41 posts
Isn't Bite Also Touch?
Isn't bite also touch?
Chapter four, check chapter 5!
(Loki x Female demon!reader)
Summary of the chapter: You try to observe how the humans act and then proceed to annoy Loki even more. As always.
Loki was at a loss, now enduring the pain that is dealing with his unforgiving thoughts. Lost inside his own mind he questioned what he could do to get away from the superheros, including the demon that got ahold of him and was settled on clinging on to him for life.
He couldn't yet figure why he was so angry, he didn't know if it was the simple interaction you had with his brother that left him feeling this way. His golden brother was so charismatic he could manage to get anything from him, he always did. It would only be a matter of time for you to switch sides and notice how Loki truly was— meant to be alone.
Seeing the way you behaved with the group made him realize you were difficult in the matter of interacting with them, however, that didn't mean it would be impossible for you to adapt. If Fury gets what he wants you'll be nothing but another pawn for Earth's delight, not that Loki minded (that's what he told himself), but he also knew that it was all just a matter of time. In the back of his mind, he knew the lingering feeling of loss he felt was strongly attached to the thought of you becoming another one of them . Because he despised them, that's surely the only reason.
You wouldn't want to be with him for too long, no one did. The Avengers will make you realize that sooner or later, then you'll see how much of an outcast Loki truly is, how he doesn't fit in with any of them nor ever really did anywhere else.
He told himself he wasn't bothered, he just had to keep his distance.
And then you touched his arm bringing his attention to you, “What are you doing here?” He asked, startled. “You were still in the meeting room a few seconds ago.” He briefly looked at the hallway he recently got out of.
You just smirked at the remark and gave him a look as if he doesn't remember a key detail, leaning your body close to him. He rolled his eyes.
“Why are you following me?”
“You just walked away, I was concerned.” You shrugged.
“Concerned? You?” His eyebrow raised at the imposition.
“Why yes, am I not allowed to be?” You kept your mischievous gaze on him.
“Doesn't seem very honest to me.” He shared the same mischief in the eyes, the one he always has most of the time.
“I wonder why,” You pretend to be curious. “You know I won't leave.”
He stopped the staring and looked around the futuristic-themed main room. Huffing at the sight as if to underestimate the midgardian's choice in… probably everything. Or this demon is really messing with his abilities to keep his patience. His shoulders drop before he speaks up again.
“You won't leave?” He inquired, “You can leave, anytime, you know that. I bet they wouldn't keep you here, they aren't going after you.” He says softly.
“I know. I just don't want to.” You quietly made your way to sit on the puffy seat next to a window. “We could still run away.” You brought up.
“And where would we go? We'd be found in no time. And the cycle would repeat, you heard what they said.”
“I know, but I could try another spell…”
“They seem prepared to deal with your underworld magic, I don't see us getting any success from this.” He wanted you to get over this and stop trying to prove your worth, moreover he soon kept walking to a room that's supposed to be his for now.
“Is this where we're going to stay?” You arrived far too quickly in the room after him.
“You have to stop teleporting when it's unnecessary.” He jumps when hears your voice but recomposes himself quickly, putting his hands on your arm as you're really close to him. You clearly didn't mind personal space.
“I didn't, I walked,” You lift your pinky finger midair. “I promise.” And gave him an innocent smile, this time he didn't sense any lies.
He just closed his eyes and massaged his temple, turning to his room and just now realizing what you said. “No, no. You have your own room.” He crossed his arms. You could notice the muscles defining his body as he completed the movements. You should probably stop looking when that happens, you gulp looking guilty and look elsewhere.
“No one told me anything about me having my own room.” You whined, “If that were true they would warn me.”
“Then you should go,” He turned your body around and softly pressed his palms on your back as if to induce you to walk away, gesturing the way out, “and solve this issue with them.” Referring to the people that would likely be at the main room by now.
You frowned at him, turning yourself back in a quick motion. For a few seconds you thought if you should say anything as your mind went through your options.
“What?” He asked after your uncharacteristic silent response.
“Nothing… doesn't matter.” You muttered as you decided on a quick plan. “I-I'm…going to talk to them.”
'Nothing suspicious about that…' Loki was left to think, he only shook his head one more time and decided to leave it behind.
As you left Loki all alone, he took the time to breathe out in relief, locking the door afterwards. He was aware it was useless when it comes to you, nonetheless, one could never be too cautious, he enjoyed his single privacy for while it lasted.
It didn't take too long, when the moon came along so did you, tiptoeing your way into his room, not-so-elegantly.
“The Avengers said–” You almost stumbled as you stepped in.
“You should knock.” He exclaimed motioning to the door by your side, trying to persist in his harsh posture even after your clumsy display. You just shook your head and made a dismissive movement with your hands.
“The Avengers are convoquing us to…dine. In a friendly manner.” You finished announcing with a smile. “You and me. With them.” You gesticulated your finger back and forth to where he was, and where you were.
The god closed his golden-speckled leather covered book with a hard breath that you couldn't even hide the amusement it gave you. Your lips fought not to curve up more than it would be politely acceptable in response to his frustration.
“You good?” You asked, blinking at him.
“I wanted to stay alone for a second and you're here despite the lack of invitation.” He accuses.
“Well, yes…about that…” You lifted your finger up. “There just happens to…not be any other room left for me, they weren't planning on adding another treasure to their box, you know.” Loki's eyebrows went up with the implication that you could possibly be a treasure, you just kept your glee very well known. He also knew you were lying.
“What does that mean?” He asked, fearing the answer you'd come up with already.
“They said I could stay around! The room's big enough for two.” You sounded very cheerful, he gave you a curious look, but said nothing. You were prying into the room all ready to present your ideas to future changes, and what you're going to add.
“My stuff is not moving anywhere, if you want to move in make sure to stay very far from whatever is mine.” He said sternly and you turned around with the same intensity as his in your eyes, it wasn't often when you looked seriously annoyed. But you rapidly changed your expression, softening your eyes once again.
“Sure, I'll try and remember that.” Loki just knew something about your reaction felt out of place to him, he tried to keep in mind that being from Hell makes you look weird nevertheless, but there was something about it that was still incredibly off-putting even for him. “They will probably hunt us down if we delay any longer. Shall we go?”
You didn't know what to expect out of dining with superheros, honestly the experience made you feel like an outsider. You kept fumbling with the cutlery blissfully unaware of the clear expression of boredom you were wearing. However you held the consciousness of how uncomfortable you made the people around you, their stares would be descriptive as suffocating to human eyes.
But you were used to the uneasiness, you just never had to spend so long bearing it. To you, Loki's stare from the other side of the table was the one that burned the most.
Your plate was filled by the deliciously-scented and recently cooked chicken breast, unconsciously giving you a reminder of the food Loki prepared for you, making the tip of your lips unintentionally curve up without your permission. You wondered if you'd scare them away by saying you prefer it dead , you wondered which sentences would be the limits for their fears.
“You're quite unlucky I'll say.” Clint began, starting serious and then coming closer to mention his next words. “You arrived just the night it's Steve's turn to cook.” He finished with his lips deep in a proud smile.
Thor's hand touched Clint's back as support as he laughed. “Imagine having this bad of a first impression! Oh poor you.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes. “If I had to experience Captain America's food as my first midgardian meal, I'd perish on the spot, death would be a preferable option than coming back!”
“You wouldn't want to defend the humans with this thing!” Hawkeye burst the words out with mirth as his eyes began to tear up. You looked at both of them, feeling very entertained, you always stayed in quite awe watching humans cry out of joy.
“Ok, ok, I see.” Steve took it lightly, coming out of the kitchen and giving a kind smile to the group. “You're already tainting my image in front of this… being.” You could see he was trying to be nice.
“Rogers is one of the only ones here who believes in God.” Bruce explained quietly to you, hesitant.
“Really?” You answered amusedly, looking back at the mighty and heroic American symbol.
“Yeah. He doesn't fully accept the Gods from space here either.” Pointing to both Thor and Loki. “Says there's only one God.”
“That's because they're more aliens than gods.” Again, Steve explained, ready to put some more chicken from the frying pan to Nat's plate. “I didn't think I'd need to explain, to be honest. It's pretty obvious. Just look at them.”
“I'm surprised Loki didn't correct him yet.” You joke around.
Loki who had his posture rigidly strict against the chair as he was giving you a death glare, now rolled his eyes at your statement. “I don't need to correct him, he's Steve Rogers, everything, from his heroism to his morals are imprecise. But midgardians think he's an example for his undying sense of justice and serum applied to his veins that make him look like an angel compared to their frail lives.”
“You're one to talk, calling out others for being morally questionable.” You expressed. Loki opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.
“I see we're starting dinner well.” Stark bumped in, “I enter the room and I see someone putting the Captain in place.”
“Look, Tony…” Steve begins and doesn't finish, instead just turns around with the pan holding the chicken. It made him look like a babysitter or a housekeeper of this team of adults, you could see he was trying his best to be understanding and take everything as a joke. You put your elbows to the table and cross your fingers to rest your head on top, so you can observe them. "Let's just not. Not now.”
Whilst Tony made his way to sit and prepare his part, everybody began talking about something with one another, changing the topics. Some were forcing themselves to remain casual in their speech and act as if you're not there. Thor tried to make his brother speak more but Loki just seemed lost, and, by all means, a bit tired.
You could sense he himself seemed impressed by his own lack of energy, although he didn't want to show any sign of weakness, you could see it. Your head tilted to the side as you tried to read him with clarity, until the moment Thor tried to bring up their reason to be on Earth.
“If it happened to you, father would have made an excuse to keep you on Asgard.” Loki snarked his words in a fit.
“I have been banished before, as you remember. And you were on Asgard, you had the throne.” Thor accuses and tries to remain cool about such touchy subjects for both of them.
“The throne?” He chuckled humorlessly. “Don't even mention those times.” He looked pained to remember, “You don't know what I had to do. In my turn, he just keeps me here locked up on this planet.”
“At least he still kept your power. His punishment could be way worse.” The other god seemed sensible in his arguments.
“He didn't even want to see me to make his decision!”
“He doesn't need to–” Thor tried to speak.
“Hey–” Natasha cut your gaze, bringing your attention to her while they're both still discussing. “Come with me.”
She brought you to the kitchen that was only occupied by Steve and his venture at cooking. “Thought you needed an out.” She said, giving you a small smile. Steve tried to ignore you two and focused on his task.
You could sense they all tried their best not to be too…offensive, with their words.
You just looked at her, you could see she was tormented by grievous memories, and yet somehow she seemed the lightest in welcoming you, incredibly genuine in trying not to be judgemental, you gave her a quizzing look.
“I was asked,” she said looking at Steve, smiling, and then back at you, “to make some smoothies. Thought you might wanna help, if you want.” She offered. “If Fury wants you here, I want to be sure not to stick to your bad side.” She said but seemed unafraid. Then, wandered off to say again. “And…I know what it's like, I just didn't want anyone to feel left out. This team, as chaotic as it is, is still pretty special to me.” She finished giving you a smile that could surpass a lot of…humane feelings unable to be described.
“Will you help?” She pointed to the berries casually, as if you're already part of her considered family.
You looked at the strawberries sitting on the cupboard, they looked unwashed and recently harvested. “Sure…” You affirmed diffidently. Moving to grab some strawberries with your hands, tainting them with their red juice, the texture being new to you. It's not as if you ever had to deal with such a mundane task.
“Perfect! Clean them and put them in this bowl right here.” She placed the bowl near your arm, so you began your small work with a certain detachment. “The ones that are too weak,— you'll notice when you give them a tiny squeeze or when they don't seem red enough— it means that they're rotted. In that case,” She finishes, “you throw them away.”
You blink at her. And then blink to look at the strawberries on your hands. You begin to do as she says whilst keeping an ear to Thor and Loki's conversation in the area just next the kitchen.
The seconds barely pass when you see a vivid green flash coming from this area, and you hear Thor's grunt and small bluish flash following.
The ones that are too weak, they're rotted. Your muscles shake to squeeze the tiny berry. In that case, you throw them away.
The only place you actually felt moderately calm was when you're not around them, and that finally happened when you settled on Loki's sofa before his arrival. Summoning a dark blanket out of thin air to keep you company for the chilliness of his room.
Loki came in afterwards, not at all surprised to see you're already there. His mood was worse than possible, he actually seemed more agitated after speaking about his father, or maybe it was the fact he had a fight with his brother. Or maybe, all the situations happening today, that in itself is pretty draining.
You noticed he had some bruises and a paleness that you assumed appeared to be a cause of electric shock.
He just tossed his shirt off his body and let it fall somewhere in the room, your eyes round at his offhand act, then you bite your lips shamefully, looking away as he does so. Loki tries to hide his glee, stifling his smile at all costs and looking at you seriously once again. You were beginning to get used to his expression of demand.
“Behave.” He pointed at you.
“You're the God of Mischief, and you want me to behave?” You asked excitedly about the prospect, wishing to misbehave.
“I'll take a shower and I expect you to be on your best behavior around my chambers. That is all.” You reckoned he meant the room with the term 'chambers', you had to be mindful of where he came from.
“A shower?” You lifted an eyebrow, almost making him snort with the unexpectedness of your next words. “May I watch?”
“Tempting, if I didn't know you, I might've even accepted. Your body would probably make up for all your peskiness.” He let his eyes wander to your figure lying on the sofa, trying to snitch further the blanket covering you still looking playful.
You gasped, forging shock and bringing the blankets higher to reach your neck. “You were a gentleman before, at the tunnel…”
“And you can make a bed appear out of nowhere if you want to, no need for deceit.”
“I much prefer to comment on your chivalry.” You sing, “For someone that gave me a blanket when I was cold to suddenly leave me to hurt my delicate muscles on this hard couch.” You dramatically hit the skeleton of the sofa to prove your point, Loki lightheartedly shakes his head at that. “So painful, who would even keep this weapon in the comfort of their place?”
“The sofa's not mine. That's a problem for you to deal with.” He turns his back and goes to shower, ignoring whatever you could say next.
When he goes to bed, you try to rest, and moreover, snicker to yourself at the moment the hard surface makes itself present once more as you lay. You wait a few minutes, closing your eyes and checking on what Loki's doing. And he's reading.
You shift tensely on your tiny space, unquiet. Loki thinks to himself “how long does it take for you to drop the act?” and keeps absorbing whatever the pages of his book has to give to him, blocking your huffs and —quite prominent —fake grunts of pain.
He notices you peek out of the blanket to look at him, then just slips the blanket further on the couch, and moves on your tiptoes to come closer to the bed.
You approach with a suave stance and saccharine charming smile, your hands putting down his book to make him pay attention to you. “Let me sleep here.” Your tone is all soft-spoken and gentle as you give him your best puppy dog eyes.
He lets the book fall and hitches his breath unwillingly as he looks at you. You see his pupils dilating as he struggles to keep from shivering, your heartbeats beating loudly in comparison to the silence from his answer.
He felt so alive to you at the moment, your hands twitch to touch his chest and feel his rapid breathing beneath your fingertips, you hope your admiration isn't so perceptive. You wondered what you've done to make him so responsive.
This feeling dries your mouth so you lick your lips and bring your right hand up to cup his chin carefully. You could see he was in a fight with himself behind his eyes.
“Are you really a Succubus?” He quivers under your gaze and heaves to keep his hands stuck in place. You straddle his lap on the spur of the moment and he gapes in response, a grin plastered on your face so nefariously you wouldn't think twice before assuming that his words were factual.
“You feel so alive. I've barely even moved.” Your voice was raspy and your smile thrilling regarding the circumstances. The closer you got the more you could feel his blood beating fast-paced under his skin.
He grits his teeth at your statement, not sharing the same amusement as you, and uses his strength to push you off him. Thinking he caught you off guard but you keep your cheerful mood, his attempt at making whatever it is stop only making it all more interesting to you.
“You won't fool me, devil.” He spat with a fury he carried only towards you.
You trembled in your position due to his comment, his usually-luring voice was low and soaked with denial in the tone of each word, you were still graciously smiling up at him in delight, “Who knew the only thing I had to do is take the first step to share your bed?” You swiftly move to approach his thighs, easily now that he moved position, kneeling to him. “Is that all it takes? Have you desired me since the cabin?” Your eyes darken as you say.
He licks his lips, feeling the lust clouding his mind. “I… I could always make use of your warm body, seeing as your passion won't allow you to leave.” He smiles menancily, allowing his desire to take place. “Demoness, I was starting to think your beauty was a scam and all too useless. Seeing as you wouldn't put it to good use.” He leaned his body against the headboard as he looked down at you, breathing out air thinly through his gritted teeth. The sight of people kneeling for him would forever be his weakness. The power dynamic in the vulnerable performance makes him weak on his knees.
You make your way between his thighs and grip them firmly with your delicate hands, never taking your eyes off him on your allure, seduction certainly wasn't unfamiliar to you.
“Will you let me rest in your bed, with you? If I do you a favor?” You give him another sinful look and voice edges on pleading. “You know, I would be restless in the morning if I were to be kept awake, the pain down my spine as a result of that torturous couch, we wouldn't want that…” Your hot breath neared his clothed hardening erection, you let yourself enjoy the pleasure of having your face in such an intimate part of him. Nuzzling your face gently against his crotch, his rushing blood was deafening to your senses and you were drowning on it.
He grips your hair forcefully pulling you away and bringing your face up to his in one sturdy, although clumsy, move.
“Do I make you nervous, Loki?” You fluttered your eyelashes as you asked, now face-to-face.
You are smiling like the devil you are while he increases his rough hold on your hair strands, making a ruffling mess under his fingertips, giving you a threatening glare with such a dark gaze that your shivering makes you seem human.
“Cease the act.” His voice is demanding and powerful with his rich accent.
His jaw is clenched and his breathing unsteady as he locks eyes with you, you were persistent on your teasing and bucked forward his chest to get your body closer to him. Ignoring what he asked of you.
Proceeding to lick his lips as he continued to express his moodiness, catching him off guard, his eyes closing as the cold of your tongue made contact with his face.
His shock is clear and he gapes at you, for a moment you can see the blatant touch-starving man presenting all the vulnerability of finally having someone wishing to touch him. Of having someone touching him.
At first you think he's going to indulge in your touches and continue, but his sudden rage comes like lightning and now he has the full intention of hurting you.
His grip doesn't relent as he shoves you off him like falling off the spell of a wicked siren luring a jolly sailor to the sea.
His force actually takes you by surprise, he manages to grip your wrists with such strength it would undoubtedly leave marks even on someone like you, you could feel the skin scratching but he has no clue during his wrath. You struggled against his furious dragging, feeling like a monster getting repelled and caught in your deceitfulness.
He madly drags your body out of his room and pushes you on the floor of the main area. You fell with a hiss, looking up at him and deranged by the audacity, you felt the stinging pain on your scalp and the burn on your wrists.
“This is where you deserve to sleep.” He said as coldly as one could muster. You tried one last time to reason, even knowing you could reach his chambers in no time no matter how much he tries to keep you away.
“Loki…you can't possibly leave me here.” You smiled forcefully through your rage. “You should know I'm going to enter no matter what you say.” It's as if another mask is falling off as you speak.
“Oh no, little demoness.” He smiles, giving you the same amount of mock-up kindness. Kneeling to reach your height where you now sat. “Try that again and see where that'll lead you. You don't want to mess with me, trust me. I'm not in a good mood.” He warns.
“When are you ever in a good mood?” The cold contact with the floor was making itself very present by now. You were beginning to get impatient. “Let's stop this game, and I'll let you rest.”
“You never cease your games. You are a creature born in addiction.” He cups your face with both his hands and grins cruelly at you. “And I won't be tricked by the devil.” Pressing his nails further in your flesh as he's done and tosses your face aside, leaving you fuming by his disrespect.
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More Posts from Homesickn
YAAAAY I'm glad you liked it <3
The "Jesus. (Or maybe not Jesus)" cracked me up honestly hahahah it just fits the vibes so well
I've only ever watched some parts of Supernatural, never really stopped to watch it but I'm glad you think that, it's very honorable! I have some ideas planned for the angel, but he's about to bring some misfortunes 🤭
Isn't bite also touch?
Chapter six! (Chapter 5 here)
(Loki X Female demon!reader)
Summary of the chapter: It's the first Stark's party you two are going to, what's going to happen?
Warnings: fingering, oral sex, vomiting, handjob, and a lot of blasphemy, I assume. We have this a lot here.
Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101
Note: It shouldn't have taken so long, but this chapter contains almost 8k words, I hope it's not too exhausting but I wanted to keep it in one. I promise next ones are going to have less words, I hope you enjoy it, truly. I love every single interaction I receive. ♡
Now get ready, I'm already wearing my suit and tie 'cause we're having a party!!
A party. Of course, Stark planned a party.
It came unexpectedly when he announced it, but to his defense —he explained, “We work all the time, how could a little time-off hurt? Just a night of partying for us,” trying not to get into any discussions with the team, but everyone knew he'd do anything he wanted anyway.
“I need to have a reason now?” He huffed angrily, all the others gasping at his sentence. Steve mumbled something about 'rich people always making a huge party for nothing.' “Yes, ancient relic, it's become an addiction by this point.” He cleared his throat, “I can always claim it's for our two new additions.” He presents you and Loki to the conversation.
That's how it ended up where you are now, sitting on the main couch two days afterwards. With Nat trying to show you how to do a makeup look like hers.
“Okay, tilt your head up a bit.” You do as she says. She holds your chin and highlights your cheekbones. “You look beautiful with this, even more than usual.”
You're not sure what to respond, you just shrug messily, but feel your cheeks warm at the comment. You noticed her eyes stared intensely now in comparison to the first day, when she wouldn't even look at you.
You two were alone doing the makeup until two of the men decided to sit around and watch. The men being Clint and Thor.
“Can you do one on me too?” Thor asked, laughing a little but seeing truthful in his words. “I mean it, I think this art is really pretty. My people do this too, but it doesn't look like that.”
“And what does it look like?” Asked Clint.
“Well, firstly it kind of involves a bit more blood. The warriors —men, mainly— prefer to have their faces painted with blood, before, after or during a battle.” He took a sip of his alcoholic drink, you were interested in the story.
“Whose blood?” You wondered with a crooked smile.
“Of the ones who die first.” He laughs and finishes the rest of his drink in a large sip. “They are unlucky, but we consider their blood honorable. So their death is honored, and gives us more luck with their passing to Valhalla.”
“Brother,” Loki makes his entrance in the room, “you never cease your battle-talk.” He smirks, you noticed he's a bit more mirthful these past few days. You believe he's starting to notice this too, compared to how tired he was some days ago.
“I think battle-talks are entertaining.” You say and look at Thor, “They're the ones everyone wants to listen to.”
“Of course you'd think that.” You try to ignore Loki's eyes. “Anything with blood interests you, I wonder what else would–”
“Alright, you two are getting a little too close for me.” Clint said getting up quickly and going to the feast, far closer to where Tony was drowning in his beverages.
“I think Tony's enjoying it too much.” You say. “I don't see the appeal in losing your sense of control.” You were still looking at Tony, so you didn't see Loki's eyes sparkling with mischief and new ideas.
“You should try this.” He puts up a glass with something that looks a bit too much like beer to you.
“I've tried beer before and it's disgusting.” You put the glass away with your fingers.
“It's not beer.” He simply says, “I'll take it as you're too weak to taste it. Even the gods faint at the single taste of a powerful Asgardian mead.” He says too proudly.
You picked some interest at that, looking over your shoulder at the glass with a look of superiority.
“Come on, demoness!” Thor almost screamed with joy, “It's a moment of pride for our Asgardian heart. So we can see your reaction.” He gestured to both himself and Loki.
You rolled your eyes and grabbed the glass from the table, swallowing its content in a single second.
“See? Nothing, it's nothing to me.” You crossed your arms and gave them a tight-lipped smile.
“PASS ME SOME OF THAT!” Stark appeared suddenly with three other strangers around him. Looking all like a proper Queen Bee.
“It's definitely better if you don't even touch it, Stark, not in your state.” Thor hurries to hide the mead, “It's not made for human men.”
“Then it is exactly what I'm looking for today!” He smiles trying to reach for the bottle once more.
“Hi Thor!” Some girl waved at Thor, Loki rolled his eyes and focused on you again.
“Drink more.” Loki pointed to the full bottle at the side of the table, “I could use a few too, I'm so glad Thor could bring this from Asgard.”
“Normal alcohol does nothing to you, I'm guessing?”
“That you've guessed right.” He confirmed, already putting more mead on his glass. Lifting it up to present it to you with a lifting eyebrow, “A toast for us?”
You moved to accept and grab more for you.
The tower got full quicker than expected and to your surprise you failed to meet some of your known buddies. You met new nurses, some businessmen, some business-people in general, even celebrities (which might be an out-of-this-world-experience for humans).
You left a quiet gasp of surprise and quickly turned around when you felt a touch on your shoulder. The cold breath hitting your neck made you come to your senses quite quickly so you already had an idea who the person was.
“Loki,” You whisper, trying to keep your timbre low. “What are you doing?!” You exclaimed as discreetly as possible.
“What does it look like I'm doing?” You couldn't pinch the alcohol in his breath, you quickly wondered if this was an illusion he pulled on the spot or if he simply was used to the drink so he just didn't get drunk.
His hand moved from your shoulder to pass openly over your body's upper half. Discreetly going through your breasts to your stomach to finally reach your hips and grab them with passion. And pressed his body with precision against your back.
He couldn't stop touching your hips with his fingertips and pressing his distinguishable hard-on on the curve of your ass. Making you squeak as you tried to not bring attention to you, tried to pretend nothing was happening.
“Are you drunk?" You're facing him now, turning to bring your arms around his shoulders, silently wishing he would pick you up from the position. Maybe the closer you've gotten together these past few days made him get comfortable enough to do this. Either way, you couldn't say you minded.
“Hmmm,” He hummed, pressing his face on the crook of your neck, smelling the new human perfume that Nat insisted on putting on you.
“No,” he finally answered. “I'm not drunk, just a bit full, but nothing I can't handle.” He gives you a characteristic smirk, wanting nothing more than to take the offending clothes off your body and give in to his desires, make sure his primitive instincts get sated right there, in front of everyone. You bit your lips with the lights turning your vision.
He groaned in your ear as you squirmed in his embrace, —as if he heard your mind, he made sure to pull you up and even closer to him. Getting you all puzzled, but once again, not even complaining. You understand by the atmosphere the place has, and the attraction you give, this might even come as irresistible to him.
The loudness could make your heartbeat quake and the floor tremble beneath your feet and the very vulnerability the humans presented in the scene in front of you was something of a proper entertaining performance to your eyes.
But you couldn't help but feel addicted to it, you felt the rushing in your veins and your blood pulsing mistakenly mixing with the local music.
“What if we get out of here?” You tried to induce Loki. “Maybe you're giving in to this Devil's tricks after all.” You couldn't help but smile sweetingly.
“Oh dear, right now I couldn't care less. I've denied it for long enough.” You doubted his truth about being sober, as he maintened his harsh grip on you, marking your skin with his nails. “We could always just stay right here.” He smoothly moves your body up and down his clothed erection, licking his lips with a charming smile as you feel him throb through his pants.
He suddenly leaned forward to, desperately, start kissing you, for the first time. His hands explore as much as he possibly can as if you two have so little time, as if you'd run away anytime and he wouldn't get to memorize you. He's kissing you like he's been denying himself the temptation.
“Loki,” You moan against your will, putting your hands to his chest to get a break from him, trying to catch your breath, halting his tongue from greedily seeking yours.
Your hands look tiny in comparison to his bulky stature and it made your eyes wide at the sight, he seemed every bit as god-like as possible. “Loki…”
“Yes, my fierce demoness? Are you going to take my soul? Or do I need to give you what you need most?” His pupils were dilated at the sight of your breathless state, your lips plump from the kissing and shining with the mix of your saliva, dripping a little beside your chin, your eyes shining bright just for him, making his cock twitch. “If I give you my cock, will you become more amicable? I wonder…”
The possessiveness in his position, with your thighs spread apart for his body to accommodate between your legs, exactly where he should've been this whole time. Damned be the consequences, blame it on the party if needed, but his hands wouldn't stay away from you even if he tried.
“What is it that I need? You think I need you, now?” Fuck me. Fuck me. His talking was cruel as you felt your body burn.
His hand delicately moves lower to rest on your pelvis. His huge palm pressing it like it's his, like such a private part of you it's his property, caressing it and making you shiver as you restlessly snapped your head around the room.
You gulped a bit from the sight. “Loki? We should cast an illusion... I can cast it if you want.” You said.
“Do we need to?” He bit your earlobe, and almost desperately as possible, reached down to your lips again, wanting to stay close. Wanting to constantly touch you. “Imagine what a time we'd have,” He spread your thighs even wider, making you gasp as his hands were claiming, tightening around your skin. “If they could see you like this, a dangerous monster to their eyes. So fucked up and wet for a God...and one like me, the one they despise…”
His eyes sparked like offering a challenge, like you're in the company of a wolf ready to devour you.
“Right, darling? Do you think they'd get off on you too? I'm almost making a mess of my pants just from the sight of you, imagine what these mortals would do.” He moved your dress up to present more of you to him, and you shiver, unable to stop your sounds as you squirm in his grasp. “Shhh,” he whispers. “Shhh, my devilish little whore–”
His words make you groan with sudden distaste but he quiets you, putting you down and turning your body so your back is against him once more, and moving his other palm to your mouth. Silencing any protest that you'd make from his words, until you bite his skin. He lets go with a hiss.
“I'll murder you if you try to offend me,” Your eyes look murderous as you force your neck to glance at him, “I know it turns you on, but I'll kill you, Loki.” You press your nails down the skin of his arms, wanting to scratch him and make him hurt for his single comment.
“I've put a spell on us,” He says, groaning from a momentary friction the roll of his hips caused. “No one will catch us.” His voice was so tempting, you feared he was making you weak. You knew he was lying about the spell but it suddenly felt irresistible to comment anything against him.
His fingers slide down to brush the thin cloth of your already soaked panties, just from his brutish handling but delicate caresses. Loki starts kissing your jaw and his teeth scrapes over your neck, biting and licking it until he leaves a mark.
He brings your panties to the side and starts trailing his finger over your folds, taking his moment to massage your clit, eyes glinting with want and he looks down, frantically wishing he could just lower himself down right there and worship your quim like you're a goddess instead of a sinner. Your cunt clenched with each stroke and you couldn't hold the soft whine of the god's name as he went faster. “Loki.”
He took such a pleasure from listening to your voice as you say his name, he couldn't contain himself, his hips rutting on your behind, glued to your body, merging himself with the curve of your naked ass whilst he remained fully dressed, holding you in place, and leaving his mouth open as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Your voice… say my name…” He pleads and you grant him his wish, unable to control your own instincts.
His finger slides into your entrance whilst he keeps his thumb pleasuring your clit, giving your body a mind-numbing pressure, you couldn't even stop shaking, stuck in between his arms. Your jaw is clenched and your teeth gritted, trying to keep yourself from moaning too loudly and giving him satisfaction.
“Lose yourself to me, you can do it, I'm here for you,” he coos somewhat mockingly to you, feigning innocence in his tone, enticing you with his true purpose.
He makes you yelp when he curls his fingers inside you, you squirm and grip onto his arm and whine like a needy whore. “Your voice is ruining me, those pretty little sounds.” He sounded just as ruined, his voice so low and gravely and almost stuttering his words by being so drunk with pleasure.
He fervently rubs his thumb deeper against your desperate clit. “And you thought you could stick around with them, whoever these heroes think they are, they could never have you, they–” he pauses and groans out ferociously, gritting his teeth looking up, overwhelmed with this simple pleasure. “T–they could never have this. As long as you're my ruin, you're still mine, not Thor's, never anyone else's, you're mine now.”
You moan out, if all his anger makes you burn, now the pleasures all mix in one. Your vision was both the red from the party and red from his emotions, your mouth open, unstopping the cries of pleasure you felt as you desperately clenched your thighs together, making everything oh much tighter and pleasing for both of you, you both moaned together from the friction, but he still burst your thighs open right there just to continue his fingering.
“Ride my fingers, my angel,” he maliciously says, you shiver in his embrace. “Do it,” he groans into your ear, gritting his teeth and looking at the ceiling to keep himself contained.
Your half lidded eyes and parted lips, chest heaving with the impact he has against your back, thrusting his hips against yours matching his fingers inside you. “Fuck.” He curses, desperately clutching more of your skin. “Fuck it, I need more.”
You can barely blink before he completely manhandles your body, grasping your legs up and throwing you on top of a wooden table at a corner, you wonder how the humans didn't turn their heads on you from the noise. He keeps your dress up and growls like a beast when catching the sight of your fucked-up state.
He eagerly pulls off the material still covering your cunt, and his eyes focus on the spot between your legs, you swear you can see his mouth watering. He licks his lips and his pupils are purely blown out, hiding all the usual cerulean color they have.
Desperate, you feel your cunt squeeze around nothing, you worry you might make a mess of the table with your juices.
Your cunt feels so warm beneath his fingers as he cups it with his hands, his eyes are looking at it with such adoration. Practically clawing the rest of the dress out of your body, in a hurry, holding all the skin he can in the way, admiring the way your breasts jiggle as they were shown to him. A moment that could be mistaken as sacred if not so sinfully sacrilegious.
You couldn't stop it, it was making you feel full before even starting, the power you felt from him and the strength you felt were all so luxurious it made you close your thighs together, which made him sternly pull them apart once again.
“Tch, tch,” he reprimands you, having to keep his grip stern on you again. “Who knew you'd be such a ferocious little thing under my touch? Can't even stop moving,” He grits his teeth and brings his hand down to slap your ass with a strong impact. “Stop wiggling,” he says firmly.
“Damn it,” you curse, feeling the stinging pain. “What are you doing to me?" You even feel dizzy.
“Why do I have to be doing something? That's just how you feel, little demoness.” He licks the skin beneath your neck, going for open-mouthed kisses as he speaks against your pulse. “There's no running away, I have to have you.” You almost miss him undoing his belt with an animalistic force, throwing it aside with a clunk sound. “You're my godslut now, aren't you? You're doing anything for your God…look how far you've fallen.” He chuckles, gripping your waist.
His hands take their time grasping your breasts, moving his mouth to delicately start licking them with reverent precision, giving you very wide eyes as he looks up, silently seeking your affections.
You lose your breath as you look down at him, grabbing his dark hair and pulling him closer onto your chest, wanting to suffocate his face against the skin of your breasts, wanting to feel him inside of you, his cold tongue made everything feel divine.
His tongue moves to gently worship your other nipple as he carefully gives attention toying with the other. His giant hand cupping your breast, making it feel so full to him as he squeezes and hears your pleasured soft sighs and squeaks when he presses too much.
“Loki, Loki,” you call his name among the whimpers, he brings himself to his knees for you, sliding his hands around you as he kneels. Looking up while delaying around the area of your hips, his hair is all messed up from your pulling already, and he reverently locks his eyes with your pussy again, watching its softness so puffy from want, he can smell your arousal from how much you're dripping, it's enchanting him, he can't think of anything else but you, not even about his painfully throbbing cock begging for attention.
“I need to…” He tries to catch his breath as soon as possible, moving his hands smoothly down your thighs and silently looking up to you, asking for permission. “Please.” he almost squeaks out.
You didn't know why you couldn't just speak but you frantically nodded your head, desperately wishing to continue, giving him your consent as he desperately leaned in to drown himself into your pussy. You grab him by the hair, pulling him even closer as you bring your thighs together instinctively, wincing from the contact of his cold tongue in you but quickly moaning out to the air as you ride his welcoming tongue.
“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkk,” your voice draws the mewling, and he deliciously accepts the pressure you put to drive him further. Dragging his curls up to bring his mouth up and down on you, delighting himself on your lips and fucking the spot inside of you that made you quiver, drawing even more moans of you. “Fucking hell, w–what, I–” You breathe out a long trembling breath, and you're tempted to brag but it's as if he can sense your coming petulance and he blissfully let's out a wanton moan bringing multiple vibrations to your core, doing that on purpose.
When you let go of his hair to get a grip of yourself he pulls himself even deeper inside you, if that's possible. His nose bumps your clit as he eats you out like a starved man, he skillfully moves his lips around the bud and sucks hard.
You start riding his face, with sweat shining down your neck and on the curve of your breasts, looking down at him with blown eyes and a clear impatience for release.
You could feel his magic working unconsciously to him, surrounding and overwhelming you whilst he remained unaware of its use. You gracefully move his head —with a small fight because he doesn't want to let go of his newfound spot inside of you— for a second, and you see his entire face glistening with your arousal, he licks his soaked lips excitedly waiting for you to pull him in again.
Your head goes back in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm approaching, your senses being numbed as your only thought was him and his mouth, his face between your legs, his tongue, how red and desperate he seems, his cock standing up proudly so red and ready to burst, his hair messily among your fingertips, his fingers on your hips, his magic, his veiny hands, his body taking place between you, him, him, him.
When he realizes you're about to cum he brings his fingers in to join his pleasing tongue, curling them inside you and sucking your bundle of nerves as just as hard, just like he knew how to make your toes curl and you drown him with your cum as you moan out to the air.
You have to stick your fist into your mouth after some seconds to muffle your moaning, and Loki's hands are punishingly grabbing you in response, mixing the bare skin with your juices and guiding you through your orgasm with his tongue.
When he sees you calming down and your legs shaking a bit too hard, you softly bring his head back out of your cunt, and massage your fingers through the strands of his dark hair. The moment even seemed soft as he pressed his head on your pelvis and gave very heartfelt breaths to recompose himself, licking the juices he has all over his lips with such passion and awe, as if your taste was that of a sweet fruit he could never grow to despise, it made your heart step a beat.
He licked his fingers covered with the remains of your cum, moaning around them and making you shake your head to the sound, his moan made your cunt flutter in response. “You're ridiculous,” You breathe out, still trying to recover your normal breathing pattern.
You cry out as his palms hit your ass with a strong powerful strike. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, owww,” you hiss after a blasphemous complain. He puts his hand over the spot after to cover the red he was responsible for, giving you a not-so apologetic smile.
“Don't mock me,” He felt so surprisingly powerful, more than he has felt during all these days since he met you. The other days he could feel his energy diminishing and he could logically blame it on his lack of sleep, but now he had you and he felt himself burn with such energy. It was almost overwhelming. He felt like he could have you for hours on end.
You quickly lean towards him and bring your hand to hold his fully throbbing cock, the tip angrily reddish and begging for attention. And you grant it to him, you wrap your fist around it and start pumping his cock, merging his precum all over your palms and making you lose your breath all over again by how easily he could be throughly fucked.
He yelped as the constant movement made him lose himself, getting his body closer to yours and wrapping you into his arms, rutting into your hand and resting his forehead against yours as he moaned with a such low gravy voice, so close to losing it. Your body close to his in a mixture of sweat and sex, and he wanted nothing more than to put it in and feel the comfort of your warm cunt to wrap around him.
Your pumping and the tightness of your soft palm only working his fantasies further, his imagination of wanting to dive himself inside your cunt as your walls milk his cock so tightly. And now he cries out, whimpering your name and the word 'demon', 'demon'. You moan as if he's worshiping your summoning.
He's almost breaking your skin with his fingertips, applying so much pressure on your shoulders as he bites your neck to contain a loud groan from a fervid thrusting. And as his mouth leaves your neck, his eyes roll up to the ceiling and he gives a guttural groan followed by a long, almost quiet moan as his mouth opens up drowned in pleasure.
His thrusts in your hand begin wavering and getting unsteady as his knees buckle and his grip on you tightens, his moaning unstoppable as he releases pearly white semen onto your hands and near your pelvis and abdomen. He looks down with glazed eyes and grunts as he watches his cum marking your skin.
You collect the cum from your skin and put your very messily sticky fingers into your mouth, licking his semen off of you.
“I'm cleaning myself,” you explain as he couldn't stop watching, entranced, bewitched by your tongue surrounding his essence like it's your favorite taste, —and you couldn't deny he tasted delicious, but in your defense, you've never tasted the cum of a god, you weren't aware if it was just Loki.
Your words make him notice you again, he suddenly remembers the suddenness of all of this, what his sex-ridden brain made you two do, the awe he held in his expression for you before now replaced with an undescriptive look.
His cock twitched from the sound of you sucking your fingers clean. Recovering from his post-orgasm, he took deep breaths to recompose better and pressed his fingers against your flesh as some ground to fix himself upon, or maybe just a reminder that you're still here and he's not cursed.
He feels surprisingly light, like he doesn't have anything else to worry about at the moment. He thought by this point he'd have to worry about getting weaker after you received his sexual attention.
But no, he feels just as strong, more alive than he felt during all this time, especially more alive than he felt before the New York attack.
“Have you drugged me, sweet?” He asked, the suddenness of it making you give a light-hearted laugh. “Have you stolen my soul from me? Hm? Are you making me sick, little devil?” He asks moving his nose around your cheek so softly, leaning close to your neck to smell you.
“I'm not. I can feel it too.”
None of you say anything, he just keeps holding you. You can feel his arms slowly wrapping around your waist, and for the first time in so long you question what you're doing.
After a moment of silence, he dares to break it.
“Demoness…” he calls you. “If you wanted to, could you get drunk?” He's curious.
“Yes. Yes, of course I can.” You say, almost offended by his phrase.
“Would you?” He gives curls a strand of your hair with his finger, watching it as it whoops when he let it go. Snapping his head to meet your gaze, looking as unexpressive as can but keeping the contact. “Would you get drunk with me?”
The noise increased tenfold but also did the mindnumbing happiness you were feeling. Now you understand what the humans find so appealing, this feels like a biblically description of Heaven. That coming from the brain of a demon, it makes your skin crawl.
The humans were shaking from the songs and a guy named Rhodys came around presenting you one more round of recently found 'vodka', you smelled it but didn't think twice before drinking the content in one go. You seemed even more cheerful after the graciously spent-time with Loki. The humans cheering for you and applauding like they always do for anything stupid.
Gods, you almost felt human. Ugh. You were both repulsed and amused.
The dancing was what got you all happy and smiley, you just couldn't keep your smile hidden and your jaw was aching from the constant joy.
“What if we play two truths and a lie?”
“Oh, or even better, truth or dare!”
“Noooo, these are for children,” said a slurred voice through the crowd, you giggled at their drunken tone.
“Loki would suck at this,” the god heard you and gave your shoulder a small bite. Nothing to break the skin but still made you hiss. “Can you not? I swear you're addicted to this, biting.” You moved to throw your finger to his face, which he gladly took as a sign he could lick it.
“Isn't it already enough that I have a bunch of hickies to hide, thanks to you?” You say attempting to keep stern, and keeping your voice quiet, but he could see right through your façade.
“I want to see what the games would be...” He says, his words muffled by being said against your neck. “I'm curious to see how you'd charm the mortals' contest. That's all.” He said more clearly now.
You let your stern look slip and come back to a smile, avoiding his face now.
“I suggest a new drinking game!” Thor brings to the talk, “I want to see how you fail at lifting Mjolnir. If you manage to lift it up, I'll drink all the alcoholic drinks you all are drinking. If you lose, you drink a cup yourself.” He explains, Loki can't help but lay on the couch with an annoyed sigh.
“This pompous bastard will do anything just to be the center of attention. Wanting to spread his 'worthiness' that's made up by Odin's standards.” Loki says.
“I feel like Loki would enjoy the party way more if his brother wasn't here.” Said the nurse, Chloe, that was glued to Thor's side.
“You got it right.” Loki answered, you sat on the couch with him.
“Don't bring the party down.” You say, “That's not much to your spirits, is it?” you smile knowingly, “You usually are so sociable. Thor's just trying to bring some entertainment.” You take the time he's focused on you to rest your hand on his thigh, his thighs were spreaded apart on the couch.
“For him, yes.”
“But if he fails, then imagine what his face would look like.” You look like you're up to something, Loki snapped his head to look at you, for a moment you thought he truly just stopped and…looked at you.
He gives you a smile and quickly tries to hide it, you both share a look and agree to play. All the heroes go first whilst you and Loki just observe the scenes.
First Clint, then Tony, then Cap. Your eyes darken as you see the way it slightly moved, and Thor's face changed for a millisecond at that, but it did nothing else.
Loki pretended to be disinterested but you could feel his anxiety spiking through your body, almost infecting your own emotions.
You truly believed you were both weakening each other by staying together. You could make him feel stronger, you could stop some punishments, you were the reason he felt tired, but now, it feels like the humans are showing you something new.
It wasn't supposed to be this way, it makes your heart sink to your stomach, filling it with dread.
But who cares for now? You can just pretend as you watch them, and worry about such concerns at a later point, until you have to face them again. You turn to look at Loki and wonder if you're being too emotional, or if allowing yourself to drink was a mistake.
“Loki?” Thor calls his brother, offering the hammer. Loki moves in his seat, unquiet, only you knowing of his rushing nervous heartbeats.
“I'm not sure I wish to be part of it,” he gulped, ignoring everyone's eyes. You took his hand in yours, and he pulled it away in a rush.
“If there's anyone in this room you can be certain is unworthy, that person is Loki!” Clint boomed a laughter and made a whole bunch of people laugh with him.
Humiliation ran through the god's veins in such an uncomfortable amount you could feel it within yourself, or perhaps you're just too close to him by now. And you shouldn't be.
“I want to try next.” You say with a blank face, their laughs slowly dying out. The silence opens space to new sounds of quiet mockery.
“I'm actually a bit scared now,” said Thor, visibly shivering a little, “I know I've agreed on everyone playing but…demons? Feels like cheating! I'm aware you can cheat anytime.” He said, curiously looking around him seeking some agreement, and everyone was on his side. A poor trembling guy, that was clearly drenched in cold sweat, couldn't stop nodding his head at Thor's statement.
“We said we'd play, right?” You said, “Loki can go after me, as an obligation, or if I fail. Nothing to prove here, and I don't need to cheat.” As likable as you were, Thor had to admit you get scary frighteningly quickly.
“Ok, rules are rules!” He gives you two a tight-lipped smile, not looking very genuine, not only thinking about his uniqueness of being the only one able to lift Mjolnir but also of losing the bet he had made.
You stand up and get a hold of the hammer, not even needing much effort to lift it up in your hands. Honestly it even surprised yourself.
The room got quiet to cricket noises, only the loud music filling everyone's eardrums. Then suddenly a loud cheering could be heard so loud it could make anyone's ears bleed.
People were clapping, Tony was just still flabbergasted, trying to tell everyone he must have moved it a bit for you. Clint was telling them how it was indeed just a scam and a trick. Thor yelled “Cheater!” very loudly, pointing an accusing finger to you.
And Loki, Loki didn't know if he wanted to pull you into his arms and suffocate you or if his envy would consume him. It was such a mix of emotions you swore you could almost feel the tears coming to your very eyes.
His hands trembled as if he wanted to grab you by your legs and pull you into his arms and keep you there, but he also was lost in allowing you to have this moment, before his head would get filled with childhood sour traumas of not being good enough, not being worthy.
Other than this sour feeling, he was proud it was you. He would just never admit it.
Thor took a good time open-mouthed in shock and accusing before casually laughing in nervousness, trying to act casual again, saying things like “that probably didn't count”, as he said before, you're a demon, but “for the sake of keeping my word, I'll do the dare,” and asking as much people as possible how much they had to drink —the ones that could remember it, and the ones that could just guess.
Quick equation, and Tony made sure to bring as many glasses of various drinks as he could, even asking others to bring more. Thor wouldn't deny the challenge, but he felt the shame of losing.
Your grip on the hammer made you stop and analyze it for a second. It came from the heart of a dying star, it felt just as cold as one can imagine. Uru metal. You moved it from one hand to the other, the hammer seemed odd in your hands.
“What does it feel like?” Loki asks, and a human probably wouldn't have listened to his question, but you did.
“Quite cold.” You answer. He's silent for a moment.
“That's never what I thought it'd feel like.” He gives a cuffed fake-laugh. You look at him.
“I would offer something but…” Your words traveled as you lost yourself in your thoughts. “I like that you're not worthy to Odin's standards.” You shrug. Look around, everyone's focusing on Thor. You come back to focus on Loki.
You clear your throat and lean closer to his ears, one leg lifting up on the couch for support of your body. He allows himself to touch your thigh, with a certain passion for reminder of what you felt like, he held your dress with his fingers.
“I cheated.” You said, ever so, so quietly, he could wonder if you said the two words telepathically. His eyes sparkled in amusement looking up at you, even if it's against his will, he couldn't avoid it.
He brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and bring your face down until your faces were on the same level, his cold breath now smelled of the just-discovered mead. He touched his fingers on your lips and your eyes fell to look at his.
And he leaned to kiss you again, different from the first time, now it felt as calm as a wind. Just supposed to happen, like it's all right. You present yourself more so he can slip his tongue further, grabbing your arms now to bring you closer, he seemed to like that a lot.
And of course, with all the lack of privacy you can have in the tower. Clint interrupted with a fake cough.
“I can endure your stay here just no mingling in the couch we're sitting on” He gestures to the couch while he says so.
“We're not mingling,”
“You're making out!” Steve said, “I–It's not…shouldn't be allowed.”
“This is a party, come on, it's not like it's unexpected, I mean look at them,” Nat said and pointed to the two of you. You turn to face Loki again and give him a cat-like smile as you lift yourself off his lap, making him pout.
“Now my lap is cold.” Still pouting.
“Oh no, what a horror.” You jest, still smiling. One hand grabs Mjolnir again, throws it in the air, seeing what it's like. Then the other hand goes to grab a drink and swallow it down in one go.
You can feel the fuzziness but just assume it does nothing to your organism. Choosing to induce in your study and drink a lot more too, everyone was having a blast from ingesting too much alcohol, it surely wouldn't hurt.
Thor gives you a drink he was having, saying it's one that came almost too close to affecting him, or maybe he was already incredibly drunk. You accept it with a fun grin on your face. Loki doesn't comment on your drunk state, he's allowing himself some more mead himself, he trusts your nature of keeping control at all times.
Thor's hand suddenly touches your hips to move your way and Loki's eyes widen and he gasps, funnily to you, standing up and taking his brother's hands off of you. Which makes you smile just so much, his jealousy was amusing you.
“Not her, you're not allowed to touch her.” He says, still too calm for his attitudes, Thor puts his hands up in a sign of defeat.
“I wasn't trying to do anything.”
“Yeah, dude, that's too possessive,” Clint says, staring at you. “And I thought she was going to be the only possessive one.”
“Oh…dear,” You laugh and almost lose your feet, having to keep yourself up. “Dear entities of all Hells help me keep myself up, oooooh no, oh dear...” You lost your composure again, eyes falling shut a bit, watching everything through cluttered eyelashes.
Then you lift yourself up with energy effort, and bring the drink up too, obviously too drunk.
“And I dedicate this one to...” You lift the luminous drink in your hand, traveling your words off a bit, casually becoming the life of the party.
You could feel the stare of possibly three people, their blood rushing to a very noisy rhythm. One of them just mumbled a lot of prayers unstoppingly, clutching his crucifix for dear life. Your mind questioned how his hands didn't burn or mark themselves from grasping so tightly, or maybe it did, and he was okay with letting it bleed for his prayers if it meant they would be answered.
“I dedicate this one to Loki!” You lift the glass higher, trying to ignore the guy bothering you, you just felt something happening, you didn't know what.
Loki held your hand and brought his glass to yours, clinking it and everyone cheered together, then he refrained and happily went to talk with someone else.
“You're…” The guy says, too quiet for anyone to notice but you know he's talking to you, and the music is too loud it's muffling his words to the others. “You're not supposed to be here, creature of Satan.” He spits and points at you.
You give him a false look that resembles a kicked puppy, pouting your lips and then changing your expression to normal again. “Are you going to cry to your God?” You ask just as quiet, trying to keep it just to him. “I'm in the presence of two and I don't see you praying for them.”
“T–T–they're no–t…they're not re–real go–god–gods…” The poor trembling guy couldn't stop stuttering and sobbing from his silent weep, the time spent with enjoyable humans made you momentarily forget how pathetic the humans could truly be. But his prayers were hurting your ears.
“So you think God will save you?” You gloat.
“He always does. If not him, then he'll send his angels.”
It's almost comical how coincidence can be, at the same moment that you're about to complain there was Tony trying to keep the reporters outside and denying them further private information. You soon enough grasped it was about you, or more specifically, you and Loki. Of course.
Reporters, paparazzis, multiple media-related people craved to enter the party and seek a piece of what it is about you and Loki that needs to be talked about. You were unaware, during the entire party, of how much they've been accusing the heroes of supporting a murderer that claims to have the role of a 'god', a being that most of all is supposed to protect others. It's one being they pray to.
And even worse, how they were supporting a blasphemous entity, shaming the image of God. Them, the heroes they trust their lives with, opening their arms to a creature from the underworld and sharing it to the news with a party.
“Tony, how did you not think about this?!” Steve asked in a screaming tone, wanting to bring Tony's attention to him. Pulling his shoulders to face him. “You had to give a parade to our most problematic hosts.”
“You know, that's what I hate so much about you, you pretend to be Mister goody two-shoes and forget that you weren't on the good side either! You didn't even comment about this possibility before when not seeing it happening in front of your eyes.” Tony snapped, pointing at Steve. They had to find every situation to fight?
“Don't you two ever do something else?” You ask quite bored, thoughtlessly playing with the end of your dress.
“You shut up, it's mostly your fault.” He accuses, his tone nears a bite.
“Excuse me?” You cross your arms. Loki —surprisingly — puts himself in front of you.
“I bet you've gotten what you wanted, rockstar,” he says to Loki, “You probably got to fuck her, because now you can't even keep yourself away from her. Look at that.” He chuckles dryly. “Whatever you gain from this outcome, if it's more than getting your dick wet, if it's something harmful, it'll be something you deserve.”
“Quit it, Stark. You're making it worse.” Nat's being the voice of reason.
“My affairs should be of no matter to you, you should be dealing with something else,” Loki says, moving to look at the furious people outside the huge giant window. “You're the head of the public, the people love you, fix this.” He finishes, in a sarcastic tone, moving back to wrap his arms around you.
“Loki,” you call, or likely whispers out. His eyes flicker to you.
“We should enjoy it,” his eyes carried his glint of mischief through the chaos, “we should drink some more.” You were unsure of how many glasses he had broken just from drinking, Thor just the same.
“You're just going to ignore that?” Stark asks.
“It can be our problem tomorrow,” Explains Clint, closing his eyes as he sank down to the carpet.
“Oh he's definitely throwing up on the carpet.” Nat shook her head, “I might be too sober for this.”
Loki took you with him to grab some more drinks, and a blonde man—a blonde hair resembling white, pure moonlight hair, — came from the entrance.
You proceed to scramble a bit on your feet to hide behind Loki, the man looked around the room but you hid, as best your drunken body can.
“What's wrong?” Loki asks genuinely worried now, seeing as you're practically glued to his body.
“Not him.” You say groggily from all the alcohol, damn you inducing the humans and their temporary pleasures. “Not…ah,” Your blood pressure fails you, “is my human body weak? Fuck's sake.” You complain loudly to the air.
“Calm down. I'm here.” He keeps supporting your body, gently touching your scalp to keep you grounded. Giving you a forehead kiss, probably the fault of the alcohol on his system. “Tell me, tell me,” He begs softly.
“My…” You tremble and vomit on the living room's carpet. “Oh, oh, the bloodiest of all Hells. The Devil should just take my body now…. I'm dying of embarrassment.” You put your hand on your temple.
“Darling.” He whispers kindly, and as softly as he can muster to keep you safe. “The humans are way worse, it happens to them all the time. Calm down, please. I can help you,” He lifts your body up and tries to carry you away but you keep trying to get out of his hold. “I'll wash your face for you, I'll do it, I'll help.” He repeats.
The blonde man seeks the crowd, and appears in front of you unexpectedly, “Sister?” He asks.
“Sister?” Loki echoes, as if not believing the man's words. “Is he your brother?”
You could throw up again if your stomach wasn't so empty. You feared you'd only display the gagging sounds, the attempts.
“Two demons?” Someone randomly muttered among the humans. The praying guy smiles gratefully now, kissing his crucifix with bright tears covering his vision.
“Oh, no. I'm an angel.” He gives a bright white smile to the people, and you throw up once again, this time on Loki's shoes.
Me: trying to write a heart-wrenching, deep and emotional scene in a fanfic.
The character I’m writing about:
AAAAAAA I get so happy whenever I see you posted!! (I was @homesickasgardian but I changed to a new account, if you can tag me on this one I'd be incredibly happy!! 😊)
Gods, the initial jealousy at seeing him with her duplicate
"It's unnecessarily cruel, darling, [...] And besides, it would fulfill a fantasy to have the two of you."
""I am not pouting," he had muttered as he scooped her up in his arms gently" 🥹🥹
your Loki just gotta be one of my favorites in this entire website, seriously, I love your writing, I don't know if I've mentioned before but the way you portrait him just makes me love him even more.
"God he loves me so much." This just really got me, also when he refused because there's no replacement for the real you 🥹🥹 so freaking sweet, a wonderful chapter, I love this story so much!!
A God Can Hold His Liquor - Part 37: The Spell
Summary: Realising your family are missing you on Midgard, Loki enlists the help of your newfound immortal friend to conjure up a physical, breathing solution. As usual – what could possibly go wrong?
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader (reads like an OC)
Words: 1,500
Warnings / Contains: They do stuff on horseback. Strong language. Very bad Norwegian translations throughout.
A/N: To get into the vibe you can listen to these audios (I listened to them while writing): Cottage ambience. Horseback ambience. Aaaaaand I know it’s been a while. If you need a reminder of the previous chapter, The Oracle, read it here.
A/N II: Full credit to @lokisgoodgirl for her headcannon of Loki babbling in his native tongue in the throws of passion.
***
You lay with Loki in the cottage in post-coital bliss, your head leaning on his bare chest, a light sheen of sweat on your forehead.
“You’re taking it incredibly well my love.”
“What, your cock?”
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This is so incredibly beautiful 🥹🥹🥹💖
A Crown for a True King
Looking down into your lap, you admired the relaxed figure of the man whose head currently rested within it. He was lost within the confines of a small, leather-bound book, the shade from the over hanging oak tree you currently sat beneath giving enough cover so that he could read comfortably even in the bright early afternoon sun. You smiled to yourself at how at peace he looked; it was as if he was so far removed from reality that nothing bad could touch him and his soft features were so calm as his eyelids lazily blinked while he turned the pages of his book that it made your heart swell to the brim with affection for him.
Loki felt as if he was floating upon a cloud as his soul unburdened itself fully within the confines of your clothed thighs. The crickets and katydids chirped away all around you both, their music swelling with the intensifying rays of the sun only to settle back down as another velvety cloud passed itself overhead. The connected nature of the world captured in this moment made the dark-haired prince feel so very grounded in the moment, as if he could sense how his own body frequency fit into the intricate web of life that surrounded him.
This was bliss, pure and simple, like that slow exhale of breath after a laborious task has come to its completion. As the wind wafted through the long blades of grass, rustling the leaves high above his head and running its invisible fingers through his curled locks, he could not help but smile to himself at the tranquility of it all. How was it always this way with you? It felt as if your very company was enough to fill him with more love than he knew what to do with so that even when you two had these quiet moments together, where no words need be exchanged, they felt more intimate than any conversation ever could.
You noticed that upturning of the corners of his mouth and immediately it was reflected in your own face, as how could you not find joy in the happiness of a man who never thought he would have a piece of it. This man, who you had seen struggle through more burdens than one soul should ever have to experience in a million lifetimes let alone only one, deserved the world and all its little moments of joy and as long as you still drew breath you swore to give them to him.
As you continued to watch, those long eyelashes of his began to rest against his cheek for longer and longer periods of time and his book began to sag down towards the surface of his chest, a clear indication that he was drifting off into that quiet sleep that only comes when everything is at a complete calm. That is when the idea took hold of you.
Off to your right lay a patch of white yarrow, tumbling around like waves upon the sea with each slight pass of the cool breeze. It struck you as you looked between them and your lap how beautiful would Loki look within them, their brightness in contrast to his dark curls. You knew it would be perfection and so slowly you reached the mere inches over to grab as many as you could hold.
With subtle movements you went to work, twisting and tying them around each other in such a precise way and adding more as you needed. You did your best to not move enough to disturb Loki’s slumber, careful and slow movements meant it would take more time, but here under this crystal blue sky with all your love laying in your embrace, all you had was time.
You followed the remembered steps just as you had done so many springs and summers as a child when the weather was warm and the promise of fairytale adventures loomed all around and before long you produced a large circlet of flowers big enough to fit around Loki’s head. Pausing a moment, you admired your handiwork; it was not perfect, but it was made with all of your silent emotions and that made it more than worthy of him.
Loki still lay snoozing beneath you, not a sound he had made during the entire process as he had no reason to suspect a thing. His chest still heaved up and down in a slow and steady rhythm as you gently wreathed his head in those delicate blossoms and sat still to cherish how radiant something so simple made him appear.
It was only then that the prince began to stir slightly, the feeling of something being placed upon him that had not been there before giving just enough sensation to make him awake. His eyes opened leisurely and the moment he caught you in his sight, he smiled. “Am I dreaming or has an angel come to rest beside me?” Loki whispered sweetly as his hand came to grace the side of your cheek. “No, do not tell me, for if I am still asleep I would rather stay if it means I can gaze upon your face for longer.”
His honeyed words drifted to your ears and you inclined your head down towards Loki’s and placed your lips delicately to rest against his. “How is it you always know the right words to say?” you questioned back as your mouths parted.
“That is simple, love,” he beamed, “when I look at you it is my heart that speaks, not my brain.”
Now it was you that felt as if this were a dream, for who in the natural world would ever speak to you in such a way? Only the one who had taken a piece of your heart to safely lock away inside their own, who looked upon you with as much tenderness as that first meeting no matter how the years seemed to pass, who loved your spirit more than the physical vessel in which it occupied currently could say such heartfelt words.
Lost in your thoughts, you did not notice that Loki had reached his hand towards his forehead and with his fingertips felt the floral garland that you had crowned him with. “And what do we have here, my princess?” he asked as his fingertips continuing their journey around his head.
“I thought you needed a crown,” you said sweetly, picking up one of the unused yarrow at your side and twirling it in your fingers before Loki’s face. “One befitting the true king of my heart.”
There was a pause as Loki took in the raw sentiment of your words. This was not a crown forged of gold and sacrifice, it was not a symbol of conquest won by the blood of the fallen and tainted by it, this was much more rare and wonderful for it could only be won by pure love alone. It was fragile and delicate and only peace could keep it safe, not power. That made it more valuable to him than anything he could ever possess.
“It is the only crown I shall ever want,” he declared, an emotional waiver to his voice. “And I shall wear it with pride.”
Now they love each other on Earth and on Asgard 😭😭😭😭 why was I hoping for a hug, I am really invested in the duplicates love-life now (and omggg omg omg, how can Loki's double be so fucking loveable???)
The clear contrast between the two at the beginning because love changed our Loki, and then, seeing how the other one reacted and was still all doubtful, so we see him in the end putting effort to get better.
And the self-love?? You made everything we all wished for, Loki showing himself love and appreciation, not taking it well when he talks down on himself. It's so beautiful. And the way Loki keeps saying he's loved, and that he's being loved <3 <3
I adore how we can always feel the love through your words!!
The scene they hug gave me serotonin for the rest of my life. Amazing, I'm speechless as always.
"You don't want to. Or you're not able to. It's alright. If I were you, I wouldn't want to, either. I abandoned you. I left you. And I am sorry. I love you, Loki. I always will. No matter what you choose."
It really hit me this small part, I felt my heart shattering with that, in a good way, it was like a warm blanket embracing me, to know he's so very loved he's willing to wait, still be sorry and love him.
No matter what happens, please keep writing, you're amazing. Your writing is so symbolic and so special.
A God Can Hold His Liquor - Part 38: Duplicates
Summary: Loki’s mission is straight-forward. Take your duplicate to the police station in London. A simple task for an ethereal being with genius-level intellect. You have every confidence and trust in him to execute on his mission. And his intention was to carry out the plan, it truly was… until he bumps into an old friend, and he’s forced to think on his feet. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader (reads like an OC) Words: 3,200 Warnings: Surprisingly, this is somewhat PG. Pure comfort, really. And Loki having self-awareness and an unexpected therapy session. Contains: Fluff and hugs and self-love and Loki being good to himself.
A/N: At the bottom of the chapter, you’ll find the inspiration behind Loki’s disguise. ***
“I see you brought the girl.”
Loki stopped walking. You were in an abandoned underground tunnel in London, known to Loki from his familiarity when the transportation system was built several centuries prior. It was the logical route to the city after Heimdall beamed down the God to a rural location with the sole purpose to remain undetected. Only in the darkest recesses of Loki’s mind had he imagined the only drawback to his plan of traversing London’s underpasses. The only possible risk. And it stood in front of him.
He saw a large imposing figure of a man, dressed in black, his back turned to them, disguised by a large shadow. Instinctively, Loki reached for her hand and held it tightly. Slowly, the figure turned. His pale face broken up only by pink lips which curled into a snarl. His index finger raised, juxtaposing an otherwise clenched fist. “You brought her. Why?”
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