The Heat of the Snow // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter 13

Warning! Sexual content! Please let me know what you think! I love hearing your thoughts ♥️

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"I'm falling for you, Y/N..."

The words still linger, ringing in your ears after four more hours of sleep. He's falling for me...am I...am I falling for him too?

You wince, clutching at his arms that are still tight around you. The feeling of him pressed against your back is the most secure you've felt in a long time. But what could it mean? Ultimate heartbreak? After all these years, your life has been planned. You'd work here in the camp, drinking in the very air that your mother took as her last. To leave her behind is something you can't quite picture. Your heart is tied here, to this place. To the mountains and snow. To the dogs as they pant and race through the glades. To the warm bubbling springs that hold a thousand memories. It'd be impossible.

But what of Loki?

Quickly, the idea of being away from him is becoming an unwelcome thought too. He's peeled back the protective layers in your skin, seeped into the very marrow of your bones, and taken root there. A dark light—different from any you've felt before. A radiance that not only penetrates your soul but also forces yours to answer a reply. He's opened me up without me realising...

Yet, it's only been days.

Less than days.

Though, the ache between your legs is evidence of what your body thinks to that—that it couldn't care less how much time has passed. Having Loki is just something that had to happen. As simple as being starved of oxygen and drawing in that last desperate lungful of breath. A lifeline, without you realising it. Was it inevitable?

The heat in your lower body tells you, 'yes'. Still squirms for his fingers, replaying the imagery of the past night. The deepness of him as he'd flipped you down to the bed and driven his cock home.

Your thighs clench, longing for more friction. It's just lust, right? Plain old lust.

Surely...

The next time you open your eyes, it's lighter outside the igloo—the snow still tumbling and bouncing glittering beams through the glass. But the thing you notice the most is the absence of warm skin at your back. The absence of firm hands and arms gripping you possessively.

"Loki?" you whisper, reaching for his side of the bed. It's still warm.

You sit up slowly with a yawn before trying to flatten your hair. Going to bed with it wet had left it unruly and full of waves.

"Don't," Loki says, stepping into the doorway, wearing his black pyjama bottoms again. He gestures to your hair. "I like it like that."

You cast him a lopsided smile. "Right, sure."

"I'm serious. I enjoy how you look after last night."

Your face flushes involuntarily, your hands tightening in the furs as you pull them up to your chin. He's so brazen and sure of himself. And you know he knows how it affects you—his grin says as much. That's when you notice the log of wood he's holding. "Did the fire go out?" It still felt warm and cosy inside the igloo, but that might just be the adrenaline currently pumping through your veins.

"Nearly," he says, stepping away to tend to the wood-burning stove. "We were asleep for a while I think."

The memory of being clutched tightly to his chest fills your mind, alongside the sweet words he'd whispered as you'd both fallen asleep. Does he remember what he said? Maybe he was just saying things without knowing it...