lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

“There is nothing,” he kissed a line down her neck, “I would rather do.”  Laying back, he pulled her on top of him and deftly undid her pants, sliding them down and away.  Careful hands pulled back up over her, again and again, pressing her harder against him.  ”There is nothing about you that isn’t beautiful,” his fingers memorized the feel of every angle of her.  He strained painfully against his pants, and a small whimper escaped his lips.

Half-balanced on Loki, Summer laid her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it raced higher. His tiny whimper made her smile, sliding hands under cloth to shape the lean muscles of him with her fingertips. A little flexion, a little push had her sitting up over him, looking down with a possessive smile.

One hand lay lightly over his navel, stroking downward with the barest pressure. “Details, Loki. Seduce me with your words.”

His breath drew in sharply but he steadied himself.  ”Oh, is that what you want?  My Summer, so…forceful.  I like this.” He pressed his hand over hers and moved it down over him, meeting her eyes with a narrowed gaze.  ”What shall I do with you then?  Whisper all my secret longings?  How I have dreamed of those fire eyes and the heat of your touch?” He leaned up into her.  ”How no one has ever bewitched me so quickly?  Shall I tell you of your strength, courage, ferocity?  No, you must already know all of this.”  He pulled her down close again.  ”But I suppose it cannot be said enough.”  Lips met eager lips.

Freeing her hands from his, Summer slipped them back under his tunic, sliding them up and taking the fabric with her, until she either had to wait or break away from the kiss. Tugging on the hem, she lifted her head a touch to smile into his eyes. “You tell me things I wish to believe, but in my secret heart, I know better. Make me believe, Loki. And take this off. I need to touch you.”

The tunic was off before a second had passed.

“So hungry for my words, my dear.  I tire of them.”  He dragged her fingers down his chest and lay his head back.  ”Touch me and you will need no words.”

Skin and scars lay revealed to her gaze, and Summer took her time over them, tracing lines and ridges with careful fingertips, kissing each mark of pain, drawing her nails down in soft lines. Into his breastbone she whispered, “Emotions are blurred, strange, sliding one into the other without pause. You wished to recant them, just a short while ago, and now you want me in your heart, searching? Make up your mind, ice-king.” She teased her teeth along his nipple, trying to render him speechless.

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

She let him pull her in, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her cheek to his chest. “Oh, Loki. Look at us. Both so convinced we’re worthless people, so confused by others caring.” Closing her eyes, she kept projecting, pouring her sympathy and caring and desire for this wounded, struggling man out.

“Look at us both,” he repeated, nodding into her hair.  ”Imagine what we could accomplish if we were without sentiment.”

It was something he had tried to achieve, but almost had to admit he could not.  Yet here was a creature whose existence revolved around emotion.  How tiring her life must be.  He was exhausted already.

Summer thwacked his back lightly. “You’d be dead, because I wouldn’t have this power. I’ve known people who tried to cut off their emotions, and it didn’t end well for them.” Leaning back enough to look him in the face, she went on, “Loki … I can’t speak for you. But I told you once already, they tried to … mute me. And it was awful.”

“I can’t imagine how.  Look how much pain this causes you.  I see what you have to endure, just to be near someone.  And you say it hurt to be without feeling?”

He shook his head and paced around the room.  This woman was turning his brain to mush.

Her mouth twisted. “Imagine if someone took your magic from you.” Folding her arms, Summer regarded Loki. “That is how essential it is to me to feel. In this pain, I know I am alive.” She couldn’t help but frown, dark brows drawing together over green eyes. “Why is this so important to you? To push away emotion. Sentiment.”

“Alive…” he tasted the word as he stopped to look out the window again.  Always that need to see a way out.  ”I do not feel it unless I know power.  Perhaps because of the lack of it all my life until…recently.” His gaze rested momentarily on the remains of the bifrost out the window.  ”I care not.  But sentiment will never satisfy.”

He turned then and fixed his eyes on hers intensely.  

“Do you not understand what feeling does to a man like me?  How distracting…it is a weakness.  I have tasted weakness, Summer.  I do not intend to again.”  He wildly hoped she could not see the feeling that stirred inside him even then, but of course she did.  She always would.  Maybe she would at least have the decency not to point it out.

Summer’s mouth quirked downward. “You see me as weak.” Blindly, she walked backward until the edge of the bed hit the backs of her knees. She crumpled onto it. “Something to be used.” Without really being aware of it, the hurt she was feeling slid into the projection.

“Like your brother.”

Why did it even matter, she asked herself. This was Loki, who destroyed, who killed, raped minds. There was probably no saving him. And even if there was, it was stupid to delude herself into thinking she could do it.

It took every ounce of control Summer had ever learned in thirty-some-odd years to stand up again, to pull her jeans on, and walk toward the door, without allowing the tears in her eyes to spill down her face. She couldn’t find it in her to unlock the tight muscles around her mouth, but her spine was straight and her head high.