Loki X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

(MATURE) Blue ((Final) Part 3)

Y/N smirks. It's annoying how she can smirk at a time like this.

Loki doesn't feel like smirking.

"Are you capable of bad sex?"

She's trying to lighten the conversation, to make him smile, and it almost works. For a second nothing has changed; he looks like her, he's like her, like his brother and his father and his dear mother and everyone in her kingdom.

Then Y/N says seriously: "Are we going to spend our relationship just kissing on the sofa?"

Loki feels something on his leg and looks down to find her hand resting questioningly on his thigh. Little tingling tendrils of sensation spiral from the spot, and he shifts uncomfortably. Or comfortably. He likes it, but he shouldn't, it feels good on his skin but not his conscience.

"A minute ago you wanted more than that."

"Of course I do," it slips out, the words escaping from between his teeth.

"Then come back over here." She shrugs like it's no big deal. "It's okay. You don't have to show me if you don't want to."

He doesn't move, just looks slightly pained. "Y/N, when you touch me...I don't think I'll be able to help showing you."

"That's okay too." Smoothly, she slips under his arm so she's tucked against his side.

He feels his arm tighten about her shoulders automatically. He imagines keeping it there, and never letting go; a future with Y/N in it. He'd like that very much.

Her fingers at his chest, turn one of his shirt buttons over. "I sort of like that idea; stripping you of your spell...Unwrapping you. Like a present." With one hand, she guides his head down to kiss her lips, and he does, because he can't help himself.

He's only kissed her several times, and he already knows it's one of the greatest things he's ever experienced.

That, and her touch.

What she's doing now.

That hand is going down, finding the hem of his nightshirt. She tugs it up enough to expose a slip of his pale belly, and he groans against her lips as she slides a hand over it.

A little flower of blue appears where she'd touched, like ink bleeding through paper.

"Y/N," he almost whines as she does it again, the tips of her fingers brushing the underside of a rib.

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" She asks, breath hot against his mouth.

He can taste each word.

"When I undo your spell?"

He shakes his head. "No, it's not that. What you're doing is---is good."

Her other hand has found his hair again, and he's struggling to make his sentences come out in order.

"It's more about you seeing...what I am. People don't like...what I am."

"That's racist."

That does manage to make him laugh, an ungentlemanly snort through his nose.

"Loki I won't freak out, I promise. You could be multicoloured, have scales and a merman tail for all I care."

He sighs, partly because he's so close to relenting, and partly because she's doing something to him that he likes.

Her lips find his again, and he kisses back, so grateful he gets to kiss her back.

Slowly, he lets her push him down onto the bed.