Dream A Little Dream Of Me
It was a dream.
He knew it was a dream. Which was why he was a little irritated on the inside that it was not real.
That your being- alluring in the afternoon sun with the purest smile on your face as you watched him with your head supported by your palms- lay on your stomach in his bed over the mess of sheets.
He was trying to be enraged at the thought of your smell- a hint of citrus with soothing sweet floral tones- not being real. But the sensation of breathing you in seemed too real. How?!
"Loki?" You tilted your head in question, your eyes looking at him, calling him to you. Why you are worse than witches! He stirred at your voice, leaning closer to you, hesitant in bringing himself forward for he might come too close to the sun and make himself blind; to force you to disappear; to break this fantasy if he did something you didn't like.
And yet, you stayed there, turning onto your stomach as he shifted on his elbow to come and let his face hover over yours.
Ah, Valhalla! Even his home did not shine with such allure in the light of the stars as did your eyes. The flowers in the royal garden didn't have as much grace and lusciousness as your lips. No touch-me-not had the sensitivity to his touch as you- when his fingers brushed off those mischievous strands of your hair which tried to hide you from his gaze.
Your skin smooth, shuddering with a delicious shiver under his touch seemed to crave more of him, your hand moving those silky raven strands away so you could see the sun hit his smaragdines- a brilliant pool of green in an ocean that had seen lifetimes and yet this was the one that mattered. The only one that mattered.
The shiver and sparkles than ran through him on the touch of your fingers as they traced a path behind his ears and down his neck were new. New as a newborn phoenix, rising from the ashes, purified by a wave that went through and through by your touch; something he would wonder when his head was clear and his eyes away from you- how strong an influence you had on him.
So, like a thirsty nomad lost in the desert who had just tasted the sweet waters- your knowing touch- now wanted more.
So. Much. More.
The back of his fingers stroked your cheek, going down your jaw, feeling strings break into a tune when he watched you smile and close your eyes.
She trusts me.
It was almost brought a painful sting in his chest. Sweet sweet pain. He both hated and loved that he could read you; that you wanted to be read. And he wanted to test the waters with you.
At first, it was a stroke of his fingers on your lips, his eyes hovering over them, asking for permission. You seemed like you knew what he wanted, for your hands snaked his neck, bringing him closer to you, letting his lips land on yours.
It was a mutual trust affair- where the eyes closed to look at the personal galaxies inside them light up with the touch and taste that had been craved for so long. The breaths paused to savour the moment of those entirely different universes colliding at the touch of tongues, the intermingling of fingers, hungry brush of the bodies against one another.
Once the sway was started, the dance began on its own. With his leg parting your thighs, you felt your body rise to come by the doors of Valhalla, your core brushing against his thigh, asking for more.
You both have decided to lift the anchor and go out with the first tide that has risen from the ocean of endless mystery of love for the other. Still, he tried to part from you- almost making you rise for more of those tender yet demanding lips- to let him take you in.
His accelerated heartbeat wanted to make sure it was you. And when he looked at you, the unquestionable truth seemed like the strokes of paint in his grey life finally making sense.
For him, you were the human form of peace. His peace. All his meandering thoughts were at a standstill in your vicinity. All doubts were washed away by the glow you brought in the room. All worries seemed microscopic when you were with him.
You were what love was supposed to look like.
And love, you are. My love. All. Mine.
The lips came back, this time tasting you with the feeling of belonging with you. For you.
Hands roamed over the breathy cotton you wore- memorising the map to the temple he was going to pray to for the rest of his life- till they found the end, letting the fingers find the skin they were lucky to adorn, forcing a welcoming gasp out of you. The fingers rose farther up the thigh, teasing and massaging your needy skin till they reached your folds.
"Loki," your lips moaned in his ears, sending a strong flutter slithering down his entirety right when he felt his eyes open to the daylight entering his room in the Avengers facility, leaving him numb for the next minute as he questioned what had just happened.
A dream. He cursed internally, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to break the veil of slumber resting over his trance-filled eyes.
The morning sun directly hit his face and bare chest, making him groan and turn the other to find himself facing your face resting on your fist as you lay beside him
"Hi."
The soft morning greeting sent him flying back and down, his ass landing on the cold hard floor- forcing a curse-filled groan out of him.
"Ooh-" he heard the sound of second-hand embarrassment come out of you before he saw your face peep from over the bed to whisper- "sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"What the Hel are you doing in my room?" He tried to sound pissed but the dream still fresh inside his mind was making it difficult to look at you, let alone be mad at you.
He tried to get up, realising all that covered him was the sheet he was currently wrapped in. Carefully keeping it tangled all around him, he stood up, making sure it had no way to escape. Though he did make the mistake of looking back at you lying on your stomach, the light hitting just like it did in his dream.
Oh, come on! He begged his neurons to stop. They only grew more sensitive when you bit your lip and raised your legs behind you, swinging them without a care in the world.
"You told me to wake you up to embarrass you in front of everyone if Scott woke up at five for the camping trip," you answered and tilted your head just a little, resting it in your palms.
"Stop," he said under his breath with his eyes closed. It was not only the issue of the sheet wrapped around him. It was also about what it was trying to hide.
"Oh, I'm not gonna stop," you spoke softly, giving him a smirk as he looked down at you from under his lashes, "not until you give me those fifty dollars you owe me."
He lowered his head where he stood to get a good look at you and give you one that screamed a huge 'really?' in a neon sign. "Do I look like I have fifty dollars on me?" He tried to open one arm to gesture at himself before quickly grabbing the side of the sheet that had started to slip.
Your legs kept swinging, your eyes slowly swirling with some intentions that seemed dark. "Hmm...I think another fifteen minutes like this would be worth those fifty dollars."
Loki gasped at your audacity, his outside showing he had been utterly offended. His insides, on the other hand, were celebrating the big bang.
"I think you should go."
Go before something inside me stops you and pins you right here.
"Why?" You asked while turning on your back, your head now looking at him upside down. "Having boy problems?" You winked and chuckled.
Oh, you crazy little minx, you.
"Y/N," his inside growled slightly.
"Okay, okay," you snickered, getting up facing the other side, letting his gaze catch your bare shoulders supporting your tank top, memorising those freckles, spots, and moles marring your skin. "Damn, must have been one sexy dream you were having."
Oh, only if you knew, he smirked internally before questioning if you'd find it inappropriate. Him dreaming of you this way, that is.
You walked till the door, stepping out, pausing, turning back to smile at him.
"I wonder who’s this person who's got you all-" you let your eyes go down his chest till you were made him conscious of the boner he was trying to hide- "hot and bothered."
His gaping lips closed and his brows arched at you.
"They really seem to have done a number on you, Loki," you called out as you walked away into the corridor.
He sighed and rolled his eyes before finding himself chuckling to himself.
Only if you knew, darling.
"Hey, you owe me fifty." He heard Scott's voice call out from the door. And there was Scott with puffy, sleep-deprived eyes and a huge smile on that goofy face that was all geared up for the trip.
"Oh sweet Val- DO I LOOK I HAVE MON-"