As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in the comfort of your bed, your fingers tracing the gentle contours of Loki's chest, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of slumber. He greets you with a tender, "Good morning, my dove." You respond by turning away from him, seeking solace in the soft embrace of your bed's sheets. With a playful affection, you mumble into the fabric, "You have a way of driving me to the brink of madness."
The sheets cocoon you in warmth, obscuring your expression from view but not your fondness for Loki. His response carries a playful undertone, "Ah, but you do the same to me." He turns to face you, gathering you into the gentle cradle of his arms, where the feeling of his chest against your back offers a comforting contrast to the softness of the bed linens.
Loki's fingers trace delicate patterns along your arm, each touch igniting a symphony of sensations that resonate within your soul. The scent of fresh linens mingles with the lingering traces of your shared warmth, creating an enchanting aroma that fills the air.
His voice, a soothing cadence in this sacred space, whispers sweet nothings into your ear. "You're the reason the morning feels this beautiful." His words are a testament to the love you share, painting the atmosphere with an even more profound tenderness.
With a soft smile, Loki's fingers find their way to your chin, gently coaxing you to turn back and face him. His eyes, like pools of emerald, lock onto yours, and there's a tender vulnerability in his gaze.
"Tell me, my love," he says, "what's been on your mind that has you burying yourself in the sheets this morning?"
You sigh, your gaze tracing the contours of his face, every detail a work of art in your eyes. "It's the way you make my heart race, Loki. Every morning feels like a new adventure with you, and it's both thrilling and terrifying."
His thumb grazes your cheek, and he leans in closer. "Thrilling and terrifying, hmm? I promise, my dear, I'll always be here to catch you when the thrill turns into a tremble."
A surge of affection swells within you, and you reach up to brush a lock of his dark hair away from his forehead. "And I'll be right here."
"Would you mind granting me a massage, Loki?" you inquire with a soft, inviting tone, your eyes reflecting a hint of longing. Loki's emerald eyes meet yours, a sly smile curling on his lips. "Why on Midgard would I mind?" he muses as he settles behind you, his touch deliberate and exquisite.
His skilled fingers embark on a journey, tracing the contours of your back, akin to a maestro caressing the strings of a Stradivarius violin, evoking sensations of tranquility and euphoria. With each artful stroke, your tension begins to dissolve, and you find yourself adrift in a sea of serenity.
But, in the midst of this bliss, a question lingers on your lips. "Loki, I have a query," you interject, your voice melodious. He leans in, his eyes focused on you, ready to unravel your every inquiry. "What is it?" Loki responds, his interest piqued.
The next words you speak leave him momentarily astounded, "When do you plan on leaving again?" The atmosphere in the room grows dense, the unspoken implications hanging heavy in the air. Loki clears his throat, his expression revealing his surprise, "I did not intend to leave you again."
You remain resolute, your voice tinged with skepticism, "Well, it's not as though I can trust you, Loki." The room falls into a contemplative silence, your trust and his promise the only links between you in that moment.
YOU ARE READING
Loki x Reader
Fanfiction[Smut] It's winter season. Most of New York is covered in snow. You thought spending some time alone, but that was not what Loki intended to do with your time.
