Loki X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

(MATURE) Blue (Part 2)

Without him noticing, Y/N has pulled her legs in and crossed them. "...Why did it stop? Just now."

Loki feels his cheeks flush. The corner of his lip twitches despite himself. "I think it was because you pulled my hair."

"What?" Something like a smile ghosts Y/N's expression too. She's still watching him, but expectantly. The fear is gone, but somehow he'd rather it stayed. He'd been about to let a mortal go to bed with a Frost Giant. What had he been thinking?

That's just it. He hadn't been thinking.

Well, he had, but about the wrong things.

He'd been thinking about how Y/N is always somehow warm, and how---for once---he doesn't mind the feeling. Like sun on his face, or fresh toast.

He'd been thinking about her breasts against his chest as he'd carried her, how her lips had flushed an appealing red with his kisses.

He'd been thinking about her, but not him, because thoughts about himself seem utterly uninteresting whenever Y/N is around. And recently she's been around a pleasingly large amount.

"I liked it. It made me...lose concentration."

Y/N flashes him a little bit of her teeth, her tone light and teasing: "Haven't you fought in battles? Didn't you lose concentration then?"

"No one on the battlefield has ever pulled my hair just right."

They both giggle, a little nervously, the sound thin in the still air. They'd been so quick before; so rough before. That mark he's sucked onto Y/N's neck is still there, a testament to their earlier raucousness. It'll still be there for a while, Loki thinks with a mixture of pride and an awful gnawing feeling so close to guilt.

Is an arousing tug at his hair all it takes to awaken such barbaric instincts?

Y/N is the one to break the silence. "...So...what do you look like?"

"You don't want to know."

"Why not?" She moves closer, shuffling forward on the mattress.

A minute ago that would have eased Loki's nerves, but now it sets them on edge. He edges back a little, as if scared to touch her. The blue is gone from his hands but he feels like it's still there, bright like the skin of a dangerous reptile, a warning of poison and No Good.

"Do you have big twisted horns? Or wings like a bat?"

"No, nothing like that---"

"Because you know, Loki---" Y/N gets closer to him "---even if you did, I wouldn't care."

Of course she would. Everybody does. If his life has been anything, it's been a thousand-year lesson teaching him that People Do Not Like What Is Different From Themselves:

As a child he'd been treated with scorn for preferring to read rather than play with wooden swords.

As an adolescent he'd been regarded with mistrust for mastering sorcery, his magic regarded as cheap tricks rather than an art.

And then now. Holding his hands closer to his chest, Loki shakes his head. "You would."

"I wouldn't." Y/N gets closer to him, and he runs out of mattress to retreat to. Her knee brushes his thigh and his heart jumps.

He'd like to bundle her closer, to take her in his arms again.

Leaning right forwards, she kisses his cheek, and then his lips.

He lets her. He knows he should pull away, but he can't quite do it. He's trying, but she tastes so sweet, feels so soft. She's so warm and he's so cold.

"Come on, tell me." Another kiss.

He's so still, taught like a bow. He has to be, or he'll accidentally reach for her hips.

She's not making self-control easy for him, and he wonders if she knows that as she works her way up his face, lip, cheek, eyebrow, widow's peak. The point of her nose nudges sideways, into his hair and she finds his ear---pink now---and kisses that too. "I already know there's blue involved."

His heart is in his mouth.

"A very pretty shade of blue."

"You're just saying that." But hope edges his words.

Is this how Thor feels when girls ogle his burly arms, snatch glances at his sunshine-coloured hair?

Is Loki an attractive Jotunn? He'd never really thought about it before. On his home planet, would he be ignored as he had been on Agard? Passed off as weak, more gangly than tall, skinnier than his peers?

Small, for a frost giant

Yes, he guesses he would.

Y/N nips him playfully in her teeth, breaking his stupor.

It gets a little moan.

"I'm not. I mean it."

This isn't his home planet. This isn't Jotunheim, this isn't Asgard. And Y/N doesn't see him as weak, or small, or even a frost giant. She sees him as him.

Just Loki.

"Come one. Please show me." She's still caressing his ear, the shell of it, then down to the lobe, and it feels even better.

He knows what she's doing.

She's trying to make it happen again, what she'd done earlier; that little flowering of blue. She's trying to make him lose focus.

He's concentrating so hard, his jaw gritted tight as Y/N soothes his skin with another kiss. It's not even a kiss, it's too open to be a kiss, too wet, and Loki feels that excited tightening beginning to build again in his stomach. He wants to take her waist, but instead finds her shoulders and pushes her away.

"No."

Y/N frowns, surprised. Her brows come together in a disappointed line. "So what? We'll just never have sex?"

The fact that she wants to makes a silent groan break between Loki's ribs. "Or we'll just have really bad sex so I don't get too distracted."

He's not sure if he's joking or not.

If Y/N wants to bed a Jotunn, that is her choice, yes? But would it not be morally wrong to take advantage of her ignorance? She doesn't know of the stigma. As soon as the people of Asgard---the men and women of his own kingdom---had caught wind of Loki's true heritage, they'd turned their backs to him---

Well, they would have done, if they'd trusted his species enough to let him out of their sight. No, instead they'd almost done the opposite; watched him extra closely, monitored him extra caution, as though he's a fox trusted to mingle amongst a flock of chickens.

If Y/N had been raised as one of them, if she knew of who---what---he really is, would she still want to go through with this? Would she still want him?