A collection of Loki and Sylvie reader inserts that take place during or draw inspiration from the new Loki tv show. Please read the warnings at the beginning of each fic.
Summary: When Sylvie realises that the reader is insecure about herself, she takes matters into her own hands to show her how beautiful she is in Sylvie's eyes.
Gender: Female
Rating: Explicit, 18+
Tags: F/F smut (masturbation, fingering, strap on, fucking in front of a mirror, very mild choking), insecurities, slight Dom!Sylvie, soft fluff, wheelchair user, disabled!reader, pet names (sweetheart, baby), mentions of mind reading
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Sylvie didn't mean to look so deep into your mind but trust was difficult for her. She kept most people at arm's length and never let herself get attached. At least, that was how it had always been until she met you. Not only were you one of the most gorgeous women she'd ever seen, you had a personality to match. Sweet and quick witted, yet with a tongue more than sharp enough to talk circles around everyone you met. Fast to flirt back with anyone, the wicked glint in your eye enough to snare the attention of people everywhere. The first time you'd left her speechless was the first moment Sylvie knew she had to have you.
And then when you'd offered your thoughts, your memories, and opened your past to her to prove you trusted her in the hope of inspiring a reciprocal feeling in her... She couldn't help but go deeper. Sylvie wanted to know you, wanted to understand this connection and confirm for her own selfishness that you felt the same way. Never in all of her life had she felt such joy to learn that you did.
But there was more beneath your thoughts of love and your desire for her (though, she would freely admit the ego boost it provided to feel the sheer heat and intensity of the lust she had ignited within you). The depths of your mind were a labyrinth of conflicting feelings, joy and wonder underscored by an insecurity that Sylvie would never have imagined plaguing you, that your dazzling confidence was little more than an illusion behind which to hide.
You'd spoken before of the complex tapestry of emotions woven around your wheelchair. The good, the bad, the ugly, you'd shared it all. Feeling it for herself was something entirely different, though. All this time you'd carried the weight of expectation on your shoulders, second guessing the thoughts of all those around you, never sure if others – if she – saw you as a burden or if, on better days, they dared to doubt you needed the chair at all.
Still, it ran even deeper than that. Beyond your chair, Sylvie was shocked to learn that your insecurities were rooted at the very core of your mind. As your memories swirled around her, evenings spent together in fancy bars at the end of the world, dressed to the nines in the most spectacular gowns she could steal, she hated herself for not realising how you shied from attention. Oh, you'd smiled when she called you a goddess, compared you to her deities for lack of any earthly comparison as the falling stars bathed you in light and sparkled in your eyes, but when she looked away you'd never quite believed her.
You deserved to see yourself the way she saw you – sexy, glorious brave, practically iridescent – and Sylvie had thought of nothing else for weeks, how to let you look through her eyes. And then it came to her. The perfect plan.
