Steamy Loki Short Stories

Say my name

As I exit the bathroom, the steam from my recent hot shower dissipates into thin, wispy clouds that vanish into the air.

Clad in a towel that envelops my body snugly, my hair still damp, I find myself humming the infectious tune that's been lingering in my mind throughout the day.

With a spring in my step, I approach my dressing table, eagerly looking forward to indulging in my beloved floral-scented body lotion. However, a strong sensation of being observed halts me in my tracks, as if someone's gaze is delving into the depths of my soul. Before I can turn to address the source of this eerie feeling, the familiar tune playing in my mind is hummed aloud, and I quickly identify the voice behind the melody.

Slowly, I pivot around, and just as expected, I discover Loki, lounging nonchalantly on my opulent, four-poster bed, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk.

I narrow my eyes, fixing him with a piercing gaze, and confront him with a curt question, "What are you doing in my room?"

He merely grins.

"Should I summon the guards to remove you, or are you capable of being a good boy and leaving quietly for once?" I rest my hands on my hips, showing him that I mean business.

Loki leisurely straightens up, his unwavering gaze locked onto mine as he perches on the edge of my bed. "Oh, don't be coy, darling, there's no need to play innocent. We both know you do not prefer good boys." His smug smile creeps wider and he rises to his full height.

With an air of confidence, he initiates a deliberate advance towards me. Each step carries with it a predatory aura, his movements betraying an untamed instinct that declares him as the hunter and me as his prey.

With determination, I maintain my stance, refusing to let his sudden appearance shake me. But as he stops mere inches away from me, erasing any ounce of personal space, my resolve begins to waver, and I momentarily forget about the restraining order that is in place. I should have known, having been acquainted with Loki for quite some time, that a mere piece of paper decreeing that he should stay away from me would be utterly ineffective in keeping him at a distance.

With a tender gesture, he raises his hand and gently brushes aside a damp strand of hair that clings to my face, tucking it behind my ear with a delicate touch. "I've missed you, kitten. The time spent apart from you is sheer torture," he murmurs, his voice laced with longing.

My heart quivers within my chest as memories of the love we once shared resurface, recalling the poetic and sweet words he used to whisper. Though they were merely uttered words, they possessed the power to melt my heart.

Swiftly, before he embarks on a beautiful sonnet about all the ways in which he could get lost in my captivating eyes, I gather my strength and take a step back, determined not to let his words sway me.

"You'll have to become accustomed to the torment," I respond firmly, holding my ground. "Now, should I raise my voice and summon Frigga, alerting her to your violation of the restraining order?"

He released a frustrated huff, his eyes rolling dismissively in response to my warning. His sweet words usually work.

"Threatening to call mother is beneath you, darling. But if it gives you some satisfaction, go ahead and yell. I have no fear of her," he challenged, crossing his arms defiantly to emphasise his lack of concern.

I gaze at him, studying his seemingly fearless posture that conceals any trace of trepidation. However, my keen observation catches the subtle bob of his Adam's apple, revealing a nervous swallow. A triumphant grin creeps across my face, relishing the knowledge that my threat has indeed unsettled him. Such a clever trickster, but his facade is up, his cunning mask has slipped.