Marvel One-Shots! <3

This Is Not A Love Story.

Original Imagine: Inspired by my love of Anst and the new stills of our favorite Man from Jotunheim.

Reader Gender: Female 

Word Count: 1183

Warnings: ANST. ANST. ANST.

Author: contrygal7

* * * * *

"FUCK me."

Your voice carries across the empty room easily as your guard lowers instantly.

The liquid sex in his eyes, the swift confident movements of his strides towards you; and goddamn, that gold headdress nestled in the pitch black of his hair.

Loki looked of walking sex, and worse, the desire in his eyes was currently aimed at you.

His fingers found the headdress easily removing it in the same motion. The gold piece scattering easily across the hard floor. You couldn't help but notice the lock of hair that falls in front of the deep green spirals of his eyes.

Your voice is small and breathy "How long have you been standing there?"

He reached you swiftly, taking long solid strides looking down on you like an animal on the hunt. His voice sounded completely calm, he was in control and that pissed you off "Longer than you'd like. . . "

Goosebumps arise on your forearms, trailing to every inch of your body within moments as his skin finally touched yours. God he felt good.

Electricity flowed freely between the two of you. Your answering moan brought a sinister smile to his lips.

His hands were in your hair.

Pulling.

Lips soft like silk, fingers soft but determined, his breath ice cold against your overheated flesh.

Your body molded against his in the way you know he liked. Desperate to make him feel as infected by his appearance as you were.

The only sound in the large chamber hall was the deep breathing and squeak of leather against leather. His hands found the curve of your ass and lifted heavily pulling your body flush against the hard ridges of his chest. 

His body moved methodically, pulling sighs and moans from your body with only the move of his fingertips. He started on the back of your neck, whisping lightly across where your hair laid. 

Slowly moving to the zipper on the back of your leather battle corset. His fingers moved without thought, following every instruction your brain conjured up. 

Each caress against your skin invoking an underlining power in his touch. You could feel the control of his powers in his hands, how hard he was working not to ravish your body right then and there. 

And as if on cue, his breath hot and raggid in your ear "I stayed away as long as I could my love." You felt the truth in his touch, in the breath at the base of your neck, at the small nips against your skin he gently peppered over your shuttering body. 

He was a god. An actual honest to goodness god. And he acted like one. Taking what he pleased and giving very little shit about the consequenses of his actions. 

But in this moment. . . This small little sliver of time he alloted to you, to your pleasure, to his pleasure, you were just damned glad he bestoyed it upon you. 

His eyes, his wild eyes caught yours for a mere second, and what you saw there stopped your heart. Lonliness; total mind numbing lonliness. His eyes wilted, even in your touch they wilted. Fallen privy to the test of too much self hate and too little self control. 

You reached up in an soulful attempt to reach him on a level deeper than physical and his instant jolt back was answer enough. The green in his eyes showed the blantant anger that he felt in his heart "How dare you touch me peasant!" 

The revolt shown in his eyes clouded your judgment, instantly you felt ashamed. Head down, you obeyed. Your hand following suit, fallen to your lap. 

Maybe it wasn't meant to be.

 * * *

You'd had the same dream for almost a month now. Every ending a little distant when you woke, every beginning a little different than you remembered previously. But the one thing that remained the same was the look in his eyes. 

A look you knew all to well; the lost look of a boy who dreamed of dying just like his father, with a mentality to live and breathe like his mother. All cascaded into a man who no longer knew what life without anger would be. A life without love, a life without any kind of peace, a life with only the comforts of a bitter glory.

Each time you opened your eyes heavy tears fell from them, and each time you wiped angrily at the tears hating yourself for feeling something for the man who set fire to the world but never let the flames touch him. 

Every morning the same phrase left your lips "Goodbye my almost lover." And every evening you mumbled another slightly different phrase, a silent promise to the universe, "This is not a love story."

* * *

"It could be. . If you let it, my love." His hands laced deeply in your hair pulling your body closer to his own. His hands satin against your heated flesh. 

He lowered you gently against the deep green grass around him, looking down on you with a fire deep rooted in his emerald eyes. 

The early morning sun shining brightly against his pitch black hair, causing an illusion of softness and happiness. The hem of your short yellow sundress crept slowly up your thigh, enticing a wicked smile across Loki's face. 

His eyes roamed your body like one would roam books they were endlessly fascinated by. Smiling as his face buried deep in your neck, nipping and biting the soft flesh there. Giving you no other choice than to look at the view all around you.

The wildflowers to the side were bright hues of blue, yellow, red, and orange. Against the deep blue backdrop of the mountains it seemed to accent the bright sunlight that was high in the sky.  

You moan loudly feeling his warm tongue trail gently across your chest. 

Your head falls back heavily, eyes drooping as one of his rough hands gently slide up your inner thigh. Your breath catches heavily in your throat as his lips find once more.

You breathe deeply into his mouth as his hand begins teasing the soft skin at the base of your thighs.

His smile in that moment made you want to kiss the blood off his hands. Made you want to live in torment for the rest of your days, just so long as his agony was bestowed upon you instead of him.

You wished on every fiber of your being that you could just stay in this moment. Just stay under his delicate touch, under his piercing gaze. But alas, the edges of your vision became blurry once more.

His eyes mirrored the terror etched in your own, neither of you wanted this moment between you to end, and once more you woke shaking in tears. 

This was not a love story.