Cleave | Loki x Reader

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1867, Asgard

Loki

Mischief! It's me! Can you hear me?

I toss and I turn. My gaze is fixed on her lips. I'm lost in a daze, longing for the sensation of them flush on mine once more.

You cannot be asleep right now, come on! Loki, listen to me!

Yngri hetja, I'm not asleep, merely entranced by the memory of your kiss, I intended to say.
Perhaps I even did say the words, because in a flash, her skin sears mine and her lips are where I wanted them. But her heat just won't envelop me quite enough. More. I need more.

Loki, just listen!

My tossing and turning has turned ferocious by then, my body yearning to pull her closer, experience her as I experienced her at our frozen pond. Alas, my efforts are in vain.
Her frame blurs, and I reach for her, but she slips painfully from my grasp like violent, violet smoke.

Mischief! Wake up!

My musings abruptly interrupted, a sharp sting now cut across my left cheek. Which was followed by a jolt of pain shooting up my left arm as it collided with the unforgiving stone of my bedroom floor.
With my eyes adjusting steadily to the gloom, I started to scan the room for Y/n.

Of course she wasn't there - these were my private chambers after all; how could she ever be here?
Yet, there she clearly was - there, in my head.

I suppose you're finally awake now? What had you knocked out like that?

I'd meant to respond, Your lips on mine, but ultimately, the words were left unsaid. Instead, I sent something else down the link of our minds.
Did you just mentally slap me awake?

S'ppose I did.

But how in Hel's name did you?!

I thought it, then I did it. Was worth a try.

Silence from her voice in my head followed, at least for the time being, as I was sorting through the irritation inside.
It was supposed to be impossible for her to act inside my head without the touching of our skin...
Amidst my contemplation, the distant shuffling of feet caught my attention as though echoing from another realm.

You're right outside my chambers, aren't you?

Of course I am. How else would I be able to communicate with you, silly?

Greater and more curious things have been achieved tonight, I thought to myself.

Ignoring the shameless insolence she had taken on, and which she had clearly adopted from me, I asked, Couldn't sleep? Pining for me does have that effect on some. Or so I've heard.

Naturally, the answer to her insolence was bound to be met with nothing but an even greater amount of my own. 1-1.

Of course, Mischief, why ever else.

She dragged the "ever" so much that I felt my insides twitch at the way it morphed her voice into something raunchy and... wrong. So utterly wrong. But, oh so good.

I could clearly see her before me: that insidious, sly wink and wicked smile of hers I had grown to adore reshaping her features into that lovely thing meant to be immortalised in marble. And there in the privacy of my chambers, unceremoniously so, I could be found revelling in the warm sensation that exact image had managed to rouse in the pit of my stomach.