If it weren't for the fact that not only your car, but your phone died, then you wouldn't be in this situation.
Payphones had vanished when cell phones came to fruition and you knew that no one would be on the streets during a terrible blizzard. Since you knew the area well though, you knew that the police station was just a few blocks away. Despite the fact that you were shivering terribly you knew you had to get there. Once at the station you could tell them your situation and chances were they would help you in a heartbeat. All you had to do was walk down Marigold Ave, Sycamore Street, and make a right onto Cypress Road.
This was a very wealthy section of the town and while you drove through here on your way to work, you never took the time to stop and glance at these magnificent monoliths of townhouses. Balconies were eyelashes to closed windows that hid their contents behind draperies. Even the doors seemed like elegant mouths dolled up in the glisten of lipstick and lip gloss. All flaunted themselves in pastel shades of powder blue, orange creamsicle, peridot, sunlight, and many other shades. Their gentle hues were dulled by the layers of ivory skirting their window panes and building up on their small lawns. A rush of snow and cold harshness slapped you, snapping you back into reality. Trekking deeper into the snow, you wished people had left their lights on for you to see in the dark.
Passing by a rather large townhouse in the center of the block, you felt the estate staring at you like an unwanted mouse in a fancy dining hall. Turning on your heel, you glanced back at the residence and wondered how anyone could afford such a grand home. Soft blue walls surrounded ivory window panes and a pristine balcony, now covered in snow. You laughed to yourself knowing that whoever lived there would have to contend with that messy pileup the next day. Your laughter was cut off by a light that illuminated the snowy walk way that led up to the townhouse which was dotted with what seemed like fresh footprints. A black figure on the porch opened his door as you wondered if the person would let you use their phone. Yet knowing how snobby the wealthy were in this neighborhood you sighed to yourself and continued onward.
"Hey! Are you all right," a soft voice called from an illuminated doorstep. Looking up you saw the dark figure had opened his door as light poured onto the snow. From what you could tell he was clad in a peacoat and a rather expensive suit.
"Come on in! Please, it's too cold out there. I'm not sure where you're heading, but you can stay here until it dies down."
Your mother always said to never trust strangers and yet this man had seemed so familiar to you. His voice was melodic and soft like an orchestra composed of nothing, but woodwind pieces. You swore you heard his voice before, but you weren't sure where. The light from his foyer merged with the outdoor light, blotting out his face, but brightening his leather gloved hand that extended to you. Knowing you needed shelter and a phone from this terrible weather and your situation, you slowly walked through the snow covered walkway. Following the footsteps already laid in the white wonder, you reached for his hand as he helped you up his miniature stairway. Slipping on the second step, you cursed the ice hidden beneath the snow as he quickly caught you.
"Are you all right?" His worried tones registered in your mind as you nodded once more.
A breath of relief escaped his lanky frame as he slowly pulled you up onto the lit stone porch. His body radiated the smell of something crisp, like an autumn day spiced with aromatic cider. It was warm and inviting as you felt heat weave its way into your cheeks and shade them red.
Looking up from his chest you felt your heart drop to the ground as though you were holding glass. Your chest hitched, forgetting to breathe at the sight of the person before you. Every single thought that passed through your brain halted at this person's pristine blue eyes that tore their way into your soul and made a home there for you to always remember them. All the words that you knew escape your throat in a silent sweep of erasure as you couldn't help your jaw from dropping. By now your spine was as rigid as an icicle, knowing you couldn't move an inch and something inside you didn't want you to. Locked in this man's warm arms and against his chest, you didn't realize your gloved hands gently clung to his forearms. Through the sensation of shock and your still heart, only one thought managed to croak from your brain:
Holy shit on a stick it was Tom Hiddleston.
"Why my dear," Tom spoke again, your heart pounding loudly to remind you that you weren't dreaming.
"You look as though you've seen a ghost."
He smiled knowingly, that you weren't expecting such a surprise on a cold Winter's night. He also knew the effect he had on everyone, how a mere glance of his eyes and a simple smile could turn everyone into puddles of admiration. To it all he was grateful to have such wonderful people that praised his works and adored him. No doubt that you idolized him like a God and watched every single interview, every role he performed, and every clip Youtube had to offer. You were smitten with this man and not even your now pounding heart could deny that.
"I-I'm okay," you managed to choke out as he laughed softly and helped you inside.
Behind the closed door, a staircase divided the house into two. To the left, was a rather nice dining area and to the right was a luxurious living room, complete with a fireplace and wall to wall shelves filled with books. What lied upstairs caused your brain to produce images of you riding Tom like a bareback horse on his silk sheets or him going do – cursing your mind, you turned even redder and quickly buried your face in your hands. Looking over, Tom smiled to himself and hung removed his jacket. Silence filled the residence as you hoped your pounding heart that rang through your ears, somehow didn't interrupt the tranquility of his home. Slowly removing your jacket and boots as you admired the place, you could hear Tom hurriedly adjusting things to make you more comfortable. You placed your boots next to his' by the front door and in a way, it made you smile. To think for one night you would play house with a man you dreamed of; people would kill to be in your position right now and you did nothing more than smile like an overly excited child while ridiculously blushing.
"Please," he started, striding into the living room.
"Make yourself at home. I'll get the fire going to warm us up and if you'd like, I'll make us some tea."
Hot tea sounded lovely, especially to warm your shivering bones. Watching him roll up his ivory sleeves turned you on in some fashion as you attempted to blot out any ideas. You were merely here until the storm died down and to possibly use his phone. There would be no sexy shenanigans, no flirting, nothing of that nature. After all, he was a celebrity and you were just a typical person with a job on the edge of town. He probably went after women who ate gold caviar on a daily basis and were driven around in their Porsches by chauffeurs. You just happened to be a lucky soul who was stranded in a snowstorm and was walking by his home. Knowing his generosity and how he felt towards his fans, he played your knight in shining armor. Yet the mere idea of that happening, especially to you, made you grin even more and blush.
Watching him roam off to the kitchen, you placed your gloves and coat by the warmth of the fire, hoping they would dry. Curiosity tempted your frame as you slowly examined the books on the shelves. Most of them were fiction pieces written by classic writers; Lord Byron, Emily Dickinson, and of course, Shakespeare. You knew in your heart of hearts the man loved Shakespeare more than life itself. Smiling, you traced your finger along a weathered emerald book with 'Hamlet' written in gold. Of all the times you analyzed the book to death in high school, you desperately tried to remember every symbolic aspect of the piece just so you could strike up a conversation with Tom. You weren't one for Shakespeare, though you could tolerate the bard at best.
A soft clink of porcelain made you turn your head as Tom entered the den with a tray and tea set. Smiling softly, you could smell the tea as its smoke curled out from the spout like a garden snake and spread throughout the room.
"I hope you like black tea," he spoke eagerly.
"It's best for the winter, it warms you up."
Placing the set on the mahogany table, his hand gestured to an empty leather chair by the fire. Taking the seat, he occupied the corner of his couch and adjusted the tea to his liking as you did the same. You were delicate in your actions, worried you would shatter one of his porcelain pieces with the spoon. Gold merged with indigo, trimming each part of the set and flaunting elegant filigrees adorned with leaves. Taking the cup gently into your hands, you took a sip and smiled as you felt the drink warm your bones and soul.
"Thank you," you spoke, having calmed down some although the excitement of sharing tea with Tom Hiddleston stunned your mind.
"Shut it."
Those two words that echoed from Tom's voice reverberated throughout the den in a harshness that matched the Winter wind. His voice had changed into a lethal silence that cut through you like a knife and nearly made you drop the cup. Quickly grabbing it and setting it back on the silver platter, you watched with horror as Tom sipped his tea nonchalantly, as though his words didn't bother him.
"I'm…I'm sorry?" You squeaked.
"Shut it, you mewling quim."
Your eyes widened with terror; this wasn't the man that you idolized or remembered from the interviews. This wasn't the kind soul who took you in, feeling bad for you, and tried to keep you safe from the blustery blizzard. Slowly rising from your chair, you rushed to the front door. You had to escape, you had to run as far away as you could no matter how slow the snow would make you. Silently cursing yourself, you should have listened to your mother; never trust strangers, no matter how kind they may seem.
"Don't bother to leave," his abrupt, harsh tone filled the den as he waved his hand. The click of the lock resounded throughout the entire house, signaling that you were stuck with the monster for the night.
Your spine was rigid as you suddenly gained an edge and knew you had to, in some way or another, get out of the house. Eyes darting about the foyer, you needed something to defend yourself from the man in the den, and aid you with your escape. To your relief you found an umbrella; which on a normal basis would seem completely harmless, but if you could strike him with a few good blows you could distract him from throwing tea on his gorgeous face. The thought of harming Tom Hiddleston shattered your heart and broke your mind as it made you question what type of person you were. It didn't matter now, he had tricked you into his home with no means of leaving, and you were not all right with that.
Gripping the umbrella firmly in your hands, you darted into the living room. Your quickening footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor which, strangely, didn't seem to bother him. Ignoring that, you brought the makeshift weapon over your head, ready to strike him with everything in your being – then he flashed those eyes at you. Those pristine, soul fucking eyes that tore through you like an endless car collision, made you grit your teeth and stop moving. It was as though he had cast some spell on you as he quietly finished his tea with one hand. Raising his other hand, he flung the umbrella from your grasp as it flew across the room. Hands over your head free of the umbrella, shock consumed you like a whale swallowing a boat. Watching you with bored eyes, he sighed.
"You still don't get it, do you?"
You slowly shook your head.
"I'm not Tom."
A flash of green light danced before your eyes and replacing the gentleness of Tom Hiddleston was Loki, the God of Mischief. You took a sudden intake of breath, eyes widened making Loki grin. Still clad in the rolled up ivory shirt and snug suit pants, he was a glorious sight to behold. His slicked back hair and devious eyes wormed their way into your heart and devoured any malice you had towards Tom Hiddleston. Despite the dancing fire behind him, his skin retained its paleness as though he rolled around in the snow for hours. Laughing at your stunned expression, his teeth glistened among the fire light sending all sorts of chills down your rigid spine.
"Lower your arms, you look like an idiot."
Doing as he commanded, you struggled to find something to say, uncertain of the situation at hand.
"Tom is in Canada filming Crimson Peak. But you as a fan should have known that. Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Rising before you, he seemed much taller now. Then again, his Bifrost genetics gave him that advantage, and you knew what they said about tall me – 'GODDAMNIT NOT NOW', you told yourself. Yet the temptation was too much to resist as your cheeks burned furiously and you bowed your head. Here you were, stranded alone in what was supposedly Tom Hiddleston's townhouse, with the handsome Norse God of Mischief grinning at you like a snake who found a mouse. How could you not think of what he would do to you? Or what you wanted him to do to you?
"Oh I know exactly what you're thinking," his smooth, snake like voice slithered its way into your ears.
Laughing to himself, he casually made his way around the couch. Your eyes watched him with every move he made as your breath hitched with every step. Swallowing hard, you weren't sure whether to run or let him do as he pleased, but regardless, you found yourself unable to move. Had he placed another spell on you while you were stunned? Or was it your very instinct and need telling you to stay there and let him slowly approach you, like a lion cornering its prey? Within moments, you felt his hot breath on your neck and from it caused your heart to beat as though it would explode.
"Breathe," he whispered seductively into your ear and you obeyed his command. Breathing never felt so good and you suddenly thanked God for giving you lungs.
"I can't have my prey dead," he continued and pulled away from your nape, making you bite your lower lip hard. His cold, pale fingers slid along your jawline, forcing you to swallow a small moan as he smirked, knowing what he was making you do and how you squirmed beneath your sweater and jeans.
As he placed his lips close to yours, you released the bite on your lip, as though expecting a kiss from him. Instead he smirked and snickered softly, whispering against your winter chapped lips.
"You will do everything I tell you to. Is that understood?"
Nodding your head, your heart pumped wildly, almost scared and uncertain of what was to come.
"Good pet."
Pressing his lips to yours, you were thrown off by the sudden abruptness of his kiss, but did not deny him of his pleasure. Pinning you to the back of the couch, he gyrated his abdomen into yours as you moaned in want. Slowly your fingers rose, tracing the curves of his hips and elbows, working their way up to his hair. Your fingers parted the strands, feeling down to his very scalp and pressing your chest tightly to his. You felt his soft moans against your lips as they enticed you to go forward and explore him.
It had been a while since Loki had done anything. Often he would use Tom's townhouse as a way of luring anyone (much like yourself) inside, to where he would use the genuine charm of Tom to lure people into a false sense of security. From there, he would play the role as the kindly knight and strike when the moment seemed right. Tom hadn't known this and never would, nor would he tell any of his victims.
Unbuttoning his shirt, you slid the fabric from his lithe frame as you felt his skin beneath your hands. So cold, his Bifrost blood was probably the result of that, but it didn't matter to you; you were cold too and figured the both of you wouldn't mind warming up. Fingertips ran over his nipples and down his sides, examining every inch of him as he groaned. Tearing your sweater from your body, the Norse God traced his fingers around every curve of your chest. Growling in need of his touch, you pressed your chest to his hands as he smirked to himself, and traced your nipples with his index finger.
It was amazing how a touch could easily bring a person to their knees. Loki knew this and wasn't afraid to tease and please, not only to live up to his mischievous nature, but to see you writhe like the weak human that you were. It was a sick pleasure that made his heart pound relentlessly, like the drums of war. Running your hands along the top of his pants, you slowly undid his belt, causing him to grip your wrists as though you had done something wrong.
"So eager," he whispered seductively against your lips.
"Are you so eager to please your God?"
Nodding quickly, Loki roared with laughter, making your cheeks turn red once more. You could not deny the thoughts in your head, the throbbing against your jeans, or the instinctive primal need of intimacy. Your blood was pounding and ringing through your ears, much like your heart as you no longer cared if Loki heard its vital beat.
Sharply looking at you, breaking from his laughter you bit your lower lip and felt your body tremble. His touch on your wrists ceased as he kissed you deeply, distracting you from sliding his fingers into your jeans. Biting hard on his lip, you didn't expect the feeling of him teasing the outer lips of your area as you groaned loud and long into his flesh. Groaning in return at your sudden bite, Loki slowed his stroking as you pulled your lips from his, tossing your head back and moaning longingly. Gripping the back of the couch, you swore that the deity was trying to drive you into insanity and you welcomed every step to losing your mind.
Your knees buckled, making him grin with delight. Such a weak little human and he knew how to press all those buttons. With your nipples erect and your guard completely shattered, he leaned in and bit down on your tender flesh. Gasping in surprise, you did your best to retain your balance, but you found yourself steadily growing weaker. You knew he had you where he wanted you and you could not escape, nor did you want to. Between his tongue rolling around your nipple and his fingers stroking your entrance, you knew you could die now and be content.
Smirking to himself, Loki could feel his fingers become wet with your juices as he pulled back. His lips leaving your breasts slowly, licking your hardened nipples and making you groan. Loki ran a hand down your back, his nails digging deep into your skin and leaving marks that would last for at least a few days. You didn't care, even as he jerked you forward and you locked eyes with him. His sexily stern pupils were dilated and locked with your hazy lusty eyes. Remembering to breathe, you could feel the ominous yet alluring stare of Loki examining your figure. You wondered about the thoughts running throughout his head, questioning what parts he would taste or touch next as the anticipation began to kill you. You needed him and you needed him now, yet you were completely powerless to his rule in the act of intercourse.
Breaking from you, he sighed to himself.
"It's a shame, I don't have my throne here. Though I suppose this will have to do," sitting in the armchair by the fire, Loki rolled his head towards you as his eyes flashed a 'come hither' stare.
Obeying those luscious eyes, you immediately stood before your sex God who smirked.
"Kneel before me, you mewling quim."
That harsh tone returned and this time, you found it lethally addictive. You weren't scared of the Norse God and knelt before him. Hurriedly undoing his zipper, he parted his legs to reveal his glorious purpose. Eyes widened, you blushed madly at the length of his dick. Of all the fanfictions and porn you had encountered, nothing compared to this. This was better than fanart and your pitiful attempts at drawing anything scandalous. It was all here before you and waiting to be touched. You licked your lips, completely enticed by him and knew you needed it just as he needed you.
"I believe you know what to do," he spoke curtly and smirked slyly, expecting you to bury your face into his cock like some needy peasant.
Instead, he watched as your tongue slowly swirled the tip and instantly knew you were playing the game. What a clever little minx you were as you ran your tongue along the shaft, making his nerves come alive and tremble. Engulfing the tip with your mouth, you sucked on the sensitive flesh as he groaned in need. Teasing him, you paid attention to this soft part as your fingers traced his inner thigh and made him buck his hips. You threw him off guard which made you mentally grin, satisfied with yourself. Your fingertips proceeded to reach down and softly stroke his ballsack which made him mewl loudly. Who was the mewling quim now? You laughed inside your mind. Bit by bit, you took him between your lips as his mewls grew louder with every advancement. You continued to one handedly massage his balls as he you heard him crying out for more and groaning in desperate want.
At one point the very Norse God himself couldn't handle the pleasure you were giving him as he gripped your shoulders and yanked you from his dick. Locking your eyes with him once more, it was now you who had those sexy intense eyes and he who had those lust ridden eyes. Smirking to yourself, he growled in need.
"You think you're satisfied with yourself," Loki's voice cut through the air.
"I'd say so, yes," you retorted without fear, making him grin.
"On your knees once more, my minx, and remove those damn garments" his smooth voice seemed to guide your actions as you quickly took off your jeans and knelt before the fireplace.
The only sounds within the room were your beating heart and his footsteps that pattered across the hardwood floor. Without warning you found yourself on all fours and him behind you. Loki laughed in his throat as his finger traced your spine, causing it to rise upon contact and make you moan softly. Slowly inserting his fingers into you, you cried out in need as his fingers stretched your walls, soaked with your juices. Both of you knew you were ready as Loki stroked your walls and rubbed your clit with the tip of his fingers. Throwing your head forward you mewled loudly as the sound echoed throughout the townhouse.
"You," without warning, Loki trust deeply into you, making you scream in need.
"Will," yanking your hair, he pulled back hard and thrust roughly again.
"Beg."
Stopping his hard thrusts, he leaned in, the head pushing hard against your very core as you groaned in need. With his breath against the nape of your neck you found yourself unable to breathe, overwhelmed by the thousands of sensations echoing throughout your body. You wondered how much you could take, how far he would push you to, and possibly break your limits. Something deep inside you wanted him to break your mold, to shatter any limitations you had on yourself to the point where you couldn't move, and you could do nothing else, but lie there as a broken, yet satisfied puddle of flesh.
"Is that clear, my gorgeous whore?"
"Uh-huh," you grunted in frustration and want.
"THEN BEG!"
"LOKI!" You screamed his name, feeling the very tip of his dick penetrating your core, and making you cringe with need.
"Loki, fuck me raw until I can't move!"
"Surely, you can do better than that," he spoke darkly and thrust powerfully, making you scream in pleasure.
"FUCK! LOKI….Loki, you devious Lord, please, please fuck me…"
"Hmmm, that's a little better," his voice raked your back and made your bones shiver in desire.
"Oh King of Asgard," you grinned, knowing that would win him.
"King of Asgard, God of Gods, please dominate me until you fucking cum!"
Without hesitation, Loki pounded your core raw in front of the roaring fire. Every thrust was met with your bucking hips as you felt his dominant presence towering over you from behind. Your body was a flaming frame of fire that was getting warmed up by the Bifrost Lord of Mischief, who showed no mercy in reminding you who was the higher being. Gripping your hips, his nails dug deeply into your skin making you hunger for him even more. You were an insatiable ocean that needed its victim to obtain the ultimate pleasure. Screaming his name, he grinned and thrust even harder.
You couldn't remember the last time you had such a good ride. Come to think of it, this might have been the best ride you were ever given and you refused to think otherwise. The sound of skin to skin seemed to overpower the fire's crackling as you felt your body grow hot with desire and warmth. Every thrust was a temptation to your body to explode into a thousand sparks of fire. You knew you couldn't give in, not just yet; the fun had only begun.
Pumping you, Loki groaned as he felt his cock fill the span between your walls. So thick and you were so wide like the damn Nile and it made him relish in pleasure. His one hand slithered like a snake up your torso, groping your breast and yanking at your nipple, threatening to tear it from your body. Groaning loudly at this, you bucked your hips hard, needing him to continue as though you would die without it all. Toying with your tit made you cum so hard it coated his thick dick as you both moaned loudly at that. The feeling reeled in Loki's head as he held out as long as he could before coming into you deeply. Slowly pulling out of you, Loki watched you slump before him; panting like some beast on the run from a hunt. Laughing to himself, he had won the game and grinned.
Turning over on your back, the fire's light made Loki seem more glorious than ever. A shimmering orb of lusty fire contained within such a cold fortress. It was tantalizing and it made you smile to know that for one night you had that. Through the flames you watched his pristine eyes come to surface once more, staring into your soul, and carving out a hole that would serve as your memory for this evening. Knowing you wouldn't forget it any time soon, you felt the fire in your body slowly flicker and fade.
"You shall not speak of what has happened here tonight my pet," Loki spoke in a lethal voice as chills ran down your back.
"Is that understood?"
"Yes, my Lord," you spoke softly.
"Should I ever hear you broke your word, I will haunt you until your time on this miserable planet has expired."
Nodding quickly, he smiled. Such an obedient little minx you were; Loki liked that. Kissing your forehead, he slipped his pants back on as you did the same. Quickly retrieving a blanket from the couch, he sat in front of the table with the tea set and gestured you to sit in his lap. Doing as he commanded, he wrapped the blanket around you both as you watched the fire. You weren't sure what time it was, nor did you seem to care. Resting your head at the base of his neck, you watched the fire until your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction.