Warning! Explicit sexual content and all that good stuff ;)
***
"Your home on...?"
Loki sighs, "Asgard. You will have heard of it."
"Only from my childhood stories," Stefan scoffs.
Loki wastes no time lifting his hand, conjuring a firework to pop and crackle before Stefan's face. And at the same time, he lets his clothes melt, quickly shifting back into the green and gold armour he's known for. It takes the old man a few moments to remember how to breathe. "You...you're..."
"Yes," Loki confirms, reading the man's thoughts and planting a sweeping calm in their place. "But I'm not going to hurt you or your daughter."
"You...am I losing my mind?"
"No," Loki says brusquely. Humans could be so tiring at times. "I'm real. Asgard is real. And I..." Suddenly words threaten to fail him. "...and I love your daughter. I want to help make things right."
Dazed once more, Stefan takes a deep, shuddering breath and makes a move to sit down in the chair beside your bed. For a long moment, Loki wonders if Stefan will say anything. The old man looks pensive, far away with his thoughts. When he attempts to read them, the emotions returned to him are turbulent, like a raging sea. Though he understands. When Loki turns to look at your pale beautiful face again, he feels that same torturous haze of bewilderment.
"I know you feel helpless," Loki starts, fixing his gaze back on Stefan. "I feel that too. But right now, there is something I can do to help. I can take her back to Asgard."
"Forever?" Stefan asks quietly, surprised he's actually accepting the situation presented to him. For some reason, Loki's explanation is believable. He trusts what he's saying.
Forever...would it be forever? Loki certainly wishes it so. He wants nothing more than to wrap you up and whisk you away to his world. Make you his Queen. Make love to you over and over in his bed. Never let you go. But how? Your wild spirit is what drew him to you. Your mind...your beautiful mind so stubborn and sure. If he were to take you to Asgard and you were to wake in the unknown, what would you do? Would you demand to leave? You'd certainly promised you'd never leave Midgard. Loki tugs his fingers through his loose hair. What if she thinks I kidnapped her?
With a light growl, he stands up straight, defiant. So be it. If it's what it takes to make her better, I would do it. Even if it meant she hated me...even if it meant... Loki winces. Even if it meant me losing her.
"Not forever," he finally answers. "She would be able to return to you when she is well."
Something shimmers in the water of Stefan's eyes. And Loki recognises it immediately. Hope. "Do what you must, Loki of Asgard. If what you're saying is true and I'm to believe you and the stories...then Y/N is in the best hands with you."
"It's more than that," Loki breathes. "I would give her my life."
***
A week in Asgard might as well have been a year. With you in Loki's bed chambers, still unconscious despite the numerous healers he'd brought in to help. You need time and rest, apparently. That there is nothing wrong with you. A good thing for sure. But why are you still not waking up? Loki had mulled over this question a thousand times, cursing your stubbornness. Even in this state, you continued to push his buttons.
"How is she doing?"
Loki turns to the door, where his mother stands in a wrap of sky blue and dazzling gold. But it's the knowing look on her face which catches his attention. "Much the same," he says tightly, turning back to your face—now draped in the soft afternoon light.
"You have to be patient, my dear," Frigga says as she steps inside, her feet light on the marbled floors.
Loki doesn't reply, but she notices the muscle dancing in his cheek. It's a vision of her son she hadn't known before now. This warmer, gentler creature before her. In fact, when he'd returned the difference in him had shocked them all—even Odin. But with all the commotion, they had refrained from voicing their observations—and concerns. For now.
"If there's nothing wrong with her..." Loki says, his voice no more than a whisper, "...then why doesn't she wake?"
"Midgardians are complex. They do not heal in the same way as us. Give her time."
Once again, Loki says nothing, and Frigga's attention is drawn to you now. This young girl, so small in her son's bed...but powerful enough to bring him to his knees. She'd seen him, by your side, in the early hours where she'd dared not interrupt...pleading with you to wake. Promising you the world if you were to open your eyes in that moment and return to him.
The sounds of his pleas had torn at her heart. Frigga had immediately known the depth of feeling he had for this young woman. It was something not even Thor had yet found—despite his occasional focus on Jane.
Loki and Y/N are different...not even Odin could deny that...
"You love this girl," Frigga says softly, drawing Loki's attention. "Don't you, my son?"
The answer is there in his eyes before he can even open his mouth, but she waits anyway, giving him a moment. "Yes," he says finally, "yes, mother...I do."
Frigga approaches him slowly before placing a soft palm to his cheek. It's cool and full of light, just like he always remembered. "Then, my dear...you must wait."
***
You're lying on a cloud. You must be. The softness beneath you is unlike anything you've ever felt. How long have you been here in this fluffy white dream? It had been full of him. Full of his voice, his whispers...his lips. You'd felt it all, even though you'd been just out of reach. Sailing off in your own little bubble, sorting through your mind to make sure everything made sense again.
But despite all that, his voice had remained an anchor. It was like you'd felt him there, waiting for you to return to him. Waiting for you to be ready.
Your eyelids flutter, meeting a dim light. It's not clear enough to focus on, but you try anyway. Something around you is swaying slightly, as if caught in a gentle breeze, and the more you try to concentrate, the more your mind swims.
Closing your eyes again, you take a soft breath, counting to 10 before trying again. After a moment, you realise the swaying wall is material...soft translucent material. I'm in bed...a bed that's not my own...
You frown, turning your head slightly. The bed is incredibly big, but you're unsure if that's just your mind playing tricks. It's still too dark to see properly, still too dark to make out where you are. But the soft sounds of breathing catch your attention.
There, next to you, with an arm twisted around the folded pillow beneath his head, is Loki.
Asleep, he could be a fallen angel. But when you look closer, you notice his face is troubled, his eyebrows pinched—even in an unconscious state. You're not sure how long you stare at him. It could be hours. But also minutes. The only thing you know is that the gentle rise and fall of his chest is a comfort, soothing...lulling you back to sleep despite the strangeness of the situation. He's there, at least. Protecting you. Just like he said he would a thousand times in your dreams.
Everything will be okay.
***
When you open your eyes again, it's still dark. And you find yourself turning instinctively to the spot where Loki is laying, atop the pillowy duvet. He's closer this time, his arm mere centimetres from yours, his body warmth radiating across the short distance.
On its own accord, your hand reaches for his, and the sudden sensation of his skin brushing yours fires a thousand shocks of electricity through your fingertips. You turn over slowly to face him, sliding your fingers up his wrist, around his forearm where his shirt has been pushed to his elbow. Though now relaxed, the memory of how these muscles would bunch and release creep like little intruders into the forefront of your mind. The curve of his mouth, now soft and upturned, but forcing you to remember how it feels when nuzzling the sweetest parts of you.
Instinctively, you press your thighs together before shifting closer. Closer to that warmth, closer to the sensations you remember.
Loki stirs slightly but doesn't wake. Not even when you slide your hands up his chest before running a finger under his jaw. He's angelic in this light, his pale skin almost luminescent, hiding a strange power you'd never witnessed in him before.
"Loki," you whisper against his lips before pressing yours to them.
It takes him all of a second.
Eyes flying open, Loki jerks backwards, his eyes suddenly delirious, struggling to make sense of what's happening. He searches your face for a moment as if tempting reality to be this cruel. That this is just a dream. That you might disappear once again, as you have in his nightmares countless times before.
"Y/N...?"
"Hi," you reply softly.
And suddenly he's kissing you, leaning up on his elbow and pulling your face in—a hand cupped tight around your head. It's like breathing and suffocating all at once. The sensation of him surrounding you, the desperation of his mouth on yours. You can feel the focus in the way he frowns, determined to make sure that this is real, that you are there in his arms. You're pretty sure your knees would have given out had you been standing up.
"I thought I'd lost you..." Loki manages to say between kisses, capturing your mouth once more and pulling you in deeper.
"I'm right here," you gasp when he kisses your jaw, your face, your ear, your neck.
"I thought I'd lost you," he says again, almost frantically.
The distance between you is gone when he shoves the duvet away, and you expect the sharpness that follows the cold winter air, but it doesn't come. All that's between you is warmth. Glorious golden warmth.
"Loki..." you sigh as his mouth finds your collarbone.
Loki's hands are on you once more, tugging you against his body. The material you're wearing is silken, soft and thin—unlike anything you've ever worn before. And you probably would have asked more about this—and your surroundings—had you not been distracted by the pooling heat now gathering in the pit of your stomach. All you can see is him. All you can feel is him too. The need to be as close to him as possible.
"Are you okay?" he gasps, suddenly remembering you'd only been unconscious moments before. What if he was hurting you? What if you didn't know what you were doing? Pulling back slightly, he cups your face, searching it as if to check for wounds he'd missed over the last couple of weeks.
"I'm okay," you say softly, pawing at his chest. "Please...please, Loki..."
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks again, his hands travelling over your body. "Is there anywhere that hurts?"
"No," you say, sliding your hand down and cupping him through the leathery material he's wearing. The supple feeling of it is surprising, and it's too dark to really see, but the image in your head only serves to make the heat pool faster. The image of peeling it off him, especially.
You hook a bare leg over his waist and cup him again, relishing the sound of the light gasp that escapes his throat. "Please..."
I must be dreaming, Loki thinks to himself. This is too perfect to be real. He'd been waiting for you to wake up and fall back into his arms. And here you are, doing just that. Doesn't she have questions? Doesn't she remember our fight? Loki shoves the thoughts away and slides a hand down your side to your thigh before bunching the soft silk in his fist.
Eyes locking, even in the dim light, the promise between you is undeniable. This is happening. And questions and fights can wait. I need her...I need her surrounding me. "I need you," he says, voicing his inner thoughts.
With a small smile, you take his hand now squeezing your thigh, pushing it down between you. "I'm here," you whisper, closing your eyes as he slips his fingers under the hem of your nightgown. The reaction is immediate in your gasp. A finger pressed to the warmest part of you—still separated by a soft slip of silken fabric. Loki takes no time to push it to the side, watching your face as he dips a digit into the slippery wetness before pressing it to your clit.
Your hands are moving, sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. And as he captures your lips, he begins to circle...to rub gently...and it takes everything in him to stay controlled—wanting nothing more than to shove you down, rip off the leather keeping him from you and drive in deep.
The sensation builds, your legs shaking as you press deeper against him. You don't want to be anywhere else but here, with him. Feeling this forever. "Inside...please..." you gasp, bucking your hips against his hand.
So hard now against his trousers, Loki grits his teeth and slides a finger inside you, relishing at how you whimper...at how your pussy clamps and releases, letting him in. She's so beautiful...so deliciously wet... He can hardly believe he'll be inside you shortly...but it's true. He will. All the warriors of Asgard wouldn't be able to stop him at this point.
"Deeper, please..." you moan against his lips, frustrated at the torturously slow pace.
But he ignores you, choosing instead to savour the moment, delighting in how your body begins to shake when he bites your jaw and joins his finger with a second. "Fuck..." you moan as he palms your clit on the upstroke. It's everything, but not enough—and he knows this. The grin against your cheek tells you as much.
"I've waited seemingly a lifetime for this, Y/N. And then some. Your body is mine to do with as I wish." Loki curls his fingers upwards into the soft spongey wetness of your g-spot, making you whine and grind against him. "And right now, I intend to make it sing."
Fuck...
You groan, your head moulding into the pillow as he presses you back to sit up comfortably between your spread legs. With an open mouth—your gasp merely a whisper—you watch him draw his fingers to his mouth and suck them clean. "Loki, I..."
"Ssh..." Then he pushes your knees apart, spreading you open even more to expose your glistening wetness to the dim light. "I want you to feel everything Y/N...I want you to never forget the feeling of me filling you up. You're mine." In the darkness, you watch the shadowed outline of him reach for his belt...the clank of the buckle...the sweep of leather as he stands up in the centre of the bed, towering over you. "And I'm never going to tire of this."
Shoving the leather from his hips and stepping out of the pooled material, Loki bears down on you...kissing the inside of your open knee as he travels closer and closer to your centre. Your back arches involuntarily at his warm breath, the tip of his tongue as it touches your clit before giving it one deep, flat lick. "Fuck!" you cry, fisting the bedsheets as he presses your thighs back down, holding you immobile.
He hadn't realised how much he'd missed this. The taste of you. The sound of your moans. He'd been so desperately worried about you waking up, of course. And obviously, that was the most important thing. But this...
Loki spreads your pussy apart and nuzzles his nose into the wetness before concentrating his tongue, over and over on your clit.
"Fuck...Loki, please..."
Loki grins against your flesh. Yes...this is something else...
You reach for him in the darkness, desperately wanting him inside you. You want to come with him inside you. And without wasting any more time, Loki lets you pull him up.
Suddenly you're both against each other, his hard strong body pressing you down into the bed as your legs wrap around his waist involuntarily. Neither of you needs to guide him. His cock finds that warm wet space between your legs of its own accord...and pushes.
And you both gasp as he enters, clutching each other tightly as your pussy opens up readily, inch by delicious inch. It's only when he's fully in, his hips seated hard against yours, that he has to remind himself to focus. To prevent the haze from settling down over his eyes and bucking into you madly.
Your eyes are so beautiful in the dim light, crystalline, looking up at him under heavy lids. And Loki sweeps your hair back before brushing a soft kiss over your lips.
"I love you, Y/N," he admits softly, pressing his forehead to yours. "I love you so much."
"I love you," you reply earnestly, squeezing your thighs tightly to his waist.
"Don't leave me again," he says through gritted teeth before slowly withdrawing. "Promise me."
You nod, gasping at the emptiness, desperate to claw him back. To keep him there—keep the head of his cock constantly pulsing against the deepest part of you. But he doesn't let you move. Once again, he savours every moment, every plea. "Say you promise," he grinds out.
Another moan escapes your throat, guttural this time. "Loki...fuck..."
"Say it."
"I promise!" you gasp.
And that's when he grabs your arms tightly before thrusting up hard. The frenzy is immediate. His legs flexing as he sinks into you over and over, keeping a hand to your throat, holding you in place. Mine...all mine...
And in the midst of it, you buck your hips as much as you are able to, desperately trying to meet his thrusts, begging him to keep going. Your eyes are locked, full of a thousand emotions. That you belong to each other, that you're never going to leave, that this is forever, that this is the only place you ever want to be—in each other's arms.
Loki yanks you up, tearing the silk over your breasts, exposing them to his eager mouth. And when his teeth take a nipple, you arch up again, giving him the perfect angle to drive into you harder. And it's the perfect angle for you too. The head of his cock plunges into your g-spot each time he fills you up, massaging you so deeply you forget to breathe.
"Loki!" you cry. It's mere seconds. So close you could scream. But the words can't make it past your lips. God, don't let him stop...please don't let him stop...!
The thrusts are sharp, indicating Loki's own control unravelling like a silken ribbon. Once, twice, three times more, and he feels your pussy clench impossibly tight...the moan tearing from your throat as you come hard, fingernails grappling for his shoulders.
And as your eyes meet once more, connecting in the centre of the storm, Loki's own orgasm bursts forth, knocking reality sideways. You pull him into you, as far as he can go, promises cascading from your lips as warm come spills eagerly into your waiting pussy.
"I love you," he whispers again, into your hair.
And you say it back, clutching him to you.
The only time you move is when velvety light begins to cascade through the undulating drapes hanging around the bed frame. Drapes that you've never seen before.
You frown, coming down from the high of having him so explicitly, your eyes flicking to each and every unfamiliar sight—the gold silken bedsheets, the wide wooden bed—your nose picking up the heady scent of incense as it hangs thickly in the air. It's nothing you recognise. Nothing that you know from home.
And in the light, as it creeps towards your bodies lying entwined in the sheets, you suddenly realise the problem.
"Loki...?"
Loki hums into your neck. "Yes, my darling?"
"...where the fuck are we?"