

Scott stared at him for a while. “Nope, you’ve lost me.”

“We don’t have to interfere,” Joaquin said. “But we know someone who could.”

Kate clicked her tongue. “Sam and Bucky both agreed with Hope-”

“Not them. Though, that does surprise me that they don’t want to meddle. No. I was thinking of someone a little more…God-like.”

It took four days of planning but the trio finally had an idea sorted out. 

And the minute Kate saw the flash of light outside her room, she ran directly down the hall, banged on Joaquin’s door before throwing herself inside. 

“Look outside.”

Shoving him closer to the window, she pointed. “See him?”

Joaquin smiled. “I see him.”

The moment Loki stared up at the Avengers building, he wiped his hand nervously on his legs. He hadn’t seen you in just over two months, and yet you hadn’t left his thoughts once. 

He’d been dealing with the same thing for close to four years, but not once in those four years had either of you been friends. Not once in those four years could he have held out hope that you might be happy to see him. 

But after your stay on Asgard…he wasn’t so certain that stuffing the hope away was the right thing to do. 

You told him not to be a stranger, hadn’t you? And that you were glad he was your friend? 

Or had that all been a dream? 

“Brother!” 

The greeting was the same as always. Care, if a little caution. But, all in all, the evening was fun. Games were played, stories were told. 

But Loki couldn’t help but notice someone was missing. 

You. 

“Looking for someone in particular, Loki?”

Loki turned, forcing a laugh into his drink. “I have no idea what you mean, brother.”

Thor nodded with a knowing smile before leaning a little closer. “She has a new lab on the third floor. We’ve all tried to get her to leave it. Perhaps you might have a little more luck?”

As Thor picked up a bottle of tequila and walked away, Loki took all of thirty seconds to decide to go in search of you. 

And it wasn’t long until he found you. 

Just like Thor had told him, you had a new lab on the third floor. In fact, it made up the entirety of the third floor. 

“The way I hear it, you’re missing one hell of a party.”

You yelped a little, dropping the spanner from your hand into the tray table in front of you. 

Turning, you found Loki leaning against one of the storage units, fiddling with one of the broken web shooters Peter had asked you to take a look at. 

“Loki,” your voice came out with a smile on your face. “You’re here.”

Smiling at you, Loki placed the web shooter back before strolling closer to you. For a moment, you tried to keep yourself busy. 

Holding onto your spanner once more, you started to work on your current project. You needed to do something that kept your hands from shaking in his presence. 

“I missed you upstairs.”

You nodded, slowly. “Yeah, I, uh, I guess I just lost track of time.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

A smile appeared on your face again as you looked towards his own. “Uh, no. No, I don’t think so. But thank you.”

Loki simply nodded and took a small step back from your working table. 

“Are you alright?” He asked as he took a turn around your lab. 

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

Loki turned slowly on his heel and looked at you with an intrigued expression. You had answered his question way too quickly. Even by your standards. 

“Well, I know that’s a lie.”

“It’s not a lie.” 

You lied again. He knew you had. You knew he knew you had. 

Shit. 

You sighed, “It’s not something you can help with.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I wish you could. Believe me, it’s taken me months and I still haven’t…”

Your eyes locked with his from across your lab as your sentence died away. 

Maybe you were right. Maybe he is the last person, but he’s also the first…

“Figured it out,” you eventually managed to finish, although slightly breathless. 

There was an edge to Loki’s smirk as he looked at you with a small courteous nod. “Well,” he said. “Here’s to hoping you figure it out soon.”

“Yeah.” 

“So…” Loki continued, “How have you been?”

You back to him, a little relieved he’d fallen back into ‘Asgard’ territory. At least, that’s what you’d been calling it in your head. 

Most normal people would probably just call it being civil and talking. 

“Well, whatever your mom’s magic did, it seemed to cure pretty much everything inside of me.”

“Including your ‘cold, dead heart’?”

You chuckled. “Ooh, no. Sorry. I’m afraid nothing can cure that.”

Loki laughed, and so did you. But in the silence of it all you started to realise that maybe, just maybe, that ‘cold, dead heart’ you’d once spoken of, was thawed and beginning to warm. 

Especially towards Loki. 

“How is your mother?”

“She’s well. She asks about you often. I believe she wishes to visit you soon.”

The normal side of talking continued for…you didn’t know how long. But it was long enough for Kate to get drunk on Asgardian liquor and come running to find you. 

“How long do you think she’s gonna be hungover for?” 

When Kate had come down to your lab, blabbing about…something (most of her words were slurred. The most you could make out was “I love you guys, so much,”) yourself and Loki had carried her to bed. 

“Asgardian liquor can have different effects depending on the mortal. How is she with normal liquor?”

You shrugged. “Depends on the type and the quantity. I banned her from tequila when she cried for three hours and then proceeded to send pinterest pictures of cute animals to her ex.”

Loki couldn’t help but chuckle. Both at the information, and the way you reported it. Almost like it was an announcement on the evening news. 

“I’ll stick around for a few days. Thor’s been given an assignment and I’ve suffered through enough of those hangovers to know the better cures.”

You smiled, “Thank you.”

But it was only as he was bidding you goodnight after walking you to your room – despite it being in the same hallway as his own – that you realised what that meant. 

Loki was staying. 

With you. 

In the tower. 

For more time than usual. 

On a normal day, before Asgard, you would have ignored him to the best of your ability. But now he was your friend. And…and the person you wanted more with. 

You managed to survive three days, which is more than you could say for Kate who had been dealing with the world’s worst hangover, quite literally. 

“Here, drink up.”

Loki placed a tall glass of something blue in front of her. 

“What is it?” Kate couldn’t even open her eyes as she looked up. 

The minute she sniffed it, she gagged. 

“Oh, my god,” she drew out. “What the hell is that?”

“Probably best you don’t ask questions.”

With a grimace, she looked at Loki before looking at you. You could only nod and look at Loki. He looked like he was going through it with Kate. 

“Here goes nothing.”

It took Kate all of an hour to finish the drink without throwing up. 

“I’ll make you another one in three hours.”

As Kate made a wretching noise, you led her back to her room which smelled a little less of alcohol stained clothes. 

“That was totally disgusting.”

“Just lay down and try to get some sleep. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.”

Kate shook her head. “I can’t eat. Not after that drink. Just…wake me up when the next century hits.”

Chuckling lightly, you covered her up and closed the blinds until her room was encased in darkness. 

It took you ten minutes to get out of her room without bruising yourself…again. 

“Sleeping?” Loki asked as he met you in the hallway. 

You nodded. “For now. She says to wake her up next century.”

“Noted.” Loki nodded along. “I’ve made some tea, if you’d care for a cup?”

With a tired sigh, you followed him back to the kitchen. “Love one.”

“Solve your problem yet?” 

Laying the steaming cup down, you shook your head. “Not yet. But I’m close. I think.”

The edge that had taken over his smirk three days ago suddenly reappeared. “Let me know when you do. I figure whatever it is, will have an interesting conclusion.”

“Maybe,” you agreed. But you weren’t fully convinced. 

After all, how could the last person on any planet be the first person you’d thought of in a romantic futuristic sense. Sure, there had been past relationships and dreams but, when it came to Loki, it all felt more real somehow. 

Like, if you said them outloud, they would come true. 

And you didn’t know if that scared you shitless, or intrigued you to the point of excitement.

But it all came to a head one night just a little after two in the morning. 

You’d fallen asleep just a few hours before, comfortable in bed, only to wake in a cold sweat and someone calling your name softly. 

“Loki?”

“Yeah,” his voice was softer than usual. “It’s me.” 

He whispered in the darkness of your room, his hands reaching out to hold you.

It was the first time you’d felt comforted. Though, with a mother like Frigga, you shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“I-I couldn’t-”

Loki nodded. “I know. It’s okay. You’re safe. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

“It felt so real.”

Smoothing down your hair, Loki mumbled light words into your temple before pressing a kiss in the same spot. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe.”

A small gasp left you. “Did I wake you- Loki, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “No. No, Jarvis alerted me. And I’m glad he did. Can I get you anything?”

You shook your head, still a little out of it. “Can you stay?”

“Of course.”

In the comfort of darkness, you let Loki wrap himself around you like a protection barrier from the nightmares you’d just suffered through. 

Laying in between his legs and on his chest, his palm settled over your head. “Rest now, my love. You can rest now. You’re safe.”

Only when he was certain you’d drifted off did he add, “I love you.”

Waking in the morning, you found your position barely changed. Loki’s arms were still around you, only you lay facing each other. Beneath the new addition of a green blanket, no doubt conjured up by the Trickster God himself, your legs tangled and wrapped around his own as if he was your own personal anchor to the real world. 

When he finally woke, you both just laid there. Neither one of you moved, nor did you say a word. 

The longer the heavy silence carried out, however, you came to a conclusion. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” you admitted, a little confused by yourself. 

“Is that your conclusion to your problem?” A small smile toyed on Loki’s lips as he spoke. 

“I think so. I just…I don’t know for certain.”

“What’s holding you back?”

“Our beginning. I mean, we hated each other, didn’t we?”

A breathy, quiet laugh left Loki. “I never hated you. I never could. And, for whatever you may be thinking, I don’t think you hated me either.”

“How could you know that?”

“Because you’re not capable of it.” Loki’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “You used to laugh over having a ‘cold, dead heart’, but you never saw how bright it shined. You care deeply, especially about the people you love. You also have an understanding of people. I’ve seen that with my own eyes. But it’s not in you to carry hatred in your heart.”

Taking in your expression, Loki continued. 

“I see you, Y/n. Even when you think no-one’s looking.”

He didn’t know it (or maybe he did), but he just hit you like a freight train. And the hits just kept on coming. 

His smile was soft. Genuine. “I’ve waited a thousand years to even have the chance to meet someone like you, Y/n. You can take your time to figure us out. I’ll wait forever for you, if you’ll let me.”

I love you enough to leave, if that’s what you want me to do. But please don’t. 

Unsure of what to say, you did the only thing you could think of. You reached out for him. Though you didn’t have to reach far. 

Still tangled with him, you softly laid your palm on his cheek and watched as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment and he leaned into your touch. 

Almost as if it was second nature to him, Loki laid his own hand over yours as he turned his head. He pressed a long kiss to your palm before opening his eyes once again. 

He was slow to hold you and remove it from his face, though at no point did he drop it. Instead, he held it in both of his hands before his fingers traced each line of your hand as if imagining the parts of your life he hadn’t seen. 

All the parts of your life that led you to him. To your (fateful) first meeting. To your stay on Asgard. To this very moment, lay in his arms, finally knowing some of what he’d been carrying for you for almost four years. 

Flushing his own palm against yours, you allowed your fingers to interconnect with his own.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t have to. Enough was being said in the shared silence. 

It took two more weeks and a visit from Frigga for you to understand just how deeply the feelings you’d discovered you had for Loki ran. 

And, although you may never be able to fully comprehend how your life was destined to meet a God and have him be your First Person; especially when he was the last person you would have ever suspected it to be.

You knew one thing for absolutely certain, and that was that you loved him. And he loved you. Most likely, as Frigga said, more deeply than either of you knew. 

For Loki, you had been written in the stars for him. As for you?

For you, Loki had roots buried deep within your Life Line. 

Loki gazed down at you, brow raised in mild amusement. You were laid beneath him on cotton sheets, one of his hands braced by your head, the other lying flat along your ribcage. The latter had previously been cupping your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple, circling the peak. Your torso had lifted then, twisting away as a whimper caught in your throat, prompting a soft huff from your lover, and his gentle comment of your intolerance.

"...Kind of," you admitted, heat rising to your cheeks at the murmured truth, even as it was one he was well aware of already. "I'm sorry, I want this, really, it's just...a lot."

"You needn't apologize, I know," he murmured back, voice softening slightly in understanding. His head tilted in contemplation then, eyes meeting yours again, this time with the familiar hint of mischief. "Though I do believe we've discussed a solution to this little trait of yours, yes?"

You swallowed at the suggestion, heart stuttering at the implication of his words. You had discussed bondage before; Loki had introduced it teasingly one night as you were wrapped in his arms after a particularly intense bout of coitus, only to find that you were genuinely unopposed, which in turn led to further discussion. Still, it was only that. Discussion. The conversation had never made it past words, and the thought of it brought out your bashfulness tenfold.

"Yeah...we have."

"And has your consent on the matter changed?" he questioned, you could see the care written in his features, despite the inclination in his gaze. You shook your head embarrassingly quickly, pulse jumping at the smirk that graced his lips, dangerous and unfairly gorgeous.

"Then let us put this idea into practice, little vixen." His hands trailed upward once more, and you tried your hardest to remain still despite the way your body naturally trembled. His hands found your wrists, slowly raising them above your head, letting your heart race at the anticipation. Your hands in his reached the headboard, followed by a cool, tingly sensation accompanied by a faint green glow, the same that shone in Loki's eyes.

When he lifted his hands, you found your wrists bound by silk scarves, emerald colored, of course, tight, but not uncomfortably so. While you were fixated on your restraints, Loki's hands traveled down your sides, settling at your hips where the same glow illuminated once more, this time, prompting some invisible force to keep your hips still, forbidding any further squirming.

"This stops the moment you wish it to," Loki reminded, voice low, completely sincere.

"I don't want it to," you murmured breathlessly, a thrilled flutter in your stomach as he loomed over you, unable to squirm as you usually would. A low laugh from the god followed your words, their effect on him evident as his cock stiffened against your thigh.

"You precious thing," he murmured, cool fingers trailing down your sternum, then stomach, then thigh, uninterrupted this time. "Let me ravish you like I've intended all this time, uninterrupted"

Loki's hands slid under your thighs, gently hiking your knees up over his shoulders, their slight trembling prompting his breath to hitch. One hand dipped lower, middle and ring finger gliding just barely through your folds. Your hips twitched instinctively with the desire to buck away, a whimper sounding from your throat at the inability to do so.

"You are exquisite when you are not running from me," he mused lowly, thumb angling to rub your clit, achingly slow, torturous in your forced stillness. He slid one finger into you then, crooking easily with the lubrication of your arousal, evidence of your pleasure in this position. "By the norns you are drenched, beloved. I should have suggested this far sooner."

"Loki!" you cried out as he inserted a second finger, scissoring slowly in preparation, thumb on your clit circling as a means to sooth.

"Hush, my love, I shall take care of you," he murmured, pupils blown at the obscene squelch that sounded from your wetness; the sight of your expression - brows drawn in pleasure, jaw slightly slack, head tipped back - causing his cock to ache in its lack of stimulation, tip twitching eagerly.

Loki pulled out of you then, your juices stringing from his fingers, a soft noise of disappointment escaping you at the sudden emptiness. One hand caressed your hip soothingly, the other spreading your slick over his length, allowing himself a few independent preliminary strokes, lips parted with a soft groan.

"Loki, please," you drawled out, clit throbbing at the lack of attention, body tellingly rigid, patience far too thin already.

"Such impatience," he mused, lips twitching as he shifted your knees higher, aligning his cock with your entrance, much to your eagerness. He circled his tip around your slit, taking pleasure in your clear desire to squirm and declination of being able to do so. "I must say, I rather enjoy you like this," a pause, "though I suppose you've done wonderfully thus far, and I am a benevolent god to grant you the pleasure you seek..."

He trailed off, and any words of agreement or gratitude you had been forming were abruptly cut off by a guttural moan from your lips. Loki had plunged his cock into you with no warning, his girth stretching your walls and crooking exquisitely into that spongy spot that made your senses blur.

"Loki!" You cried, back arched upward as much as it could within your restraints, hips glued as you were compelled to take every overwhelming thrust, every movement on your end limited to a tea. "Fuck, it's so much!"

"You can take it, you will," he grunted, a low moan strung from his lips as your walls clenched around him, his fingers finding your clit once more to work you to that blissful state that he insisted you glowed in. "You," he huffed, "are doing extraordinarily."

You whined, head thrashing side to side as he focused your clit, overstimulated tears filling your eyes as he bottomed out, only to thrust deeper, harder, keeping a maddening, inescapable pace. Heat was pooling low in your belly, quicker than you could catch your breath, tension raveling tighter as Loki continued drawing you to the edge.

"I can't, I can't, Loki, I'm gonna- ah!" you stammered through sobs, thighs trembling against his shoulders. Loki's head dipped down, littering soft kisses along your collarbones, the gentleness a calmer contrast in an attempt to lull your overwhelmed state.

"I know, darling, I know," he whispered against your skin, angling his hips to hit your g-spot perfectly, drawing the knot in your belly taught, on the precipice of snapping. "You're nearly there, come for me, beloved."

Your orgasm hit you hard, crashing over you in waves that tore wrecked moans from your throat, your muscles spasming from the sheer intensity. Loki worked you through it, fingers steady on your swollen clit as he drove into you, milking every ounce of ecstasy he could from you. Your cunt squeezed his cock with every wave of pleasure, Loki's own orgasm soon chasing your own. With a few final thrusts, he pulled out, cock sprung up, thick ropes of his release spurting out onto your stomach, his head thrown back rapturously.

The two of you came down from your highs, the room sounding with your concomitant pants. Coming to, Loki gazed down at you, curls hanging around his face in a halo that made him look angelic. You met his gaze with a watery one of your own, offering a weak smile in your worn out state, your own hair mussed and sprawled out against the pillows.

"Oh my love..." he murmured softly, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb swiping away a stray tear that had rolled down your temple. "look at you, absolutely ravishing. You did beautifully."

As he praised you, the same soft glow from earlier returned, encapsulating your wrists and hips once more, removing the restraints. You flexed and stretched slightly, arms dropping to lazily grasp at whatever parts of Loki you could reach, anchoring yourself in your dazed state.

"Thank you," you managed to mumble, humming quietly as the god leaned down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

"Do not thank me for giving you the pleasure you more than deserve," he murmured against your lips, fingers tracing your jaw delicately. "My adoration for you exceeds the words that this realm has to offer, I am grateful you trust me enough for me to attempt to fulfill it through such actions."

You weren't sure quite what to respond to such kind words; your heart felt as if it could melt, a similar feeling that encapsulated the rest of your body. As if he could sense this, and as if you didn't need to, Loki simply pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin, fingers tracing the path of your spine tranquilly.

You didn't need words for Loki to know you loved him endlessly, nor did you need to remain still on your own accord, your lover knew, and in knowing he fulfilled your every need completely, all in the sake of loving you.

‿ᖭི༏ᖫྀ‿‿‿‿‿ᖭི༏ᖫྀ‿‿‿‿‿ᖭི༏ᖫྀ‿‿‿‿‿ᖭི༏ᖫྀ‿‿‿‿ᖭི༏ᖫྀ‿‿

Loki tag list: @soulpiercing

//

Loki’s grumbling makes you stir from sleep that morning.

“You okay, baby?” You ask through sleep-ridden eyes, not awake enough to face him and too cozy to change positions in bed. His arms tighten around you.

“I never disrobe before a gunfight,” he hisses.

“What?”

“Get off me, you mewling quim, I’m already betrothed!”

Your initial confusion fades as you realize Loki’s sleep talking, you burst into a fit of giggles.

“You dare laugh? She’s the love of my life!” Loki sounds offended. Taking pity on him, you maneuver around to press soft kisses along his jaw. “Wake up, baby,” you murmur against his skin. His eyelashes flutter until sleepy blue eyes stare back at you.

“Mhh… My love? What are you doing?”

“We’re gonna get married?” 

“Pardon?”

“‘I’m already betrothed’, ‘She’s the love of my life’...” you quote him. Loki’s face flushes, recognizing the words from his dream. “You weren’t talking about another, were you?”

“Certainly not!” Loki’s eyes widen, he clears his throat. “Are you accusing me of being unfaithful in my dreams?” He raises a skeptical brow.

“Depends on what you did,” you say stone faced, exuding seriousness. 

“Some woman tried to seduce me!” Loki scowls. “Believe me, I did nothing, did not feel anything for–”

You start laughing at his defensive words. 

Loki’s face falls. “You play tricks. You’re playing with my heart,” he frowns.

“Awh, baby, want me to kiss it better?” 

“That would be adequate, yes,” Loki raises his chin pridefully–lowers it, his eyes glinting with softness and vulnerability, he chews on his bottom lip nervously. “Would you?”

“Would I what, Loki?”

“Take me to be your husband…?”

“Yes,” you smile widely.

Loki takes your hand, his thumb caressing over your ring finger, magic making a silver band appear. 

“My future wife,” he murmurs.

//

You were officially past due. Your belly hung heavy like overripe fruit on a branch, ready to snap at any moment. 

In the week leading up to your due date, you had tried everything to induce labor. A vast array of spicy foods. As much exercise as you could endure. A desperate prayer to any god who would hear you. None of it worked. Your prayers seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The Asgardian midwives you had trusted to care for you and guide you through your pregnancy assured you that you were perfectly healthy, that your daughter was safe in your womb, and that she would make her glorious appearance when fate decided it was time.

But that didn’t help the dull ache in your ribs that flared whenever your daughter squirmed inside you.

You had almost rolled your eyes during the midwives’ last visit, but Loki had placed a consoling hand atop yours. 

“I am not trying to silence you,” He reminded you gently after they’d left, brushing his thumbs tenderly over your cheeks. “I am simply trying to protect your peace. Now, please tell me all of your worries, that I may listen and alleviate them.”

You burst into tears against his chest.

Now nearly a week past due, Loki insisted on you resting as often as you could. He stood straight as an arrow at the kitchen counter, preparing dinner. You envied his perfect posture now more than ever.

You sat at the table, your swollen feet propped up on an ottoman. You rubbed the stretched expanse of your stomach absentmindedly. As you looked out the window into your garden, you realized how much you had neglected it over the past few weeks. Your flowers wilted lifelessly. Your vegetables had developed leathery, rotting patches at their bases. Weeds were beginning to creep up your trellises. 

It didn’t help that it had been an unusually dry Autumn. New Asgard hadn’t seen so much as a sun shower in days.

“We could really use a good storm.” You mumbled to yourself. 

“Did you say something, darling?” Loki turned to face you, concerned and doting.

Then, the thought struck you like lightning on a distant prairie. An old wives’ tale. 

Babies are often born in storms.

You looked up at your husband with a mixed expression of desperation, conviction, and hope. 

“Call your brother.” 

With the promise of a home cooked meal prepared by his dear brother, Thor made his way to your cottage in the hills. His hearty knock rattled the doorframe. 

“Come in!” You called urgently from the kitchen table. The door creaked open. Thor ducked as he crossed the threshold and smiled sympathetically at you. 

“Hello, sister.” He leaned down to wrap you in a brotherly embrace.

“Thank you for coming.” You draped your arms around his broad shoulders and gave his back a pat. When he pulled away, you motioned to the empty seat beside you. “Please, sit.” 

Loki placed a colorful, well-balanced plate in front of his brother. A seasoned salmon filet, mixed vegetables, and crispy potato wedges sprinkled with herbs. Adjusting to life without servants preparing meals had been a bit of a struggle, but you had taught him well. 

“Thank you, brother.” Thor grinned teasingly up at Loki. 

“You’re very welcome,” He answered curtly. “Though I advise you not to expect this treatment in the future. I am only doing this to ease my wife’s burdens.”

Thor chuckled in response and began to eat. “So,” He said in between chewing. “Why have you summoned me, sister?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off by a sharp kick, which caused you to gasp. Your daughter, startled awake by the voices around her, was seemingly expressing her frustration the only way she knew how. You winced and rubbed your stomach, trying to appease her.

Loki noticed. He always noticed. He reached down and pressed his palm to your side, a warm light emanating from his hand. A tingling sensation spread like carbonated bubbles through your torso. You exhaled slowly as the pain dissolved. Your daughter stretched, then settled. Like balm to a wound.

“Thank you.” You whispered and gave his arm a grateful squeeze. You steeled yourself and returned your attention to your brother-in-law, who had nearly cleared his plate at this point. 

“Could you please summon a storm for me?”

“Of course, but…”—He paused to swallow a bite—“Whatever for?”

“It’s an old wives’ tale,” You began. “Some people believe that the drop in barometric pressure during a storm… can… induce…” You gestured vaguely, hoping Thor would catch on. Unfortunately, he only stared at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Induce… what?”

Your face fell. 

“Labor, brother.” Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. 

“Ah!” Thor broke into a wide, delighted smile as understanding dawned. “You wish to evict the child!”

“Something like that, yes,” You laughed, despite yourself. “I don’t need a hurricane. Just a few hours of rain and thunder. Worst case scenario, the baby resists and my hydrangeas get the water they desperately need.” 

Thor laughed, his booming voice shooting up to the weathered ceiling beams. Your daughter jumped inside you.

“The child will be in your arms by this time tomorrow. You have my word.” He vowed, his eyes sparkling with determination. 

“I’ll hold you to it.” You gave him a watery, cautiously optimistic smile—but optimistic nonetheless. 

Shortly after Thor left, the storm began. It started with a light patter of rain against the roof and windows, which quickly turned into a downpour. Eventually, the thunder began its slow descent over the hills, echoing through the peaks and valleys. 

“I should warn you,” Loki drawled as you both climbed into bed. “If this plan of yours works, my brother may request to have the child named after him.”

“If it works, I just might grant that request.” You huffed as he pulled the quilted blanket over your shoulders.

He chucked and leaned in for a kiss, which you happily returned. 

“This may be our last night as a duo.” He said softly, running his fingertips along your arm. Your eyelids began to droop with bone-deep exhaustion. 

“Here’s to hoping.” You murmured, your vision dimming like a flickering candle.

He pulled you close, the swell of your bump pressed carefully against his midsection, as rain poured down the window in a rippling current.

In the deep hours of the night, you jolted awake to a rolling sensation that crested at the highest point of your belly and tightened in your pelvis. 

You reached over and shook Loki awake. He was instantly alert, his hand flying to your stomach, protective magic sparking from his fingertips.

“It worked. It’s starting.” You whispered breathlessly in the dark. 

"Such a beautiful thing when you beg," he purred against your skin, voice a rumble of velvet smoke that sent shivers down your spine. His tongue traced a slow, possessive line up your throat before his lips brushed your ear. "But tonight, I don't want your words. I want your surrender."

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, eyes dark with hunger and intent. "I want to break you open completely," he said, and his tone held reverence, not cruelty. "I want to take you apart piece by piece until you're trembling and raw and mine in every way."

His hips pressed forward in a slow, grinding roll that made your breath stutter. "I want all of it. Every gasp, every cry, every broken edge of you- offered to me like worship."

His lips ghosted over your pulse point, voice lowering further. "And when there’s nothing left but the pieces you give me, I’ll hold them. I’ll rebuild you."

The weight of his promise settled over you like silk and iron, both terrifying and comforting. You trembled under him, knowing you were about to be undone.

Your breath caught. Your lips parted to respond, but you simply nodded, trembling with anticipation. Eyes wide and glassy with arousal, your heart pounded in your chest like a war drum. He kissed your forehead, a fleeting, tender press that contrasted the feral hunger burning in his eyes. Fingers hooked in the band of your underwear, dragging them down with rough impatience, letting the cool air lick across flushed skin already tingling with need.

The first thrust had you gasping, back arching violently as the air punched out of your lungs. The second drove a helpless cry from your throat, a sound that echoed around the room like a prayer and a plea all at once. The third, deep and unrelenting. It knocked the breath clean from your lungs and left you reeling, vision blurring at the edges.

He was relentless.

The rhythm he set was brutal, merciless, each movement powered by something primal and possessive. His hips crashed into yours with bone-rattling force, again and again, as though he was trying to carve himself into your very being. Each thrust jolted through you like a lightning strike, turning your spine to fire. His hands clamped down on your waist, bruising, possessive, dragging you down into every punishing stroke until your body was trembling under the pressure.

You were folded beneath him, legs forced wide, your body moulded to the shape of his demands. His chest heaved with exertion above you, sweat slicked between your bodies, his hair falling wild around his face like a dark halo. Magic crackled along your skin, electricity buzzing under your flesh in rhythm with his thrusts, burning, thrilling, overwhelming.

The sounds between you were obscene. Wet. Sharp. Rhythmic and raw. Every gasp, every cry, every desperate plea was swallowed by the heavy air. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard knocking softly with each violent push.

He growled something in a language older than time, the syllables guttural and fierce, his voice ragged and deep with possession. “Mine,” he snarled, each syllable like iron dragged across silk. “This- all of you- mine to take. Mine to ruin. Mine to rebuild.”

You tried to keep up, to stay grounded, to stay present, but each thrust shoved you further from yourself. You were unraveling, each brutal snap of his hips shoving you further out of your body. Your hands strained uselessly against the binds, muscles aching from tension, your voice caught between moans, gasps, and the broken sound of surrender. Every inch of you was overstimulated, nerves screaming, your core tightening to a painful point.

His grip on your hips was bruising, holding you still while he fucked you through your own shattering limits. Your eyes fluttered, rolling back as your legs kicked weakly, searching for a foothold, a tether, anything. But there was only him. Only this.

It was too much. Too deep. Too fast. Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, pleasure and panic tangling together like wires in your chest. The edges of sensation blurred into something razor-sharp, something almost frightening. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but the sound of him claiming you. Your mind screamed for him, pleaded for him, but your voice faltered, lost beneath the rising tide of sensation.

You whimpered, a broken noise, tried again, louder this time, voice shaking, tears catching in your throat as your body trembled beneath him.

You had to say it. You needed to.

"Moonlight."

Everything stopped.

Loki froze instantly - not a moment of hesitation. The second the word left your lips, everything shifted. His eyes flew to your face, and panic surged beneath the thick layer of lust that had clouded them just moments before. One hand flew to your cheek, cupping it with trembling fingers, while the other steadied you by the waist. The magical restraints blinked out of existence with a faint shimmer, and your arms fell free, immediately cradled against your chest.

He leaned back, just enough to give you breathing room, his chest rising and falling too fast, like he’d just realized how far gone he’d been. His expression flickered, fury at himself, guilt, a gut-wrenching vulnerability that few ever got to see. The hunger in his features drained away, leaving only the echo of it clinging to the edges of a horror he could barely voice.

"Darling? Are you alright? Did I- did I hurt you?"

His voice was tight, like it caught in his throat on the way out. It wasn't Loki the god speaking. It was Loki the man, the one who held every shard of your safety like a sacred oath.

You nodded quickly, breath still coming in uneven bursts. Tears had welled at the corners of your eyes, not from pain but from sheer overwhelm. You reached for him instinctively, brushing your fingers against his forearm.

"I'm okay," you whispered hoarsely. "I just... I needed to say it before it was too much."

Without another word, he moved. Not rushed, but deliberate. He gathered you into his arms, pulling you against his chest with a gentleness that belied his strength. One arm wrapped tightly around your middle while the other smoothed over your spine, up and down in long, steady strokes meant to ground and soothe.

His lips brushed the crown of your head. "I'm sorry," he murmured, voice raw and cracking. "I should have seen the signs. I pushed too hard. I lost track of you."

You shook your head against his chest. "You stopped," you said, barely above a whisper. "That’s what matters. That’s why we have it. I trusted you to stop, and you did."

He pulled you even closer, chin resting atop your head, breath warm in your hair. His grip tightened—not out of desperation, but to reinforce his promise. The hunger from before had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming protectiveness that radiated from him like magic.

"You were perfect," he said, voice low and reverent. "So perfect. I lost myself, but you- you brought me back. With just one word. Gods, what would I do without that word... without you?"

The bath was already drawn when he carried you in his arms, one under your knees, the other wrapped securely around your back. This time, there was no magic, no teleportation. Just him. Steady and real. His footsteps were slow, careful, as though he feared jostling you might undo the fragile calm you were regaining.

"I'll take care of you," he murmured, his lips pressing softly to the top of your head, voice laced with devotion. "Let me make it right."

The water steamed gently, infused with lavender, chamomile, and something faintly citrus- your favorite blend. A calming combination, glowing faintly from the magic he’d imbued, but subtle, like a spell cast with love instead of power. The room was lit only by candlelight and the faint shimmer of rune-glow from the edges of the tub.

He stepped into the tub behind you, careful and composed, and lowered you carefully between his legs as though you were something fragile, newly made. You sank into him, your back against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, a deep exhale shuddering from your lungs. His arms folded around you briefly before one hand reached for the soap and the other cradled your jaw, guiding you gently.

His fingers moved with care, massaging your scalp, working shampoo through your hair with the gentleness of someone handling something sacred. His nails scraped lightly, grounding, and he murmured soft encouragements into your ear as he worked. He tilted your head back slightly, thumbs brushing behind your ears as warm water sluiced through your hair, rinsing away sweat and magic and remnants of strain. You could feel his breath near your temple, steady, grounding, and real in a way nothing else had felt all evening.

Even the steam seemed to wrap around the two of you like a blanket, like the bath itself had become a sanctuary he built for you to recover in. Every movement from him was reverent, quiet, but intended, as though he was worshiping, not washing.

“You did so well,” he murmured, his lips grazing your hairline as he spoke. “You let yourself go, you let me in. I saw all of you and you were beautiful.”

You let out a quiet sigh, eyes fluttering shut under the rhythm of his fingers.

“I’m so proud of you,” he continued, his voice softer than silk, wrapping around you like a second skin. “Not just for tonight. For trusting me. For knowing when to speak. For saying the word. That takes more strength than most people ever have.”

His fingers slowed, fingertips combing gently through your strands, letting the silence cradle the moment.

“You’re safe, love,” he whispered, placing a kiss just behind your ear. “Here, with me. Always. Nothing touches you without going through me first. Not pain. Not fear. Nothing.”

A soft shudder ran through you, but this time from comfort. Letting his hands and words soak into your bones.

He washed away sweat and tears, his touch never lingering too long, never crossing a boundary. Just enough to make you feel seen. Cherished.

When he gently washed between your thighs, he paused. His eyes searched your face.

"Better?"

"Yeah. That feels nice." You nodded, voice soft.

"Tell me if anything doesn’t," he said, so seriously you felt tears sting your eyes again.

After the bath, he helped you into one of his undershirts - impossibly soft, smelling like cedar and musk. He sat cross-legged behind you on the bed, towel draped over your shoulders, comb in hand.

He ran it gently through your hair, untangling every knot with infinite patience. You let out a small sigh as the tension left your body.

"Do you want a braid?"

"Yes, please."

He smiled, twisting strands between his fingers with a grace that spoke of years of practice. "Frigga used to braid mine, you know," he murmured, voice dipping into something softer, nostalgic. "She said it helped me focus. That sometimes, when the mind turns cruel and loud, the hands can soothe what the thoughts cannot."

He glanced down at the braid forming in his fingers, brushing a lock over your shoulder. "I didn’t believe her at first. Thought it was just something mothers said to keep restless sons calm. But later... I understood. There’s a kind of magic in the repetition, the care, the quiet of it."

His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "It became something I did when I needed to feel like myself again. When the chaos inside grew too loud."

The strands of your hair slipped through his fingers as he continued braiding, the rhythmic motion steady and grounding, not just for you but for him too.

You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm of his hands lull you into peace. Each tug of the braid soothed something inside you, and by the time he secured the end with a small band conjured from thin air, your muscles had gone soft and heavy. You leaned back against his chest for a moment, soaking in the warmth of his body and the feel of his arms wrapping around you.

When he finished, you turned in his lap, shifting to straddle him lazily, arms winding around his neck. He held you immediately, strong arms locking around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest as though he couldn’t bear a single inch between you.

His chin dipped to your shoulder, breath warming your skin. “You brought me back,” he murmured, voice thick. “The moment you said the word... it cut through everything. The haze, the hunger, I was gone, and then there you were.” His fingers splayed across your back, anchoring you. “I never want to be the reason you're afraid. Not even for a moment.”

Your fingertips stroked through the hair at the nape of his neck as you nuzzled into his collarbone. “You aren’t,” you whispered. “You're the reason I can say it. Because I know you'll always listen. Always catch me.”

He exhaled shakily, his body shuddering just once, then stilling. He kissed your shoulder, then your temple, then the crown of your head, slowly and reverently. “I’ll never let anything hurt you,” he said. “Not even me. Especially not me.”

You stayed wrapped together like that for a long time, swaying slightly as he rocked you without realizing it. Your heartbeats matched, slow and deep, and the world outside your quiet little cocoon ceased to matter. The candlelight flickered low, shadows stretching softly across the floor, and beyond the window, the stars blinked awake one by one, like they were watching over you.