Loki x Reader

Chapter 21

Warning: Smut

Loki's decision to visit your house was a clandestine endeavor, driven by an insatiable longing he could no longer suppress. Under the veil of a moonlit night, he surreptitiously slipped out, his actions cloaked in a shroud of secrecy. Unbeknownst to you, you sat alone in the dimly lit living room, fully engrossed in the tantalizing pages of a book. Every word you devoured brought forth vivid memories of Loki, memories that you had tried so hard to bury deep within.

You endeavored to push those thoughts away, convinced that you had managed to move beyond the enigmatic trickster. Yet, as you remained seated there with your cherished book in hand, a faint, unmistakable sound graced your ears—the soft, almost ghostly creak of the wooden floor, betraying the presence of an intruder. Startled, you turned, your gaze meeting nothing more than a mysterious, looming silhouette. The obscurity concealed his features, shrouding him in an aura of enigma.

As the shadowy figure advanced, you realized, with a potent mix of surprise and exasperation, that it was none other than Loki himself who had breached the sanctum of your home. His presence there, with a countenance bearing an unusual blend of anger and arrogance, left you seething with emotions you hadn't anticipated. "What are you doing here? Go back to the tower," you snapped, your voice tinged with a simmering rage that had been ignited by his unexpected intrusion. This was a vulnerability you hadn't felt before, and it both bewildered and angered you.

"I find this place more appealing," Loki retorted, taking a step closer, his hands delicately resting on the back of the couch behind you. He loomed over you, his piercing gaze momentarily flitting to the book you clutched. "What book are you reading this time, bookworm?" he asked, a teasing smirk dancing upon his lips, his presence a captivating contradiction that both unsettled and intrigued you. His comment grated on your nerves, though you couldn't deny the rush of emotions he evoked.

"I've told you once already to leave my house. Isn't that enough for you?" you shot back, your patience dwindling rapidly as his audacity continued to defy your expectations. Loki's brazen invasion of your sanctuary only served to intensify your irritation.

"I'll leave when I see fit," Loki declared, his anger mirroring yours as he remained within your personal space. Frustrated and flustered, you sighed in exasperation, realizing that forcing him out of your house was not a task that could be accomplished through mere willpower.

With a delicate touch, Loki began to idly play with your hair, his fingers weaving through the strands with a familiarity that sent a shiver down your spine. It was an intimate gesture, one that transported your mind back to the moments you had once shared, lying side by side. Despite your best efforts, maintaining your focus on the book became nearly impossible.

Loki shifted his position, moving to sit beside you on the couch. His fingers continued their beguiling dance through your hair, a gesture that resonated with a deeply shared history, fraught with unspoken tension. You struggled to suppress the surging emotions within you, but the pull of your entangled past and the palpable chemistry between you two made it nearly impossible to concentrate on the pages of your book.

"You know, my dear," Loki purred, his voice dripping with amusement, "I can't help but wonder if you enjoy reading more than you let on. The way you pore over the writings, it's as though you're searching for something deeper than just words."

Your heart quickened, and you met his gaze, finding those emerald eyes filled with a mischievous glint.

Loki's lips curled into a sly smile, and he leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours. "Ah, my dear, you know I crave you," he whispered, his breath caressing your skin.

The magnetic pull between you and Loki was undeniable, and you felt your body respond to his presence in a way that was both thrilling and forbidden. The room seemed to close in around you as the enigmatic god of mischief leaned in further, the tension reaching its zenith.