Okay, so as some of you might know, there is a blog on Tumblr called "Loki's Dirty Whispers." They're having a fanfiction contest using the whispers that people have submitted, so I decided to try my hand. I'm super nervous, because 1. it's a contest, and 2. I've never written Loki fanfiction before. So please read, critique, tell me what you think. I'm looking for some feedback before I send it in to the mods. Thanks!
The young woman straightened from her studious hunch over her notes, rubbing her sore shoulders, and sighed. The article would have to wait until she'd taken a shower. Her eyes flicking around the room, she relaxed momentarily when she realized she was alone. It had been almost a month and a half since she'd found her current houseguest lying in the fields outside, unconscious and strangely dressed. Somehow, she'd managed to get him back to her home and onto the couch, and five hours later, he'd finally come to, asking her what realm they were in. She, of course, had been baffled.
"Um…the Midwest?"
He must have gotten a satisfactory answer from her voice alone, because he didn't ask any more questions about his location. Instead, he'd tried to stand, thanking her rather stiffly for her assistance and managing only two steps before collapsing. She caught him and maneuvered him back onto the couch, gently commanding him to rest. His eyes-such deep, mystical eyes-flashed, but he did as she requested. An hour and a half later, they began talking once again, and she'd learned that he called himself Loki. She almost rolled her eyes, but decided not to. If he wanted to give himself the name of an old Norse god, then far be it from her to condemn him. Despite her urging, he wouldn't tell her much about himself or where he came from. This worried her; since she was the one who had found him, she felt a certain responsibility for him. There were times when he still seemed weak, stumbling periodically or grimacing slightly. Not to mention, sometimes, she saw something in his eyes, those beautiful forest-green eyes that had captivated her from the second he opened them. There was something that lurked within them, some deep, unimaginable heartache that hurt her just as deeply whenever she glimpsed it. She had always been too compassionate for her own good, and even though she knew nothing about this dark-haired stranger, didn't know if he was dangerous or unstable or just plain crazy, she was still willing to put herself at risk just to help him, just so she could try to heal his wounds. He was human, after all; he deserved her kindness as much as anybody, perhaps more.
Rubbing her eyes, she rose from her desk. Loki wasn't in the living room or the kitchen, so she assumed he was outside again. He had adapted quite readily to her nocturnal schedule, and would go outside to enjoy the night air often; frequently, he would forgo wearing a shirt. He claimed to find the climate here too warm for his tastes, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he did it just to get a rise out of her. And, to her chagrin, it worked. She couldn't help but find him incredibly attractive, with his lean but muscular frame, his sharp, chiseled features; his slender, elegant hands and his soft black hair that feathered against his neck, making his pale skin seem striking. And then there were his eyes; she bit her lip, picturing them in her mind as she pulled a clean, folded towel from the linen closet. They were the feature she admired most about him. They managed to appear mischievous, forthright, cunning, seductive, angry, and desperate all at the same time. Those eyes fascinated her, and he knew it.
The girl sighed as she locked herself in the bathroom, shedding her clothes and turning on the water. Once the shower was warm enough, she stepped inside and closed the curtain, smoothing her hair back from her face under the spray of glistening drops. She intended to stay in here for a long time and just enjoy the solitude.
XXX
Loki was not outside, as his little self-appointed guardian believed. Though he had been left terribly weakened by his fall from the Bifrost, his magic was slowly returning to him, and he discovered that he was able to call upon his ability to cloak himself in shadow, hiding from her sight. A smirk tugged at his lips as she sat up, rubbing the stiffness out of her shoulders. She had that tell-tale line between her brows, that slight blush of color on her cheeks. She had been thinking about him. The little dear did that quite often, he noticed, usually excusing herself from the room in an attempt to hide her obvious reaction. She was a sweet, innocent thing, without a single immoral bone in her body, but he could tell that even she had impure thoughts. You want me so bad it pains you, doesn't it? He thought back to how she always stared at him when she thought he wasn't watching, how she would brush against his arm or leg as if on accident, how she constantly fidgeted with her hair or clothing when he was around her. Your desperation for attention is completely intoxicating. I can tell that I'm going to enjoy this.
With a flick of his wrist, he dispersed the cloaking spell and went swiftly to the bathroom, sniffing delicately at the clouds of fragrant steam that rose from under the door. Whatever potions Midgardian women used to clean themselves, it always smelled so enchanting. He tested the handle, found it locked, and popped the latch with a wisp of shimmery magic, entering the room as silently as mist. She was singing softly to herself, as she often did when she thought he couldn't hear. The song was slow, somewhat sad, soothing enough to be a lullaby- "Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey. Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul." He smiled, pausing to enjoy the sweet, clear tone of her voice. Perhaps, if he ever returned to Asgard and took his rightful place on the throne, he could bring her back with him, his own personal little songbird.
As she reached the bridge-"For they could not love you, but still your love was true,"-golden bands of light surrounded him, completely covering him. As they dissolved into the air, they took his clothing with them, leaving him completely bare. Still moving soundlessly, he slid the curtain aside and stepped into the shower behind her. She stood with her hands pressed against the wall beneath the showerhead, eyes closed as the water cascaded onto her head and the back of her neck. Clear rivulets ran down her smooth, fragile back and the full, gentle curve of her bottom, instantly making him ache. She looked simply mouthwatering like this, and he couldn't restrain himself any longer. Slowly, he stepped forward and ran one long, slender hand down her spine, almost groaning at how deliciously warm her skin was.
She jumped at his gentle touch and yelped, wedging herself in the far corner and trying to cover herself with her hands. "Oh my God, are you crazy?! Get out!"
"Why? Do you have an objection to being seen like this?" He couldn't help but smirk at her predictably human reaction. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"Exceedingly so! Get the hell out!"
"I don't think so." He stepped closer to her, noticing with amusement how her feet scrabbled against the slippery shower floor, as if trying to push herself into the wall and out of his sight. "You shouldn't be embarrassed, little one." He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you afraid I'll find you repugnant?" The prince noticed that she was trembling, and he gently slid his hand around to cup her cheek, bringing her face up so he could look at her. He cocked an eyebrow, knowing that her silence was an affirmation, but still wanting to hear her say it. "Answer me."
She found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his. "…Yes."
He smiled gently. "Not so, my dear." His long fingers encircled her wrists, pulling her hands away from her body and baring it completely to his gaze. "You are delicious. Ravishing, divine, and fit for a king."
He could see in her eyes that she didn't believe him, didn't want to believe him. No matter. He would prove it to her one way or another. Loki tried to wind his arms around her waist, to pull her close, but she twisted away, pushing his arms off of her while still pointedly avoiding looking at his naked form. "No…stop it. Th-This isn't right."
He laughed softly, but stopped trying to hold her. However, instead of drawing her close, he slammed his hands on either side of her head and pressed his body against her, baring his teeth in pleasure at the way she bit her lips to stifle a moan. "Your feeble attempts at protest amuse me. Drop your misconceptions of good and evil and let yourself fall into my world of infinite magic."
She gasped; she had never been this close to a man, clothed or otherwise. "Magic…?"
"Surely you realize that I am more than what I appear?" To illustrate his point, he conjured a flower into the palm of his hand; an Asgardian blossom whose beauty was unrivaled in all of the Nine Realms. The poor thing yelped a bit, staring at him with awe and fear. "That I am exactly what I claim to be?"
She shook her head slowly; despite the miracle she had just witnessed, she still couldn't accept that he was who he said he was. The Trickster. The Deceiver. Silvertongue. "Oh my God…"
"You see? You cannot deny me, little darling." He slid his hand from the wall and down her throat, relishing the shiver that passed through her. "You cannot deny how I affect you." With that, he curled one finger under her chin and tilted her face up just enough for him to press his lips against hers. They were soft, full, and incredibly sweet. She whimpered slightly, her hands curling into fists against the tile, wanting to wrap her arms around his neck but not wanting to appear that she had been craving this for weeks. Loki, however, could see right through her. She desired him, longed for him to touch her, to kiss her, to give her the pleasure that no one else had. He knew she was untouched; the hints were subtle, but there nonetheless. After he had taken her, she would want no one but him, could be satisfied by no one else. Just as he willed it.
The dark prince smirked as he changed the angle of his kiss, parting her lips so he could slide his tongue into her mouth. Her whole body tensed, then softened as she felt a not unpleasant shiver. Loki suppressed a laugh as he heard her nails scrape against the tile, still trying to resist him. He stroked her cheek, his hand sliding down her drenched skin until he cupped her breast in the palm of his hand. Try and resist me now, he thought, breaking the kiss as she gasped. "Do you like this, pet? Does it thrill you to be touched this way?" He gently squeezed the firm flesh, one arm sliding around her waist and pulling her close.
She wanted to gasp, to moan, to murmur his name and beg him for more, but she dared not, fearing that she would embarrass herself. Even as she felt his thumb sweep across her hardened nipple, she clenched her jaw and refused to cry out, whimpering in the back of her throat. Loki chuckled, his lips grazing her ear. "I love the little noises you make as you attempt to keep yourself silent." His mouth traveled in a line down her throat, tongue catching droplets of water that rolled across her skin, until she could feel his breath on her chest. "Your hesitance will not last long." With that, he closed his lips around her nipple, simultaneously grinding his hips against hers, pushing himself into the cradle of her thighs.
The young woman shrieked and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to keep from falling. Having little to no experience with relationships, she never had the chance to feel the pleasure she could get from letting another indulge in her body, and she was not entirely surprised to find that she liked it. Her back arched, her legs shaking as his hardness pressed against her in ways that sent sparks shooting up her spine. It scared her, being this close to another person. She had lived in almost isolation for a long time, and physical contact was rare. Then he had shown up…and turned everything she thought she knew on its head.
He used the apex of his tongue to paint circles around the sensitive bud, scraping his teeth against her flesh so gently that she barely felt it. There was the barest trace of sweetness to her skin, and he wondered why it had taken him this long to let himself sample her flavor. He kissed his way over to the other breast, his tongue repeating its sinuous dance. She moaned silkily, not realizing how she enflamed his hunger for her by bucking her hips against his, begging silently for more.
The prince withdrew his mouth from her, straightening to his full height so that he towered over her, leaning forward until she was pressed back against the wall. "You taste good, my little Midgardian." She blushed sweetly, and he laughed, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Do I embarrass you?"
The girl swallowed, trying to find her voice. "Ah…kind of…"
"Oh, little innocent…I have barely begun." One hand slipped slowly down her skin, sliding between her breasts, down the plane of her belly, and over her hips. She knew what he was planning, knew where his long, slender fingers were headed, but she was not expecting that sudden jolt of pleasure as his hand slid between her legs. Her back arched almost painfully, her breasts crushed against his chest as his fingertips sought out that little button of flesh buried within her folds. Loki bared his teeth, his eyes half-lidded with desire as he watched her start to come apart at his touch. The triumph of conquest rushed through his veins, adding fuel to the flames of his desire. He would take her to bed once the cooling water drove them out of the shower, but first, he would make her scream, make her writhe against the wall.
"I adore your sensitivity, little one. You're so much fun to play with." He smirked and bent to brush his lips against her throat, dragging his tongue up the damp skin.
She squirmed against him, pushing her hips into the heel of his hand. She wanted more than just his touch, wanted to feel more of him. The girl didn't know where this ache had come from; she'd certainly never felt it before. But now that he was standing here with her, amidst the heat and steam of the shower with his hand between her legs, all the sexual energy she'd repressed for ages was bursting forth like water from a broken dam.
Sensing her yearning for more than just a gentle caress, he slid his fingers down into her core, curving them against her, finding that pool of wetness and slipping one digit slowly inside. She whined out his name, raking her nails down his back almost without thinking. Once she heard his hiss of pain, she realized what she'd done. "Oh God, I'm sorry-"
Her apology was cut off by his deep, lustful kiss. He relished the sting of her nails, delighted in the feel of her placing a mark on him, claiming him, just as he did to her. His finger moved within her, massaging and stroking her inner walls, his eyes focused unwaveringly on her as she melted against him. Finally, he felt the tell-all tense of her muscles, knowing her to be close to her first orgasm. To his annoyance, she turned her head away, closing her eyes. The prince gripped her chin and turned her face back to his, leaning down so that their lips were only inches apart. "No, open your eyes. I want to see it when you come undone against me, feel your body clench around mine while you look into my eyes and know that you are forever mine."
She did as he bid her, opening her jewel-bright eyes and locking them with his, the two pairs like windows which aligned to display souls that dazzled like constellations on a clear winter night. As she stared into him, his eyes devouring her, her body obeyed the gentle urging of his fingers. She forced herself not to close her eyes as she screamed out his name, pleasure exploding in her with the force of a thousand bullets, sweetly racing through her veins and erasing everything that had ever troubled her, at least for the moment.
As she coasted down, Loki withdrew his fingers and reached around her to shut off the water. "I think it's time now, darling, to show you the true passion of a king." He gathered her in his arms, knowing that her powerful orgasm would leave her too shaken to walk on her own. "Your bedroom is the next door down, correct?"
She nodded breathlessly, allowing herself to surrender to his will. After all…who was she to refuse a god?
Having a 3,000 word limit sucks. The parts that are underlined are the whispers I used; I'd post links, but I don't think will let me. Again, let me know what you think, please! I'm desperate for feedback! Cheers!
Also: the song she's singing is "Vincent (Starry Starry Night)." I heartily advise looking it up, it's a beautiful song. :)
