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Summary: After ruining the biggest night of your career, Loki ruins you, too.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Dickish Avenger!Loki. Language. Workplace romance. Rough(ish) smut. (w/c 3.1k)
Folds of your expensive black dress swished as you stormed down the corridor of the forty-sixth floor. Everyone was still at the event. Or, The Shitstorm as it would now be known. Shame. Shouting at someone would really help right now.
You tore out the earpiece and slammed it on the nearest desk, shoving a pile of papers off the side for good measure. Laufeyson.
Youâd spent months concocting the perfect debut for that greasy-haired, peacocking, gangly-limbed motherfucker. Did he say âthank youâ? Did he smile and mind his Pâs and Qâs and pose with the New York glitterati like he was supposed to for one night?
Nails sank into the soft flesh of your palm. Course he fucking didnât.
After heâd gone off script during his speech, stating he could fix the woeful state of Earthâs political spectrum in thirty-seven minutes, it had all gone downhill. Insulting politicians, flirting egregiously with their wivesâŠwith their husbands.
The cool glass met your forehead as your rested against the door with your name on it. Director, it said. It didnât feel like it. Fucking Laufeyson. He was unmanageableâjust like his hair. He didnât even comb itâbastard. Youâd specifically requested it.
There was a bottle of whisky hidden in the bookcase behind a doorstop project management manual. You glanced down the empty corridor a final time and slipped inside the dark office, making straight for the bookcase. Pulling out the book concealing your beautiful, impending numbness, you frowned. The bottle wasâ
"Iâm afraid I took the liberty," someone said.
You screamed, lobbing the book in the direction of the voice. It hit the flat, black back of your office chair with a pathetic thump.
The chair swivelled: glacial, infuriating. But you already knew. It was that voice; the one that made it impossible not to imagine him making snide remarks while he fucked you from behind with a fist knotted at your scalp. And besides, you could see the wavy, rumpled crown of his greasy fucking hair over the rim of the chair.
"How did youâŠWhat the hell are you doing in here? This is restrictedâ"
"Restricted?" Laufeyson barked out a weak laugh of reprimand. "Please."
He raised a hand, gaze fixed on the ornate glass of amber liquid cupped in his palm. It had been a present from Stark for your promotion, and the sting of your nails on your palm burned new. "This is really rather good, considering."
"Considering what?"
"That it was produced on this planet." His eyes slid to yours, upper lip twitching as he said, "Another thing to add to its sparse list of accomplishments."
You pulled another book from the shelf and threw it at his face. It missed.
Loki didnât flinch. He just sat there wearing his favourite smirk; one foot resting on his knee and his shadowed eyes glinting with curious observation. Heâd removed the suit jacketâthe one specifically tailored for this eventâin his requested colour, a lush emerald green with gold trim.
Dickhead. Youâd run yourself ragged for his petty demands. And then heâd fucked it all up anyway.
Realising your eyes were lingering on the suspenders stretched against the wall chest muscle, you tore them up to his face and forced coldness into your voice. "I literally left the event to get away from you, before I punched you in the face; you realise that?"
"I do."
You threw up your hands and turned towards the window, arms folded; watching the flash of traffic on the street below like luminous ants. Spotlights flashed across the night sky, crossing and weaving against each other in celebration of the biggest night of the year. "Stark will fire me for what you did."
Lokiâs laugh was accompanied by a splutter of liquid. You shot a glare over your shoulder, catching him press the back of a hand against his mouth and shaking with mirth.
"I think not. Stark cares only for publicityâandâŠ" He extended a hand with a self-congratulatory flourish before resting an elbow on the armrest, brushing a finger to his lips. "He knows what Iâm like," he added with a coy brush of a smile.
Heat exploded beneath your skin.
Before you could think it through you were towering over Loki, a hand spread against his sternum. You pushed against muscle, letting the chair tilt ominously backwards. Lokiâs eyes widened fractionally, dark eyebrows peaking in genuine surprise. "If you've ruined my career I will hunt you down and I willâ"
"Hunt me down?" Loki purred. His eyes dropped to your hand pressed to his chest and rose slowly to your face. "Iâm right here, as you can plainly see. No hunting necessary." His rumble caught on the T. "Being accosted, no less."
You released him with a grunt.
"Couldnât you just behave? This was your big nightâŠyour official launch in the team, your new start. Why couldnât you just be good for once?"
"Good?" Lokiâs voice hardened. A green, glowing rectangle unfurled in the empty air beside his shoulder, and a shot from the ad campaign youâd organised several weeks ago filled the space.
Emblazoned in Stark Industries font across the image of Loki looking like a sexual apocalypse in a skin tight leather combat suit were the flickering words, âGod of Mischief.â And then, Loki said, "Itâs in the name, darling. The one you selectedâa new start was never part of the agreement, nor was it suggested. I believe the phrase was, ârefreshed branding'âŠWas it not?"
He shifted, and somehow the muscles in his legs were outlined in the soft glow of a thousand skyscraper windows. "Same package, different wrapping, as it were."
Your brows rose, trying to keep the brittle defeat from your eyes. "Your behaviour tonight was unacceptable. You canât go around comparing global foreign policy to Thanosâs bowel movements."
Loki waved a hand, sliding the glass over the desk with a scoff.
"My behaviour is always unacceptable; itâs part of the allure. The populous long for something raw, something unexpected. Something unmarred by inane pleasantries and fakery." His eyes slid upwards, nailing you like gas lamps in darkness. "Take you, for instance."
It was your turn to scoff. "I donât see what I have to do with this."
Loki leant back in the chair, eyelids drooping. His tongue nipped over his lips in a flash of pink. "You very much want to have me; I can see it. I can smell it."
Your jaw loosened, mortification prickling over your skin as he added, "Carnally," as if it required explanation.
"Youâre out of your fucking mind. I canât stand you."
Lokiâs lips curled, and you hated how much you wanted to suck the smirk off his goddam mouth. "Correct on both counts, Iâm sure. It doesnât change the inescapable reality that you want to know what I taste like."
Your tongue shaped words, and then you choked on them as Loki unfurled from the chair: all long limbs, slutty curls and slimfit tailoring. Oh Christ.
Your bare shoulder-blades met the window as he meandered across the floor without a care in the world; bladed cheekbones casting shadows across his skin; assassins emerging from the dark.
"You want to know what I fuck like," he said, words stirring like treacle. "Whether Iâm generous, whether Iâm as good as they say, whether Iâm as brutish and punishing as part of you hopes I would be."
He stood in front of you, hands clasped behind his back, and leant forwards until his breath was hot on your forehead and the expensive cologne wafting from the open buttons of his shirt drifted up your nostrils. A short puff of mirth exhaled against your skin before he added, piercing, "But most of all, you want to know what I sound like when I cum."
He was awful: conceited, rude, imperious. But, fuck, he was right.
Your sweaty palms slid against the glass as he straightened and waited for a response. He sighed, and you found yourself staring at the strain of the buttons down the front of his shirt as he did.
"As I thought," said Loki, bored. "Paralysed by your desiresâwasting away in a pit of indecision and regret as so many of your ilk." He shrugged, arms wide. "So be it."
Your hand shot out, yanking the nearest suspender and pulling his mouth to yours. Lokiâs hand flew to the surface behind your head, and the wall of glass trembled.
His warrior body pressed firm against your chest, crushing you in the scent of desire and the primal heat radiating from his skin while your hands fisted in his hair and the god groaned into your throat.
He pulled back, frowning as your hand grasped at the erection pressing against his trousers. "Let me be clear," he growled. âI am no oneâs pet. I will not be tamed. Is that understood?"
"Oh, will you shut up?" You tore at the buttons of his shirt, regretting the lack of nuance, before adding, "but, like, keep talking though."
Lokiâs chuckle vibrated against your palms as the shirt slid over the curve of his biceps and then you were raking at his perfect skin, pulling his mouth to yours in a hateful mess of tongues and need and fire that ripped through your body.
Nimble fingers made quick work of his buckle, and Lokiâs hands ran up the curve of your thighs, pushing the folds of your dress around your hips. "I've been longing to break you in..." he muttered, eyes shining in the light from New Yorkâs glittering skyline.
You yanked his hair, and Loki hissed with pleasure. "Iâm not a virgin; weirdo," you gasped, grasping his thick, perfect cock in a punishing fist.
His lips spread with a wolfish grin. "Ah, but youâve never been fucked by me."
One of his hands slipped between your legs and trailed through the wetness it found. He moaned softly, massaging your clit like oil. Your head fell against the window as he slipped a long, elegant finger inside you. It was disgusting how much you wanted him, and youâd let yourself feel every, traitorous moment.
His digits curled, stoking the same, exquisite spot again, and againâ "such a pretty, warm cunt," he whispered, filthyâas whines slid from your lips. "And to think, youâve been denying yourself."
Loki tskâd, his free hand playing at your exposed neck. He sucked a bruising kiss into your throat as hot cum welled around his fingers, holding you upright, balanced against the thigh shoved between your legs.
"Fuck me," you gasped, grappling at his shoulders. He said nothing. You met his eyes; slivers of blue visible on the rim of wide, black pools. "LikeâŠfuck me, fuck me."
"I knew youâd want me rough," he said quietly, drawing his knuckles down your cheek. The hand fell to the neckline of your dress and before you could even inhale, a mighty rip sent your dress scattering across the floor.
Lokiâs covetous eyes roamed your chest, your body; his chin dipped, his eyes glazed with lust. "Over there." He motioned with his head.
You followed the order and gripped the back of one of the two chairs positioned by the window. Leather slid under the sheen clinging to your palms. Lokiâs touch cupped your hips, his hands grazing appreciatively over bare skin.
"I knew it would be tonight," he murmured, pressing his cock into the base of your spine. His breath was hot on your throat. "As soon as I saw the utter loathing in your eyes; I knew it would be the one."
He twisted your hair back, biting the curve of your shoulder with unbearable erotic restraint. You pressed your ass into his crotch, moaning his name under your breath as he traced a finger down your spine until he reached the cock leaking precum over your skin.
Positioning between your legs, he rubbed the column twice through your slick lips before sheathing himself on the third.
The two of you gasped in unison; the guttural growl of Lokiâs voice making your knees tremble before he delivered the first, devastating thrust. The force of it sent the chair screeching over the floor.
"G-godsâŠyouâre tight," he choked, withdrawing and circling the crown at the tip of your channel. "I knew you would be perfectâŠbutâŠbutâŠ"
Another thrust and the chair hit the window, but you didnât care. Loki filled every part of you; youâd never felt so exposed, so free, with every fluid buck of his hips which made stars burst behind your eyelids. He bottomed out with a grunt of your name, balls slapping against your clit, one hand flying to the glass above your head and making a messy streak as it fell.
"Not enough," he said, breathless. The god pulled you upright and kissed you with the force of a storm, gathering you in his arms. The next thing you felt was the cool desk on your ass, Loki spreading your thighs and the utter joy of him breaching the empty space inside you heâd ruined for all other men.
One hand roughly palmed at your breasts, the other cradling your skull as every trinket youâd every owned rattled on the desk. Somewhere, something cracked. He went harder, pounding deeper with each snap of his hips that slapped against your skin.
There was a clink, a melodic roll, and then a smash. The sharp scent of whisky filled the air. You began to look but Loki pulled your chin to face him.
"On me," he ordered, eyes narrowed. There was a faint flush in his cheeks. "On me. Always."
Your legs wound around Lokiâs hips. One kiss slid into another, his bucks becoming frantic as climax burst inside you with a rattle of his name. He lowered you to the desk, sliding his glistening cock from your cunt and kissing down your abdomen.
As you craned up, slack-jawed, the god delivered a single, earth-trembling lick up the centre of your pussy; gathering himself on his tongue. He swallowed, pacing behind you and seating himself on your chair.
You sat up, observing him over your shoulder. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, thanks to you, pale skin shimmering pearl in the honeyed gloom. He looked up beneath his lashesâsmoulderingâslender fingers wrapped around the cock protruding from splayed fabric; pumping in fluid strokes.
He cocked an eyebrow, and it was as good as a beckon from one of those slender fingers.
Shifting from the desk, you sank to your knees, and Lokiâs legs widened. The fabric of his trousers creased maddeningly over the meat of his thighs.
"Tell me you havenât thought about this," he said, baiting. He could smell lies as keenly as sulphur. "That you havenât wanted to choke on my cock."
It wasnât a question.
You fixed your eyes on his as you settled a hand around the root and swallowed the tip.
Lokiâs eyes rolled back, head falling to the back of the chair. Black waves dripped down his shoulders like spilled ink, every thrust of his hips into your mouth making new combinations of filthy curses rattle from his chest.
A hand settled on your head, following the motion as your mouth worked back and forth along the length of him: sucking, licking, grazing the sensitive tip with your teeth. Loki hissed, fingers tightening in your hair.
"Fucking Norns, you are a slut," he muttered appreciatively.
You doubled down, and soon Lokiâs balls tightened. Something shifted as he stiffened, the hand in your hair flying to the armrest. His breaths were short, moans brief and ragged as he fought himself. "Finish me," he growled, tapered to a whine.
One, calculated suck was all it took. Lokiâs climax trembled down his body, spurting into your mouth like a tide of warm, smooth butter. Your tongue circled the tip, massaging him through the throes as his body shuddered a final time and a staggered sigh rocked the air.
A finger slipped beneath your chin, tilting up to meet his expectant smirk. "Well?" Loki asked, eyes glinting. "Was I everything you dreamt of?"
The lazy smile on your face evaporated. You brushed the hand aside, covering your breasts. Loki frowned.
"Thereâs no need for that, believe me." He guided your hands into his and pulled you to his lap. "Do you recall when I mentioned this realmâs sparse list of accomplishments?"
You grunted reluctant confirmation. Loki sucked your earlobe between his teeth, releasing a contented sigh. "Your body is most definitely on that list." He paused, breath catching. "All of you, truth be told," he added quietly.
Before you had time to process what he'd said, you were standing.
Lokiâs fingers fastened the buttons of his shirt with unnatural speed as you stared forlornly at the ripped dress on the floor. Fuck. There was a sweatsuit hanging in the small wardrobe stashed in the corner. That would have to doâyou could slip out the side entrance, no need toâŠ
"Iâll see you downstairs?" Loki asked, all business. He looked at you expectantly as the bespoke forest green suit jacket melted over his torso like paint. Youâd forgotten how good he looked in it and resolved never to forget it ever again.
The god carded a hand through his hair, letting in fall in wild waves. The outline of his erection was still visible through the tight trousers. Did I really just fuckâŠLoki Laufeyson? A sick pride sprouted in your belly.
You crouched and picked up the tattered, black fabric. "I donât think so, I meanâ" Lokiâs kiss cut you off. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away.
"Iâll see you downstairs," he repeated softly. "Someone has to make sure Iâm behaving myself, after all."
You rolled your eyes, trying not to stare as he swaggered to the door and shot a grin through the glass panels as he passed.
He has a point, though. You couldnât let him go unattended. What if he gets one of the senatorsâ wives alone? What if he sexes them up...like me?
The thought, however ridiculous it would have been an hour ago, was like a knife between your ribs.
You scurried to the wardrobe concealed in the corner and opened it, cursing the fact you didnât keep a spare office dress like the slinky bitches on TV.
You stared, blinking several times.
Hanging in the wardrobe was an identical dress to the one lying shredded on the floor. Almost identical. You pulled it out, holding the hanger up. In the glow of the midnight skyline, green jewels glittered around the neckline, woven in intricate patterns that melted into the folds of skirt. A note was pinned to the bodice.
I can be good, it said. Our secret.
Summary: This mission wasn't supposed to go as badly as it has. There wasn't supposed to be a blizzard, you weren't supposed to get snowed in at a remote cabin, and there certainly was supposed to be more than one bed. And none of this would be a problem were it not for your completely irrational, ill-advised crush on Loki.
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, p in v sex, fingering, workplace crushes, There Was Only One Bed.
A/N: I didn't think this was going to be the next fic I posted, but this has been 95% finished for over a year and I just figured out the final 5% in the last 72 hours. Don't ask me how my brain works because I truly don't know sometimes. Also, perhaps after you read this, you will think "hey, I would like to read another fic that involves railing Loki in the middle of a blizzard." Well, my friend, then you should read Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark by the great @loki-cees-all because not only is there a blizzard and one bed, it is also beautifully written.
You didnât expect this mission to go as badly as it has.
It was supposed to be quick, one of those tidy in and out things that almost feels routineâor at least as routine as things ever get in this line of work.
No one counted on a fucking blizzard, though.
It comes upon you suddenly enough to feel suspiciousâone moment, itâs slate grey skies and barely a puff of wind and the next thing you know, the wind is howling and whipping at your coat and you can barely see three feet ahead of you.
âWhat the fuck is this?â you shout at Loki, who looks just as perplexed as you feel. âI thought you said the radar was clear.â
âIt was,â he says, frowning. He taps at the screen of the device, an overly complicated piece of tech that youâd delegated to him because Tonyâs brief training sessions had made your eyes glaze over. Still, though, you know enough to tell that youâre looking at a weather map and thereâs absolutely no sign of the storm thatâs howling around you.
An uneasy feeling is bubbling in the pit of your stomach and prickling up the back of your neck. Everything about this feels wrong.
âWe need to find shelter,â says Loki. You know him well enough to tell that heâs pretending to be really calm and unbothered because he doesnât want you to know that somethingâs wrong. Normally, youâd call him out on that bullshit, but the creepy crawly feeling running up your spine coupled with the storm that doesnât seem to exist has you itching to get inside as soon as possible.
âThereâs a safehouse just west of this hill,â he continues, tapping at the screen.
âLetâs go, then.â
The trek to the safehouse is fairly demanding, even though the distance is short. Youâre walking straight into the wind, which seems to grow stronger and more biting by the minute. The snow under your feet grows slick with ice and your pace slows to a crawl, though even that doesnât stop you from slipping.
The safehouse turns out to be an unassuming cabin thatâs a little too shabby to be rustic; in the biting wind and dim light of the storm, itâs the most beautiful thing youâve ever seen. You make it to the door and a few minutes later, youâre inside.Â
The cabin has been unoccupied long enough to put a light layer of dust on some of the furniture, but not enough to render anything musty or moth-ridden. It is charming in a way that you donât normally see with S.H.I.E.L.D. safehousesâhandcrafted furniture thatâs a little rough around the edges, pine board floors, a squat wood burning stove in the center of the room that makes you want to curl up and read a book. ItâsâŠhomey and maybe even comfortable, two qualities that S.H.I.E.L.D. is decidedly not known for. Itâs a welcome surprise, given how this mission has gone so far.
Loki bolts the door the moment youâre both inside and quickly turns his attention to the windows.Â
âIâm putting up wards,â he says. Thereâs a grim set to his jaw that you donât particularly like, largely because you only see it when something is wrong.
The back of your neck prickles.
The wood burning stove is not merely decorativeâitâs the cabinâs only heat source. There are a few places that are intended to blend in no matter whatâyou suspect this is one of them. You manage to get a fire going and you settle yourself in front of it while Loki works. You know enough to not interrupt him, even though you feel like youâre about to bubble over with questions.
It takes him a while to finish warding all the windows and you notice he shuts the curtains for each one once heâs finished, which sends another chill up your spine. When he finally joins you by the fire, he looks a little tired.
âSo, I take it you canât just magic that storm away or something,â you say, with a casual sort of tone that sounds strained even to you.
âIt doesnât work like that,â he says, which you sort of expected. The set of his jaw is still tight. âAnd even if it did, this isnât an ordinary storm. Someone is doing this.â
âYeah, I kinda got that impression.â You pause, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. âAny idea who?â
He shakes his head. âSomeone very ancient. Angry.â
You exhale. âGreat. Do I want to know what the deal is with the curtains?â
âWe should not look outside after the sun sets.â
The skin on the back of your neck prickles. âWhy?â
Thereâs a reason that they call Loki âSilvertongue:â he is a compelling, eloquent speaker. And the somewhat irritating part is that he can do this extemporaneously and effortlesslyâhe doesnât need to think about it at all.
So the fact that he pauses for a moment to think scares you a lot. His gaze drifts to the fire, quiet and thoughtful, as though he might find his answers written in the embers.
âImagine every ghost story you heard as a child coming true,â he says finally.
You donât like how spare he is on the details, but an icy chill works its way up your spine and you get the eerie sense that someone is listening. Suddenly, you donât feel like asking any more questions.
âOkay,â you say softly.
*
Being in close quarters with Loki isâŠsomething.
There was a time early on, back when you first started working together when you thought something could maybe happen between the two of you. It was hard not toâLoki is attractive, certainly, but he has a particular magnetic quality that can make a stadium full of people think that heâs talking just to them (incidentally, this is also one of the qualities that gets red flags and warnings added to his file at S.H.I.E.L.D.) When you experience that up close, wellâŠitâs intense, to say the least. It becomes easy to believe that his smiles mean something more, that he sees something intriguing in you.
Your feelings for Loki arenât exactly a crush, or at least thatâs what you tell yourself. Crushes are silly infatuations that make people do incredibly stupid things and entertain incredibly stupid hopes. You are a professional with a good head on your shoulders: you know better. Youâre attracted to him, but it doesnât matter because nothing is going to happen.
Perhaps more importantly: Loki is a god and you are not. You have a good relationshipâyour banter comes easily and he seems to enjoy talking to you more than he likes talking to the average personâbut itâs strictly professional and thatâs all it ever will be. The fact that youâve been working closely together for three years without a hint of anything romantic only confirms your theory. Heâs your colleague, nothing more.
ExceptâŠbeing trapped in a small cabin with him is dredging up a whole swarm of feelings that you would have sworn you had gotten over.
Which, again, is another feeling you thought you were over.
The wood burning stove is doing its best to keep up, but itâs still no match for the storm outside, even though Lokiâs done something to the logs to keep them regenerating as they burn. You dig out an extra pair of woolen socks from your pack and pull on your fleece over your sweater and long sleeved thermal. You pile your coat on top of your sleeping bag, along with your share of the scratchy wool blankets youâd pulled out of the cedar chest by the foot of the bed.
Loki watches you with the lightly amused look that always feels like he must be quietly making fun of you.
âWhat?â you say as you settle yourself under the blankets. âSome of us are delicate mortals who find the cold a little uncomfortable.â
âI said absolutely nothing,â he says, though the glimmer in his eyes undercuts his point.
âYou were thinking it.â
âOh, the things I think of would turn your head, darling.â
You know that thereâs no innuendo specific to you in that statement, but your body reacts like there is: your heart and stomach do a complicated series of flips that would put trapeze artists to shame and a heavy, familiar heat stirs hopefully in your hips. Outwardly, you roll your eyes at him and focus on arranging the blankets over your legs.Â
âIâm well aware that your mind is a kaleidoscope of horrors,â you say.Â
âOh, I wouldnât say itâs horrors so much asââ
You recognize that look in his eye: it is the herald of something wildly inappropriate. And while youâre no prude, the reality is that youâre about to share a bed with him and you will have no outlet for whatever feelings of lust this will inevitably provoke. Time to change the subject to something as far away from sex as possible, which happens to be whatever creepy fuckery is happening outside.Â
âSpeaking of horrors: why are you being so cagey about whatâs going on out there?â you say.
You almost feel a little guilty as the teasing expression disappears from his face and settles into something grimmer. âItâs safer this way,â he says as he sets about preparing his own sleeping bag and blankets.
âThat doesnât really answer my question,â you say.
âI know.â
It occurs to you that this is a perfect example of the cryptic bullshit that makes his intentions so hard to read. Is he saying this because he cares about you? Is he trying to prevent problems down the road? All of the above or something else entirely? Nobody fucking knows, least of all you.
You scowl at him and he looks completely unbothered, which is typical.
âI hate it when you do this, you know,â you say.
Thereâs a slight twitch to his lips that could be a hint of a smile and youâre embarrassed by how giddy that makes you feel.Â
âI know,â he says.
âIt makes me feel like you donât trust me or something.â
He stops what heâs doing and looks at you and his face is so honest and open that it makes your breath catch in your throat.
âOf course I trust you,â he says.
Thereâs something unsaid in his expression and youâre not quite sure what it is, but it leaves you with a warm glow in your chest.
âOkay,â you say softly.
For the briefest of moments, the difference between god and human doesnât feel so impossibly vast.
But itâs only a moment.
*
You fall asleep quickly, even with Loki lying so close by that you could count his breaths if you wanted to.
You wake sometime in the middle of the night. The wind is still howling outside. Your mouth is dry and you fumble on the nightstand for your water bottle. Your fingers close around empty space and it occurs to you that youâd left it over by the fire.
You lie still, staring at the ceiling. The blankets have warmed up with your body heat and youâre not keen to brave the chill of the cabin. You could wake Loki up, maybe ask him to summon your water bottle to you. You nearly snort with laughter at the thought. That would go over well.
After a moment, you muster up all of your strength and willpower and haul yourself out of bed.
Itâs not as bad as you thought it would be, in the end. You pad over to the fire and take a long drink from your water bottle, which turns out to be almost empty. You go to the little kitchen to refill it, idly listening to the wind howl outside.
You wonder if itâs still snowing, if the snow is piling up in drifts against the doors and windows, freezing you in. The thought of being stranded here with Loki is admittedly appealing.
Your brain is still a fuzzy from sleep and youâre a little distracted thinking about being snowed in with Loki and for just a moment, you forget what he said about not looking outside. You reach up to the kitchen window and push the fabric of the curtain aside to see how bad the snow is.
Youâre not frightened at first because you only see shadows, but after a moment, you realize that the shadows are moving in an unnatural, broken sort of way, like someone had sculpted them into rough facsimiles of people and commanded them to walk, without really explaining what walking was.
Quite suddenly, they all turn and look at you. Or they would be looking at you if they had eyes. There is simply a void where their faces are, though somehow you can tell that their mouths are open, gaping and hungry, showing all of their teeth.
You feel something hook into the thread of your thoughts, tugging and pulling at your mind. The world tilts on its axis and thereâs a sharp and white hot burning at the base of your skull that makes you cry out.
In the haze of pain, you think to yourself that itâs like theyâre trying to take your soul and the shadows grin at you with too many teeth and a hissing, sibilant chorus of voices says, yes, we are hungry. So very hungry.
You know in that moment that they intend to kill you.
You are leaning closer to the window, your thoughts growing dark and murky as something saws away at the thing that tethers your soul to your body and there is so much pain and all of those horrible spindly hands and grinning mouths are reaching for youâ
Someone is grabbing you around the waist and you scream because you think this must be the end, but instead, theyâre pulling you away from the window and yanking the curtain closed and you realize itâs Loki.
There is a flash of green light and the connection between you and whatever is outside breaks abruptly and the pain retreats to a dull ache, like your body is carefully starting to repair those shredded, fraying threads that the shadows were tugging on.Â
Lokiâs eyes are wild and he looks at you like he half expects you to disintegrate or melt into the shadows. You are suddenly shaking so badly that your legs start to buckle.
âIâm s-s-sorry,â you say through chattering teeth. The cold you feel is bone deep and unnatural. âF-f-forgot.â
âFoolish girl.â He says it without malice, almost with affection, though his face is drawn tight with something like worry. Your legs are about to fail you, but heâs right there before they can, scooping you up into his arms like itâs nothing.
You snuggle up against his chest almost automatically, your body instinctively seeking out heat. âS-s-s-sorry, c-c-c-cold,â you manage to squeak out.
âI know,â he says and it almost sounds gentle. He is carrying you across the room and climbing back into bed with you in his arms, drawing the pile of blankets and sleeping bags over the two of you.Â
The wind howls and you shudder, realizing for perhaps the first time that it may not be the wind making those noises. Loki stiffens, his grip on you tightening.Â
âDid you see their eyes?â
You shake your head.
You feel some of the tension leave him, though not all.
You have so many questions, but that unnatural, bone deep cold is making you sluggish and sleepy and your teeth are chattering so hard you wonder if youâd even be able to speak at all.
âYou need to rest,â he says. The cold feels like the sort of thing that could easily claim you while you sleep and he must see that fear reflected in your eyes because his expression softens ever so slightly. âRest. Iâll keep you safe.â
You donât like how quickly that line melts you. You tell yourself that itâs only because youâre so cold and tired, but you know thatâs not entirely true.Â
You allow your head to drop to his chest and he readjusts his grip on you, smoothing one hand against your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head. You try to catalog all of the different sensesâthe way he smells like snow and pine, the heat of his body pressed against yours, the feeling of his arms wrapped around youâbut sleep is pulling insistently at your eyelids and you find yourself struggling to stay awake.
âRest,â he says, and this time it sounds like a command.
Your eyes slowly slide shut and sleep finally claims you.
It seems like you sleep for a long time. Your dreams are strange and unsettling and have an odd sort of veneer, like theyâre real but not quite.Â
The first time you wake up, itâs because of a nightmare. You are back at the window and the things outside are threading their fingers underneath the panes, reaching for you with their spindly hands, clacking their too sharp teeth. You donât know where Loki is and youâre trying to back away as they reach for you, and one of them is wrapping its fingers around your wrist and you can see its eyes andâ
You thrash out in your sleep and gentle hands are soothing you. You wake abruptly, shaking, blearily looking up at Lokiâs face.
âTheyâthey were coming for me,â you manage to sputter out.
âShh.â Loki is stroking your back. âYouâre safe. I wonât let them harm you.â
Your pounding heartbeat takes a moment to settle, but the gentle pressure of Lokiâs hands on your back calms you slightly. Thereâs a tenderness in his actions that you donât necessarily expect, but it also feels so right and natural that you wonder how you could have ever been surprised by it.
âWhat are they?â you ask.
âThatâs an answer for daylight, love,â he says. âGo back to sleep. Youâre safe.â
You want to protest and push for answers, but youâre so very tired and heâs smoothing your hair again and you can feel exhaustion tugging at your eyelids, ready to pull you back under.
âIâm holding you to that,â you manage to mumble at him. âIâm not going to forget.â
âIâd expect nothing less.â You can hear the smile in his voice. âSleep, darling.â
You fall back under.
Your dreams are still wild and strange this time around. You wake again a few hours later, teeth chattering and tears streaming down your face. Loki wraps you even more tightly in his arms, drawing more blankets over the two of you, conjuring an additional pile of furs. You try to tell him to save his magic for the wards and the fire, but he hushes you and mutters something about how thatâs not exactly how it works, even though youâre pretty sure it is.
You sleep again.
You have a half memory of him quieting you and pressing his lips against your forehead, but youâre not quite sure if itâs real or wishful thinking.
When you wake again, itâs still dark and the wind is still howling. The cold has retreated somewhatâitâs not as sharp, not as biting, but you still need the warmth of the blankets and Lokiâs arms to keep it at bay.
Youâre a bit more clearheaded now, so thereâs part of you that feels a little embarrassed about what happened. It was a stupid mistake. Rookie level. You know better.
âAre you awake?â Lokiâs voice rumbles pleasantly against your ear.
âSort of.â You hope he continues holding you. Youâre not quite ready to give up his warmth or his arms just yet.
âHow is one âsort ofâ awake? Either you arenât or you are,â he says.
âIâm very talented,â you say. Itâs not particularly funny, but he humors you with a soft laugh, more exhalation than anything else.
âHow do you feel?â he asks.
âStill cold,â you say. While it is true, youâre also secretly hoping that the more you emphasize this, the more likely he is to continue holding you. âItâs better than it was, but itâs still bad.â
As if to prove a point, a shudder works its way through you. Loki shifts, rolling over so his body covers yours, pulling the blankets up so they cover your shoulders. It helps, but thereâs now a degree of intimacy there that makes your heart stumble in your chest and your breath catch in your throat. You know he doesnât mean anything by it, but with his green eyes bright above you, you canât help but hope he does.
Leave it to him to ruin the moment.
âThat was very foolish of you,â he says, his expression becoming serious and his voice taking on that hard edge that you only hear when heâs trying to pick a fight.
You exhale sharply. âAre you seriously trying to do this right now? I told you it was an accident. I was half asleep.â
âIâm not fond of close calls,â he says tightly.
âOh bullshit,â you snap. âYou fucking love chaos, donât tellââ
âItâs not chaos, it was foolish and dangerousââ
âFor fuckâs sake, do you think Iâm not aware of that? Iâm notââ
âYou could have died.â Heâs not yelling, but heâs raising his voice and thereâs an unexpectedly strained quality to his tone that you donât know what to do with. âItâs not chaos, itâs not an accident, itâsââ
For a moment, he seems like he might be at a loss for words, and for some reason, this enrages you.
âItâs what, Loki?â you say with more venom than you intend. âPlease enlighten me, since youâre such a fucking expert.â
Youâre not quite sure what line youâve crossed, but you think it must be an important one based on how angry he looks.
âYou truly are infuriating,â he says. âYou nearly get yourself killed and you have the audacity to speak that way to me after I save your life!?â
And before you can say a word, he brings his mouth down on yours in a bruising kiss.
His tongue sweeps past your lips, seeking out yours, demanding and hungry. Your response is reflexive and instinctive, your lips parting, tongue meeting his. You return his kiss, even though youâre still a little mad at him and heâs maybe still a little mad at you. But his mouth loses that hard edge as you kiss him back, his touch turning softer, more tender, but still urgent and wanting.
âDo not scare me like that ever again,â he murmurs against your lips, kissing you in between words, each pause punctuated by the soft caress of his lips, the silky warmth of his tongue. âDo you have any idea what youâve put me through?â
You are astonished and somewhat perplexed. âIâŠI didnât even know that youâŠthat you wanted thisââ
âDarling, I have thought of little else.â
His mouth covers yours again and you are drowning in the feeling of him. The cold that has settled in your bones is melting like snow in springtime. You move your hands along his shoulders, tentative at first, then a little braver. You thread your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and smooth it is. He deepens the kiss, his fingertips tracing the curve of your cheekbones.Â
Itâs dizzingly good and you want more. You need more. You arch against him in a clear invitation, reveling in how perfectly his body fits against yours. He sighs and presses back against you briefly before pulling away.
âYou should rest,â he says, his voice slightly strained. âYou experienced some very powerful magicâI donât want you to overexert yourself.â
âI wonât,â you say, tugging him back down to you. He allows this for a moment, his hands cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss with toe curling intensity.
And then he draws back.
âYou really do need to rest,â he says.
You shake your head. âI need you, Loki.â
His lips and tongue are just as insistent as yours when you pull him back into a kiss. You can feel him growing hard against your thigh and when you wrap your legs around his waist and rock your hips against him, he groans and nips at your lip before withdrawing again.
âDarling,â he says, his voice a little hoarse, like heâs barely holding himself back.
âI can stay on my back,â you say.
âAppealing as that is, youâre rather ignoring my point.â
âAnd youâre ignoring mine,â you say, rolling your hips again. His eyes close for a moment as he presses back against you, his hand sliding along your thigh. Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back down into a kiss that he returns without protest.
You catch his lower lip between your teeth and he sucks in a deep breath as he grinds his hips against you.
âPlease,â you breathe. âI need you so bad.â
He groans as he lowers his head to the column of your throat. âIâm trying to keep you safe and youâre tempting me like this.â
âTouch me and tell me I need to rest more than I need you.â
Itâs a bold thing to say and your heart pounds with anticipation as you feel him nip at your collarbone. His hand pauses at your hip, so close to where you need him. You wait a moment and then take his hand in yours and guide it underneath your waistband and between your legs. He lifts his head, gaze snapping to yours and the moment that his fingers graze your slickness, you know that youâve won.
âOh, youâre dripping,â he says, his voice dropping and his eyes darkening with lust as his fingers swipe across your clit.
Youâre tempted to tell him that you told him so, but this still feels so fragile and tenuous that you settle for a more flattering truth: âLoki, I need you.â
âDo you have any idea what youâre doing to me?â He shifts on top of you so that you feel the hard press of his cock against your hip.
âSame thing that youâre doing to me,â you say. âWhich is why I need you to fuck me.â
He sighs, but his fingers donât stop moving. âYou really ought to rest.â
âI can stay on my back,â you say. âYou can take me really slowly and gently. Think about how good that will feel.â
âDarling,â he says. You can see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes and you know that youâve almost won. You feel your orgasm starting to coil like a snake in your belly and you moan, rocking your hips with his hand.
âLoki.â You lick your lips. âDonât you want to feel me come on your cock?â
You know the exact moment he gives inâyou see it in his eyes. Less than a second later, heâs sliding one long finger inside of you and curling it just right.
âNot before I finish what I started.â His voice is a low growl.
âYes,â you breathe, letting your head tip back against the pillow. âGod, that feels so good.â
âI can feel you trembling,â he says, his voice rough. âAre you going to come for me already? Iâve barely touched you.â
âI told you: I need you,â you say.
He raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening in a very attractive way. âYouâre not getting pert with me, are you?â
Thereâs a particular tone to his voice, a sternness that makes you shiver. Something to explore later, perhapsâright now, you need him too badly to play games.
âNo, just trying to emphasize that I need you.â
âAre you really that desperate for me? Do you really need me that much? Surely you could touch yourself, surely you donât need me that badly.â
You know that heâs saying that to amp you up, to tease you. But you are also so desperate to come that the idea of not having him is beyond comprehension.
âI do,â you say, a bit of desperate note making its way into your voice. âI need you, Loki, I need to come for you, need you to fuck me, please donât make me wait, please, please, pleaseââ
He stops your mouth with a kiss as he eases a second finger inside of you. âIâm going to take care of you, sweet thing,â he says as you gasp at the stretch.Â
His fingers are curling inside of you, his thumb working your clit in small, tight circles that are pushing you closer and closer to the edge as a fantastic pressure builds inside of you.
âOh, thatâs it.â His eyes are dark, pupils wide and lust-blown. âI can feel how close you are.â He brings his lips to your ear. âCome for me and then Iâll fuck you properly.â
Your breath hitches as you reach your peak. âOh godâIâfuck, Iâm coming, Iâmââ
Your voice cuts out as you come, pure pleasure blooming low in your hips, your back arching against the mattress as Loki works you through it, murmuring soft encouragement as he watches you shake in his arms.
âYouâre beautiful when you come undone,â he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. âUtterly stunning.â
You fumble for the waistband of his pants, your fingers slipping over the fastenings. âI need you,â you say, tugging at the fabric.
His mouth curls into a smile, his eyes dancing with mischief. âAre you quite certain?â
Leather yields to warm skin and you slide your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He inhales sharply as you stroke him, his eyes turning dark.
âYouâre presenting a very compelling argument,â he says.
âThink about how good youâll feel inside of me,â you say, gently increasing the pressure on his shaft as you move your hand.
âNorns, woman.â But heâs rolling on top of you as he says this and sliding his pants off his hips. He pauses briefly to divest you of your pants and underwear. A shiver works through you during the brief moment when your bare skin is exposed to the chill of the roomâŠand he notices right away, hesitating slightly as his brow furrows in concern.
âDon't you dare stop,â you say. âI donât care if I get hypothermia and die, I will straight up implode if you donât fuck me right now.â
He chuckles, pulling more blankets around the two of you as he settles himself between your thighs. âAre you always so demanding?â
âLook, youâve been teasing me for the last twenty minutes and youâve been strutting around in those fucking leather pants for a lot longer, so forgive me if Iâm a little impatient.â
He pauses above you, his expression deadly serious. âLet's get one thing quite clear, my love: I do not strut.â
Thereâs a glimmer in his eyes and you smirk back at him. âYou totally do.â
He lines up the tip of his cock with your entrance. âI walk with the gravitas and stature appropriate to my station.â
âYou strut and I know you strut because itâs extremely distracting.â
His smile is sly. âTell me more about how I distract you.â
âYou make me think about doing this with you.â
The tip of his cock eases into you. âDo I? How often, would you say?â
âAll the time.â
He sinks in another inch. âAll the time?â
âMmmhm.â
One more inch. âThat does sound terribly distracting.â
âYouâre still trying to tease me,â you say and he grins and gives you another inch.
âYou wouldnât want me as much if I didnât.â
âIâd want you always, no matter what.â
His gaze turns serious and he leans into kiss you, his hands stroking your cheek as he sinks into you fully, all the way to the hilt. You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, your legs wrapping around his waist to hold him even closer. Heâs still for a moment, his eyes shut.
He opens them.
âIâve waited so long to have you,â he murmurs.
âYou have me,â you say. âYou always have.â
He kisses you deeply as he starts moving, slow as honey, sweetness in every thrust of his hips or touch of his lips. He fills you in a way that youâve never experienced, his cock bumping up against that tender place inside you, making you gasp and pull him deeper.Â
It builds slowly and steadily, the muscles of your cunt tightening as he takes you higher. You shudder as your climax builds.
âThatâs it, my love,â he breathes. âThatâs it.â
You inhale sharply, your orgasm swelling within you, rising, about to pull you under. You ride that wave, your hips rocking with his. You try and hold on for as long as you can because he feels so good and you donât want it to end, but eventually, it becomes too much.
You keen and he kisses you. âCome for me, darling. Let me feel you come.â
Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and all your muscles tense and release as you come. Loki sucks in a sharp breath, brow furrowing.
âFuck.â His pace increases slightly. âYouâre divine.â
Less than a second later, heâs also unraveling, his expression of ecstasy particularly beautiful in the flickering firelight. Even in the hazy afterglow of your own pleasure, you canât help but stare at him, utterly spellbound.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you deeply and slows to a halt, his cock still throbbing inside of you.
âI donât want to say I told you soââ you start.
âThatâs a lie.â His reply is prompt and accompanied by another deep kiss.
You smile against his lips. âOkay, maybe I did want to say I told you so.â
âBetter.â
You feel pleasantly loose and sleepy, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. He seems to notice your fatigue and raises an eyebrow. âIs this the part where I say I told you so?â he asks as he slowly eases out of you.
âMmm, but it was so worth it,â you say. âSo Iâm basically right.â
âThatâs not how that works,â he says.
âIâm not listening to you,â you say. âI need to recover my strength.â
âNow youâre just being pert.â He shifts to his side and draws you close so heâs spooned up against your back.
âYou like it,â you say, barely stifling a yawn.
âMmm, I do,â he says, drawing the pile of blankets back over you both. âAre you warm enough?â
âYeah, but donât go anywhere.â
You feel him smile as he presses a kiss against the back of your neck. âI donât intend to.â
âGood.â
You both fall asleep like this, wrapped around each other, warm and safe from the storm outside.
Summary: This mission wasn't supposed to go as badly as it has. There wasn't supposed to be a blizzard, you weren't supposed to get snowed in at a remote cabin, and there certainly was supposed to be more than one bed. And none of this would be a problem were it not for your completely irrational, ill-advised crush on Loki.
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, p in v sex, fingering, workplace crushes, There Was Only One Bed.
A/N: I didn't think this was going to be the next fic I posted, but this has been 95% finished for over a year and I just figured out the final 5% in the last 72 hours. Don't ask me how my brain works because I truly don't know sometimes. Also, perhaps after you read this, you will think "hey, I would like to read another fic that involves railing Loki in the middle of a blizzard." Well, my friend, then you should read Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark by the great @loki-cees-all because not only is there a blizzard and one bed, it is also beautifully written.
You didnât expect this mission to go as badly as it has.
It was supposed to be quick, one of those tidy in and out things that almost feels routineâor at least as routine as things ever get in this line of work.
No one counted on a fucking blizzard, though.
It comes upon you suddenly enough to feel suspiciousâone moment, itâs slate grey skies and barely a puff of wind and the next thing you know, the wind is howling and whipping at your coat and you can barely see three feet ahead of you.
âWhat the fuck is this?â you shout at Loki, who looks just as perplexed as you feel. âI thought you said the radar was clear.â
âIt was,â he says, frowning. He taps at the screen of the device, an overly complicated piece of tech that youâd delegated to him because Tonyâs brief training sessions had made your eyes glaze over. Still, though, you know enough to tell that youâre looking at a weather map and thereâs absolutely no sign of the storm thatâs howling around you.
An uneasy feeling is bubbling in the pit of your stomach and prickling up the back of your neck. Everything about this feels wrong.
âWe need to find shelter,â says Loki. You know him well enough to tell that heâs pretending to be really calm and unbothered because he doesnât want you to know that somethingâs wrong. Normally, youâd call him out on that bullshit, but the creepy crawly feeling running up your spine coupled with the storm that doesnât seem to exist has you itching to get inside as soon as possible.
âThereâs a safehouse just west of this hill,â he continues, tapping at the screen.
âLetâs go, then.â
The trek to the safehouse is fairly demanding, even though the distance is short. Youâre walking straight into the wind, which seems to grow stronger and more biting by the minute. The snow under your feet grows slick with ice and your pace slows to a crawl, though even that doesnât stop you from slipping.
The safehouse turns out to be an unassuming cabin thatâs a little too shabby to be rustic; in the biting wind and dim light of the storm, itâs the most beautiful thing youâve ever seen. You make it to the door and a few minutes later, youâre inside.Â
The cabin has been unoccupied long enough to put a light layer of dust on some of the furniture, but not enough to render anything musty or moth-ridden. It is charming in a way that you donât normally see with S.H.I.E.L.D. safehousesâhandcrafted furniture thatâs a little rough around the edges, pine board floors, a squat wood burning stove in the center of the room that makes you want to curl up and read a book. ItâsâŠhomey and maybe even comfortable, two qualities that S.H.I.E.L.D. is decidedly not known for. Itâs a welcome surprise, given how this mission has gone so far.
Loki bolts the door the moment youâre both inside and quickly turns his attention to the windows.Â
âIâm putting up wards,â he says. Thereâs a grim set to his jaw that you donât particularly like, largely because you only see it when something is wrong.
The back of your neck prickles.
The wood burning stove is not merely decorativeâitâs the cabinâs only heat source. There are a few places that are intended to blend in no matter whatâyou suspect this is one of them. You manage to get a fire going and you settle yourself in front of it while Loki works. You know enough to not interrupt him, even though you feel like youâre about to bubble over with questions.
It takes him a while to finish warding all the windows and you notice he shuts the curtains for each one once heâs finished, which sends another chill up your spine. When he finally joins you by the fire, he looks a little tired.
âSo, I take it you canât just magic that storm away or something,â you say, with a casual sort of tone that sounds strained even to you.
âIt doesnât work like that,â he says, which you sort of expected. The set of his jaw is still tight. âAnd even if it did, this isnât an ordinary storm. Someone is doing this.â
âYeah, I kinda got that impression.â You pause, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. âAny idea who?â
He shakes his head. âSomeone very ancient. Angry.â
You exhale. âGreat. Do I want to know what the deal is with the curtains?â
âWe should not look outside after the sun sets.â
The skin on the back of your neck prickles. âWhy?â
Thereâs a reason that they call Loki âSilvertongue:â he is a compelling, eloquent speaker. And the somewhat irritating part is that he can do this extemporaneously and effortlesslyâhe doesnât need to think about it at all.
So the fact that he pauses for a moment to think scares you a lot. His gaze drifts to the fire, quiet and thoughtful, as though he might find his answers written in the embers.
âImagine every ghost story you heard as a child coming true,â he says finally.
You donât like how spare he is on the details, but an icy chill works its way up your spine and you get the eerie sense that someone is listening. Suddenly, you donât feel like asking any more questions.
âOkay,â you say softly.
*
Being in close quarters with Loki isâŠsomething.
There was a time early on, back when you first started working together when you thought something could maybe happen between the two of you. It was hard not toâLoki is attractive, certainly, but he has a particular magnetic quality that can make a stadium full of people think that heâs talking just to them (incidentally, this is also one of the qualities that gets red flags and warnings added to his file at S.H.I.E.L.D.) When you experience that up close, wellâŠitâs intense, to say the least. It becomes easy to believe that his smiles mean something more, that he sees something intriguing in you.
Your feelings for Loki arenât exactly a crush, or at least thatâs what you tell yourself. Crushes are silly infatuations that make people do incredibly stupid things and entertain incredibly stupid hopes. You are a professional with a good head on your shoulders: you know better. Youâre attracted to him, but it doesnât matter because nothing is going to happen.
Perhaps more importantly: Loki is a god and you are not. You have a good relationshipâyour banter comes easily and he seems to enjoy talking to you more than he likes talking to the average personâbut itâs strictly professional and thatâs all it ever will be. The fact that youâve been working closely together for three years without a hint of anything romantic only confirms your theory. Heâs your colleague, nothing more.
ExceptâŠbeing trapped in a small cabin with him is dredging up a whole swarm of feelings that you would have sworn you had gotten over.
Which, again, is another feeling you thought you were over.
The wood burning stove is doing its best to keep up, but itâs still no match for the storm outside, even though Lokiâs done something to the logs to keep them regenerating as they burn. You dig out an extra pair of woolen socks from your pack and pull on your fleece over your sweater and long sleeved thermal. You pile your coat on top of your sleeping bag, along with your share of the scratchy wool blankets youâd pulled out of the cedar chest by the foot of the bed.
Loki watches you with the lightly amused look that always feels like he must be quietly making fun of you.
âWhat?â you say as you settle yourself under the blankets. âSome of us are delicate mortals who find the cold a little uncomfortable.â
âI said absolutely nothing,â he says, though the glimmer in his eyes undercuts his point.
âYou were thinking it.â
âOh, the things I think of would turn your head, darling.â
You know that thereâs no innuendo specific to you in that statement, but your body reacts like there is: your heart and stomach do a complicated series of flips that would put trapeze artists to shame and a heavy, familiar heat stirs hopefully in your hips. Outwardly, you roll your eyes at him and focus on arranging the blankets over your legs.Â
âIâm well aware that your mind is a kaleidoscope of horrors,â you say.Â
âOh, I wouldnât say itâs horrors so much asââ
You recognize that look in his eye: it is the herald of something wildly inappropriate. And while youâre no prude, the reality is that youâre about to share a bed with him and you will have no outlet for whatever feelings of lust this will inevitably provoke. Time to change the subject to something as far away from sex as possible, which happens to be whatever creepy fuckery is happening outside.Â
âSpeaking of horrors: why are you being so cagey about whatâs going on out there?â you say.
You almost feel a little guilty as the teasing expression disappears from his face and settles into something grimmer. âItâs safer this way,â he says as he sets about preparing his own sleeping bag and blankets.
âThat doesnât really answer my question,â you say.
âI know.â
It occurs to you that this is a perfect example of the cryptic bullshit that makes his intentions so hard to read. Is he saying this because he cares about you? Is he trying to prevent problems down the road? All of the above or something else entirely? Nobody fucking knows, least of all you.
You scowl at him and he looks completely unbothered, which is typical.
âI hate it when you do this, you know,â you say.
Thereâs a slight twitch to his lips that could be a hint of a smile and youâre embarrassed by how giddy that makes you feel.Â
âI know,â he says.
âIt makes me feel like you donât trust me or something.â
He stops what heâs doing and looks at you and his face is so honest and open that it makes your breath catch in your throat.
âOf course I trust you,â he says.
Thereâs something unsaid in his expression and youâre not quite sure what it is, but it leaves you with a warm glow in your chest.
âOkay,â you say softly.
For the briefest of moments, the difference between god and human doesnât feel so impossibly vast.
But itâs only a moment.
*
You fall asleep quickly, even with Loki lying so close by that you could count his breaths if you wanted to.
You wake sometime in the middle of the night. The wind is still howling outside. Your mouth is dry and you fumble on the nightstand for your water bottle. Your fingers close around empty space and it occurs to you that youâd left it over by the fire.
You lie still, staring at the ceiling. The blankets have warmed up with your body heat and youâre not keen to brave the chill of the cabin. You could wake Loki up, maybe ask him to summon your water bottle to you. You nearly snort with laughter at the thought. That would go over well.
After a moment, you muster up all of your strength and willpower and haul yourself out of bed.
Itâs not as bad as you thought it would be, in the end. You pad over to the fire and take a long drink from your water bottle, which turns out to be almost empty. You go to the little kitchen to refill it, idly listening to the wind howl outside.
You wonder if itâs still snowing, if the snow is piling up in drifts against the doors and windows, freezing you in. The thought of being stranded here with Loki is admittedly appealing.
Your brain is still a fuzzy from sleep and youâre a little distracted thinking about being snowed in with Loki and for just a moment, you forget what he said about not looking outside. You reach up to the kitchen window and push the fabric of the curtain aside to see how bad the snow is.
Youâre not frightened at first because you only see shadows, but after a moment, you realize that the shadows are moving in an unnatural, broken sort of way, like someone had sculpted them into rough facsimiles of people and commanded them to walk, without really explaining what walking was.
Quite suddenly, they all turn and look at you. Or they would be looking at you if they had eyes. There is simply a void where their faces are, though somehow you can tell that their mouths are open, gaping and hungry, showing all of their teeth.
You feel something hook into the thread of your thoughts, tugging and pulling at your mind. The world tilts on its axis and thereâs a sharp and white hot burning at the base of your skull that makes you cry out.
In the haze of pain, you think to yourself that itâs like theyâre trying to take your soul and the shadows grin at you with too many teeth and a hissing, sibilant chorus of voices says, yes, we are hungry. So very hungry.
You know in that moment that they intend to kill you.
You are leaning closer to the window, your thoughts growing dark and murky as something saws away at the thing that tethers your soul to your body and there is so much pain and all of those horrible spindly hands and grinning mouths are reaching for youâ
Someone is grabbing you around the waist and you scream because you think this must be the end, but instead, theyâre pulling you away from the window and yanking the curtain closed and you realize itâs Loki.
There is a flash of green light and the connection between you and whatever is outside breaks abruptly and the pain retreats to a dull ache, like your body is carefully starting to repair those shredded, fraying threads that the shadows were tugging on.Â
Lokiâs eyes are wild and he looks at you like he half expects you to disintegrate or melt into the shadows. You are suddenly shaking so badly that your legs start to buckle.
âIâm s-s-sorry,â you say through chattering teeth. The cold you feel is bone deep and unnatural. âF-f-forgot.â
âFoolish girl.â He says it without malice, almost with affection, though his face is drawn tight with something like worry. Your legs are about to fail you, but heâs right there before they can, scooping you up into his arms like itâs nothing.
You snuggle up against his chest almost automatically, your body instinctively seeking out heat. âS-s-s-sorry, c-c-c-cold,â you manage to squeak out.
âI know,â he says and it almost sounds gentle. He is carrying you across the room and climbing back into bed with you in his arms, drawing the pile of blankets and sleeping bags over the two of you.Â
The wind howls and you shudder, realizing for perhaps the first time that it may not be the wind making those noises. Loki stiffens, his grip on you tightening.Â
âDid you see their eyes?â
You shake your head.
You feel some of the tension leave him, though not all.
You have so many questions, but that unnatural, bone deep cold is making you sluggish and sleepy and your teeth are chattering so hard you wonder if youâd even be able to speak at all.
âYou need to rest,â he says. The cold feels like the sort of thing that could easily claim you while you sleep and he must see that fear reflected in your eyes because his expression softens ever so slightly. âRest. Iâll keep you safe.â
You donât like how quickly that line melts you. You tell yourself that itâs only because youâre so cold and tired, but you know thatâs not entirely true.Â
You allow your head to drop to his chest and he readjusts his grip on you, smoothing one hand against your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head. You try to catalog all of the different sensesâthe way he smells like snow and pine, the heat of his body pressed against yours, the feeling of his arms wrapped around youâbut sleep is pulling insistently at your eyelids and you find yourself struggling to stay awake.
âRest,â he says, and this time it sounds like a command.
Your eyes slowly slide shut and sleep finally claims you.
It seems like you sleep for a long time. Your dreams are strange and unsettling and have an odd sort of veneer, like theyâre real but not quite.Â
The first time you wake up, itâs because of a nightmare. You are back at the window and the things outside are threading their fingers underneath the panes, reaching for you with their spindly hands, clacking their too sharp teeth. You donât know where Loki is and youâre trying to back away as they reach for you, and one of them is wrapping its fingers around your wrist and you can see its eyes andâ
You thrash out in your sleep and gentle hands are soothing you. You wake abruptly, shaking, blearily looking up at Lokiâs face.
âTheyâthey were coming for me,â you manage to sputter out.
âShh.â Loki is stroking your back. âYouâre safe. I wonât let them harm you.â
Your pounding heartbeat takes a moment to settle, but the gentle pressure of Lokiâs hands on your back calms you slightly. Thereâs a tenderness in his actions that you donât necessarily expect, but it also feels so right and natural that you wonder how you could have ever been surprised by it.
âWhat are they?â you ask.
âThatâs an answer for daylight, love,â he says. âGo back to sleep. Youâre safe.â
You want to protest and push for answers, but youâre so very tired and heâs smoothing your hair again and you can feel exhaustion tugging at your eyelids, ready to pull you back under.
âIâm holding you to that,â you manage to mumble at him. âIâm not going to forget.â
âIâd expect nothing less.â You can hear the smile in his voice. âSleep, darling.â
You fall back under.
Your dreams are still wild and strange this time around. You wake again a few hours later, teeth chattering and tears streaming down your face. Loki wraps you even more tightly in his arms, drawing more blankets over the two of you, conjuring an additional pile of furs. You try to tell him to save his magic for the wards and the fire, but he hushes you and mutters something about how thatâs not exactly how it works, even though youâre pretty sure it is.
You sleep again.
You have a half memory of him quieting you and pressing his lips against your forehead, but youâre not quite sure if itâs real or wishful thinking.
When you wake again, itâs still dark and the wind is still howling. The cold has retreated somewhatâitâs not as sharp, not as biting, but you still need the warmth of the blankets and Lokiâs arms to keep it at bay.
Youâre a bit more clearheaded now, so thereâs part of you that feels a little embarrassed about what happened. It was a stupid mistake. Rookie level. You know better.
âAre you awake?â Lokiâs voice rumbles pleasantly against your ear.
âSort of.â You hope he continues holding you. Youâre not quite ready to give up his warmth or his arms just yet.
âHow is one âsort ofâ awake? Either you arenât or you are,â he says.
âIâm very talented,â you say. Itâs not particularly funny, but he humors you with a soft laugh, more exhalation than anything else.
âHow do you feel?â he asks.
âStill cold,â you say. While it is true, youâre also secretly hoping that the more you emphasize this, the more likely he is to continue holding you. âItâs better than it was, but itâs still bad.â
As if to prove a point, a shudder works its way through you. Loki shifts, rolling over so his body covers yours, pulling the blankets up so they cover your shoulders. It helps, but thereâs now a degree of intimacy there that makes your heart stumble in your chest and your breath catch in your throat. You know he doesnât mean anything by it, but with his green eyes bright above you, you canât help but hope he does.
Leave it to him to ruin the moment.
âThat was very foolish of you,â he says, his expression becoming serious and his voice taking on that hard edge that you only hear when heâs trying to pick a fight.
You exhale sharply. âAre you seriously trying to do this right now? I told you it was an accident. I was half asleep.â
âIâm not fond of close calls,â he says tightly.
âOh bullshit,â you snap. âYou fucking love chaos, donât tellââ
âItâs not chaos, it was foolish and dangerousââ
âFor fuckâs sake, do you think Iâm not aware of that? Iâm notââ
âYou could have died.â Heâs not yelling, but heâs raising his voice and thereâs an unexpectedly strained quality to his tone that you donât know what to do with. âItâs not chaos, itâs not an accident, itâsââ
For a moment, he seems like he might be at a loss for words, and for some reason, this enrages you.
âItâs what, Loki?â you say with more venom than you intend. âPlease enlighten me, since youâre such a fucking expert.â
Youâre not quite sure what line youâve crossed, but you think it must be an important one based on how angry he looks.
âYou truly are infuriating,â he says. âYou nearly get yourself killed and you have the audacity to speak that way to me after I save your life!?â
And before you can say a word, he brings his mouth down on yours in a bruising kiss.
His tongue sweeps past your lips, seeking out yours, demanding and hungry. Your response is reflexive and instinctive, your lips parting, tongue meeting his. You return his kiss, even though youâre still a little mad at him and heâs maybe still a little mad at you. But his mouth loses that hard edge as you kiss him back, his touch turning softer, more tender, but still urgent and wanting.
âDo not scare me like that ever again,â he murmurs against your lips, kissing you in between words, each pause punctuated by the soft caress of his lips, the silky warmth of his tongue. âDo you have any idea what youâve put me through?â
You are astonished and somewhat perplexed. âIâŠI didnât even know that youâŠthat you wanted thisââ
âDarling, I have thought of little else.â
His mouth covers yours again and you are drowning in the feeling of him. The cold that has settled in your bones is melting like snow in springtime. You move your hands along his shoulders, tentative at first, then a little braver. You thread your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and smooth it is. He deepens the kiss, his fingertips tracing the curve of your cheekbones.Â
Itâs dizzingly good and you want more. You need more. You arch against him in a clear invitation, reveling in how perfectly his body fits against yours. He sighs and presses back against you briefly before pulling away.
âYou should rest,â he says, his voice slightly strained. âYou experienced some very powerful magicâI donât want you to overexert yourself.â
âI wonât,â you say, tugging him back down to you. He allows this for a moment, his hands cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss with toe curling intensity.
And then he draws back.
âYou really do need to rest,â he says.
You shake your head. âI need you, Loki.â
His lips and tongue are just as insistent as yours when you pull him back into a kiss. You can feel him growing hard against your thigh and when you wrap your legs around his waist and rock your hips against him, he groans and nips at your lip before withdrawing again.
âDarling,â he says, his voice a little hoarse, like heâs barely holding himself back.
âI can stay on my back,â you say.
âAppealing as that is, youâre rather ignoring my point.â
âAnd youâre ignoring mine,â you say, rolling your hips again. His eyes close for a moment as he presses back against you, his hand sliding along your thigh. Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back down into a kiss that he returns without protest.
You catch his lower lip between your teeth and he sucks in a deep breath as he grinds his hips against you.
âPlease,â you breathe. âI need you so bad.â
He groans as he lowers his head to the column of your throat. âIâm trying to keep you safe and youâre tempting me like this.â
âTouch me and tell me I need to rest more than I need you.â
Itâs a bold thing to say and your heart pounds with anticipation as you feel him nip at your collarbone. His hand pauses at your hip, so close to where you need him. You wait a moment and then take his hand in yours and guide it underneath your waistband and between your legs. He lifts his head, gaze snapping to yours and the moment that his fingers graze your slickness, you know that youâve won.
âOh, youâre dripping,â he says, his voice dropping and his eyes darkening with lust as his fingers swipe across your clit.
Youâre tempted to tell him that you told him so, but this still feels so fragile and tenuous that you settle for a more flattering truth: âLoki, I need you.â
âDo you have any idea what youâre doing to me?â He shifts on top of you so that you feel the hard press of his cock against your hip.
âSame thing that youâre doing to me,â you say. âWhich is why I need you to fuck me.â
He sighs, but his fingers donât stop moving. âYou really ought to rest.â
âI can stay on my back,â you say. âYou can take me really slowly and gently. Think about how good that will feel.â
âDarling,â he says. You can see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes and you know that youâve almost won. You feel your orgasm starting to coil like a snake in your belly and you moan, rocking your hips with his hand.
âLoki.â You lick your lips. âDonât you want to feel me come on your cock?â
You know the exact moment he gives inâyou see it in his eyes. Less than a second later, heâs sliding one long finger inside of you and curling it just right.
âNot before I finish what I started.â His voice is a low growl.
âYes,â you breathe, letting your head tip back against the pillow. âGod, that feels so good.â
âI can feel you trembling,â he says, his voice rough. âAre you going to come for me already? Iâve barely touched you.â
âI told you: I need you,â you say.
He raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening in a very attractive way. âYouâre not getting pert with me, are you?â
Thereâs a particular tone to his voice, a sternness that makes you shiver. Something to explore later, perhapsâright now, you need him too badly to play games.
âNo, just trying to emphasize that I need you.â
âAre you really that desperate for me? Do you really need me that much? Surely you could touch yourself, surely you donât need me that badly.â
You know that heâs saying that to amp you up, to tease you. But you are also so desperate to come that the idea of not having him is beyond comprehension.
âI do,â you say, a bit of desperate note making its way into your voice. âI need you, Loki, I need to come for you, need you to fuck me, please donât make me wait, please, please, pleaseââ
He stops your mouth with a kiss as he eases a second finger inside of you. âIâm going to take care of you, sweet thing,â he says as you gasp at the stretch.Â
His fingers are curling inside of you, his thumb working your clit in small, tight circles that are pushing you closer and closer to the edge as a fantastic pressure builds inside of you.
âOh, thatâs it.â His eyes are dark, pupils wide and lust-blown. âI can feel how close you are.â He brings his lips to your ear. âCome for me and then Iâll fuck you properly.â
Your breath hitches as you reach your peak. âOh godâIâfuck, Iâm coming, Iâmââ
Your voice cuts out as you come, pure pleasure blooming low in your hips, your back arching against the mattress as Loki works you through it, murmuring soft encouragement as he watches you shake in his arms.
âYouâre beautiful when you come undone,â he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. âUtterly stunning.â
You fumble for the waistband of his pants, your fingers slipping over the fastenings. âI need you,â you say, tugging at the fabric.
His mouth curls into a smile, his eyes dancing with mischief. âAre you quite certain?â
Leather yields to warm skin and you slide your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He inhales sharply as you stroke him, his eyes turning dark.
âYouâre presenting a very compelling argument,â he says.
âThink about how good youâll feel inside of me,â you say, gently increasing the pressure on his shaft as you move your hand.
âNorns, woman.â But heâs rolling on top of you as he says this and sliding his pants off his hips. He pauses briefly to divest you of your pants and underwear. A shiver works through you during the brief moment when your bare skin is exposed to the chill of the roomâŠand he notices right away, hesitating slightly as his brow furrows in concern.
âDon't you dare stop,â you say. âI donât care if I get hypothermia and die, I will straight up implode if you donât fuck me right now.â
He chuckles, pulling more blankets around the two of you as he settles himself between your thighs. âAre you always so demanding?â
âLook, youâve been teasing me for the last twenty minutes and youâve been strutting around in those fucking leather pants for a lot longer, so forgive me if Iâm a little impatient.â
He pauses above you, his expression deadly serious. âLet's get one thing quite clear, my love: I do not strut.â
Thereâs a glimmer in his eyes and you smirk back at him. âYou totally do.â
He lines up the tip of his cock with your entrance. âI walk with the gravitas and stature appropriate to my station.â
âYou strut and I know you strut because itâs extremely distracting.â
His smile is sly. âTell me more about how I distract you.â
âYou make me think about doing this with you.â
The tip of his cock eases into you. âDo I? How often, would you say?â
âAll the time.â
He sinks in another inch. âAll the time?â
âMmmhm.â
One more inch. âThat does sound terribly distracting.â
âYouâre still trying to tease me,â you say and he grins and gives you another inch.
âYou wouldnât want me as much if I didnât.â
âIâd want you always, no matter what.â
His gaze turns serious and he leans into kiss you, his hands stroking your cheek as he sinks into you fully, all the way to the hilt. You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, your legs wrapping around his waist to hold him even closer. Heâs still for a moment, his eyes shut.
He opens them.
âIâve waited so long to have you,â he murmurs.
âYou have me,â you say. âYou always have.â
He kisses you deeply as he starts moving, slow as honey, sweetness in every thrust of his hips or touch of his lips. He fills you in a way that youâve never experienced, his cock bumping up against that tender place inside you, making you gasp and pull him deeper.Â
It builds slowly and steadily, the muscles of your cunt tightening as he takes you higher. You shudder as your climax builds.
âThatâs it, my love,â he breathes. âThatâs it.â
You inhale sharply, your orgasm swelling within you, rising, about to pull you under. You ride that wave, your hips rocking with his. You try and hold on for as long as you can because he feels so good and you donât want it to end, but eventually, it becomes too much.
You keen and he kisses you. âCome for me, darling. Let me feel you come.â
Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and all your muscles tense and release as you come. Loki sucks in a sharp breath, brow furrowing.
âFuck.â His pace increases slightly. âYouâre divine.â
Less than a second later, heâs also unraveling, his expression of ecstasy particularly beautiful in the flickering firelight. Even in the hazy afterglow of your own pleasure, you canât help but stare at him, utterly spellbound.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you deeply and slows to a halt, his cock still throbbing inside of you.
âI donât want to say I told you soââ you start.
âThatâs a lie.â His reply is prompt and accompanied by another deep kiss.
You smile against his lips. âOkay, maybe I did want to say I told you so.â
âBetter.â
You feel pleasantly loose and sleepy, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. He seems to notice your fatigue and raises an eyebrow. âIs this the part where I say I told you so?â he asks as he slowly eases out of you.
âMmm, but it was so worth it,â you say. âSo Iâm basically right.â
âThatâs not how that works,â he says.
âIâm not listening to you,â you say. âI need to recover my strength.â
âNow youâre just being pert.â He shifts to his side and draws you close so heâs spooned up against your back.
âYou like it,â you say, barely stifling a yawn.
âMmm, I do,â he says, drawing the pile of blankets back over you both. âAre you warm enough?â
âYeah, but donât go anywhere.â
You feel him smile as he presses a kiss against the back of your neck. âI donât intend to.â
âGood.â
You both fall asleep like this, wrapped around each other, warm and safe from the storm outside.
A mishap on a mission, rivals that don't hate each other as much as they pretend to, and a well meaning visit to the god of mischief's door that brings about something you never expected. [18+. Sex pollen/aphrodisiac fic. 6.2K. Re-uploaded from my old blog.]
It starts with an argument.Â
With you and him hissing insults and bickering like children over who's more suited for such a high stakes mission. With your hands itching to bury deep into ink spilled curls, if only to yank his face back from where it's obnoxiously tilted close to yours and watch those mocking, glacial eyes widen in shock.Â
You had put the work in, assembled all the information and hunted relentlessly for the location of the weapons lab only for him to sweep in at the last moment and use mortality against you. It's an excuse that strikes a dangerous match in your blood, heats your skin to an unhealthy temperature whilst your eyes narrow to vicious slits.
"You mortals are frail and weak, too easily breakable. I'm obviously a much better choice, what could their feeble minds possibly create that will harm a god."Â
It makes you nearly scream that the others vote in his favour. Rage, ugly and knotted, sticking in your chest at the insinuation you should be seen as fragile when you've fought for years among advanced tech suits, super soldiers, master assassins and an indefinitely more likeable god.
You're not proud of the way it burns at you, that it plucks at some pitiful insecure string you've tried to bury by pushing yourself harder, always harder.Â
He's made you feel like you're not good enough to be here despite all you've done and it gathers petty venom on your tongue faster than you can blink.Â
"Don't come crying to me when you fuck up, I'll be here waiting to laugh in your face when the shit they're packing knocks you of your pedestal."
The words are sharp and scathing, spat over your shoulder before you're storming out and leaving everyone to stare after you.Â
You miss the arrogant smirk falter on his lips the moment you're gone.Â
**Â
Guilt comes to you swiftly.Â
You didn't really mean what you said, you hope he succeeds, people's lives count on it and deep down you even hope that he's right and in no real danger.Â
It's not like you to lose your temper and be so petulant. It really isn't.Â
It's just Loki.Â
He's rubbed you the wrong way from the moment you met. His arrogance, his patronising drawl and insatiable need to get under your skin, bringing something immature and half feral out of you without fail.Â
Before him you didn't know what it was like to hate someone, to have someone manipulate every nerve you have with lithe fingers until there's flames in your blood and violence in your eyes.Â
It irritates you more that he's so fucking pretty, that his body looks like it's been carved from marble in an artist's quest for divine perfection, and that you'd been attracted to him almost immediately until he'd opened that poisoned mouth of his.Â
And unfortunately there's still moments where it snags at you like hooks in your skin, where it feels like you could give in to the temptation to claw and sink your teeth into him as he pounds you so fucking hard you see galaxies.Â
You feel it when he's pressed, hard and unforgiving, against the soft give of your body. When you've managed to incense him to the point he's prowled towards you, anger cracking in his eyes like chipped shards of ice, until your back has hit a solid surface for him to crowd you up against.Â
It's then that the energy between you snaps raw - hits it's most volatile like it's gathering itself to an explosive peak. You both linger in it, let the moment seep thick in the heat until it edges along the line of pain.Â
But then someone always eventually draws away and you wonder if there's a dark pit, a chasm of unknown want, in his stomach like there is in yours whenever you do. Â
**Â
When Natasha appears at your door the first thing you think is that she's come to talk about before. You know she sees more than most people and she's always sneaking subtle questions into your conversations about the God of mischief.Â
The second thing you think is that the universe must fucking hate you and your previous guilt had obviously not been enough to make up for your behaviour.Â
"You're needed in the lab, they need what you know on the bio weapons made in that place - Loki's been hit with something."Â
"Hit with what?"Â
"He said it was some kind of dart."Â
"Did he say what the liquid looked like? Was it blue or purple?"Â
"Blue I think, why?"Â
Shit.
**
"Good news, he's not going to die a horrific, agonising death from his systems shutting down one by one."Â
"And the bad news?" Thor grimaces, his brow heavy with concern and thick arms folded over his chest as he peers at you.
"He could possibly die of⊠something else." You wince, feeling the awkwardness of embarrassment flooding your tongue. "The thing he's been injected with is an aphrodisiac, a really fucking strong one, they basically manipulated it to cause as much pain and discomfort as they could to make victims more pliant to what they wanted."Â
Thor stares at you for a long moment, face blank whilst you watch him working over the information you've given him, then suddenly he blinks, once, twice.Â
"You're saying Loki needs to fuck someone or he'll die?"Â
"Possibly, I'm notâ I'm not one hundred percent sure, okay." You sigh. "That's what happened when someone human was injected, your brother is a god. The effects could be differentâ milder maybe."Â
"So there's a chance he could be fine?"
"Yeah but I'm not a scientist or a doctor, he should really get⊠checked...out. Waitâ Thor, where the hell is he?"Â
You hadn't even had a chance until now to notice the presence of a huffy, irate raven haired god was missing from the situation.Â
His brother had practically snatched you up as you'd ran towards the lab, his face panicked as he'd word vomited a thousand and one questions about the drug, its effects and the danger it posed to Loki.Â
But as you peer around the suddenly quiet god of thunder now, there is definitely a rather worrying absence - the lab empty besides the doctor.Â
"Oh, he's in his room." Thor confesses awkwardly, one of his large hands scratching at the the back of his neck whilst he offers you a sheepish smile. "I tried to bring him here but he was somewhat violently against it, he threatened to stab me again."Â
You snort.Â
Of course he did, the overgrown fucking child.Â
Trust Loki to be injected with a lethal substance and rather than be monitored for potential risks to his health he'd prefer to pout in his room.Â
"Thor, someone needs to go there and bring him down - this is serious."Â
He grins then, charming and radiant, and god help you because you know it's coming, both of you fully aware of the soft spot you have for your blonde Asgardian friend and the fact you can't say no when he asks you for something so politely.Â
"I think my presence will do nothing more than irritate him further." He says, soft ocean blue eyes pleading at you. "Maybe you can go and try and lure him out? He's always more easily persuaded when it comes to you."Â
Highly fucking doubt it, you want to scoff at him. If anything the mere sight of you is enough to set Loki off on a tangent.Â
But he's staring at you all hopeful and sweet and there's nothing you can do but curse these two gods that have clearly been sent to be twin pains in your life.Â
"Fine." You grit instead.Â
**
You're not sure how long you pace outside the door before he calls to you.Â
Long enough that he berates you for trying to wear a hole through the floor, his voice dripping in amusement and a tinge of something rough that your mind doesn't register until it's too late.Â
He's the epitome of composure when you slip inside his room, causing you to frown as you narrow your eyes and scan the length of his body.Â
He's still in full leathers, his legs stretched across his bed and ankles locked whilst he leans back regally against the headboard.Â
There's something you can't put your finger on though, something not right about how he looks, not even a hair out of place or a scratch on his leathers to say he'd just returned from a mission.Â
It's almost too perfect.Â
"Come to laugh in my face, have you darling?" He drawls, smirking when your eyes snap to his face. "It's a shame then I must tell you I'm perfectly fine."Â
"They told me you'd been injected with something." You say quietly, gaze still searching for something out of place whilst you edge closer.Â
"Ah and you thought you'd come and witness my suffering did you? Thought you'd see a god brought to his knees by some mortal drug? Apologies for the disappointment."Â
You shake your head and stare at him in disbelief. "Loki no." You argue softly. "I came to bring you to the lab, the drug you've been injected with could seriously harm you, you need to be tested and kept under observation."Â
He scoffs, a petulant thing as he rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. "I take it my brother sent you in hopes a pretty face would sway me. I will tell you like I told him, I am fine, I have no need of your doctors."Â
His voice tries for nonchalance, arrogance even, but there's an underlying coldness you detect that seems unwarranted and leaves you feeling frustrated.Â
"Why are you being so unreasonably stubborn." You grit, your hands curling to fists on top of your hips whilst you stride towards the bed and glower down at him. "We're only trying to help you, how about you try being grateful."
"Why are you being so irritatingly stupid." He spits back. Long legs swing gracefully off the bed and land either side of yours, the blue of his eyes pulsing dark as his lips pull back and bare teeth. "I do not need your help, I do not need some silly little midgardian doctors poking and prodding at me whilst I'm expected to just lie there vulnerable."Â
Oh.Â
Oh fuck, you have been stupid.Â
Shortly after the arrival of his brother, Thor had filled you all in on some Loki's history. Told you quietly, guiltily, that whilst he wasn't completely innocent of the deeds he'd committed, they hadn't been entirely his doing either.Â
It had been enough to make you shudder, for sympathy to bloom in your heart despite everything, at the thought of the kind of torture that would have to be inflicted upon a god to make him crumble to another's will.Â
Of course he would be wary of someone wanting to draw bloods and hook him to machines and do any other tests they had in mind. Of course it would bring back terrible memories for him. You feel wretched for not understanding sooner, your eyes softening and the frustration bleeding from your body quicker than it had arrived.Â
"No one is going to hurt you Loki." You murmur gently, letting his gaze narrow to suspicious slits as he searches your words and face for the barest hint of a lie. "We just want to make sure you're okay, that's all, I promise."Â
His eyes widen for a moment, expression faltering to something raw and unguarded whilst he stares up at you and your fingers twitch with urge to run themselves along his jaw, over his cheek and through the soft looking curls of his hair in some surprising need to offer comfort.Â
But then he shutters. His expression turns mischievous and haughty and you can practically sense the sarcastic quip of his tongue before he's even opening his mouth.Â
"Worried about me, are you darling?" He arches a dark brow, lips quirking into a smug grin. "I must confess I like seeing you all bothered about me like this."Â
You go to tell him to fuck off, go to spin on your heel and march down to the lab and declare that he's absolutely fine, just peachy, his usual rage inducing self.Â
But then your eyes flick up on a whim and see the sweat beading along his hairline, dampening the finer hairs and slicking them to his skin.Â
That isn't right.
You've seen this man fight, witnessed him slice through countless enemies without so much as a stilted huff of breath let alone physically breaking a sweat. It's something he practically prides himself on, ridiculing you for looking like a dishevelled mess whenever you emerge from battle after him.Â
The next move you make is on reflex, a common habit that you resort to without thought.Â
You lift the palm of your hand to his forehead to check his temperature, your skin already grazing his before you register his panicked âstopâdon't!â and your mind is only capable of offering one thought before the world is suddenly swept out from beneath your feet.Â
The typically cold skinned god is blisteringly hot.
Loki snarls the second your hand makes full contact and there's a sudden pulse of energy that ripples through the air, stealing your breath and tingling along your skin. You don't realise what it is until he's grabbed you and caged you beneath him.Â
Magic. More specifically, an illusion.Â
He's definitely not fine.Â
He's panting and shaking, his arms trembling whilst he hovers over you, face shiny with sweat and cheeks flushed fever pink. When he peers down at you, you inhale sharply, the blue of his eyes has all but gone - swallowed whole by the hungry expanse of his pupils.
"Loki." You whisper and a violent shudder racks his already taut body, the movement dragging your eyes lower before they snap back to his face as you let out a startled squeak.Â
His illusion had hid more than you'd been able to realise before he'd tossed you on the bed and now the image of him half naked, in nothing but unlaced leather pants that are doing a poor job of concealing the large outline of his cock, is burned into your brain - even as you close your eyes and take a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart.Â
Your squeak seems to snap him out of the lustful haze he's in however, a shocked slash of clarity in his eyes when yours flicker back open and pain streaking across his face like it hurts him to drag himself from your body when he pushes away and rocks back on his heels.Â
"I'm sorryâ fuckâ I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." He gasps and he looks so genuinely distraught that you almost reach for him again, only snatching your hand back when his eyes dart to it's approach and he flinches.Â
"It's alright Loki, I'm okay." You soothe, concerned. "I want to help you if you'll let me, just tell me how."Â
He laughs then, something croaked and hollow, and removes the heels of his palms from his eyes to stare you down in a way that is mildly flustering.Â
"You shouldn't ask me that." He husks. "The things I want - if you knew - you wouldn't ask me that."Â
Well fuck. You hadn't meant it like that, you'd been thinking along the lines of taking him for medical help or running to get his brother.
But now-Â Â
There's something about the way he says it, the way he looks saying it, the heat that slips back into his eyes as he mentions wanting, that makes you very much need to know.Â
It makes your stomach twist in an intense way, a wicked pang of heat spearing through your belly, the beginnings of a fierce craving, and the words are out of your mouth before you can shove your hand against your lips to stop them.Â
"Tell me what you want, Iâll do it."Â
He glares at you then, twin shocks of piercing blue glowing from beneath the sweat-damp of his curling hair, nostrils flaring as if you're truly testing the limits of his patience. His head has dipped low, long fingers twisting themselves in the strewn bed sheets in an effort to ground himself as another cruel tremor sweeps through him. Â
"What I want." He seethes after it recedes, tossing his head back to pin you with a furious look. "I will not take from you, not like this."Â
"Why not?" You push yourself up, confused, and he hastily shifts back, keeping a safe distance between you whilst anger and frustration crawls across his face.
"Because when I take you I want it to be because you want it." He snarls. "Not because of some warped sense of duty or self sacrifice that you and the rest of your idiotic team consider heroic."Â
It's endearing, if not more than a little insulting.Â
You're heart beats a little faster at the fact he's thought about fucking you, fluttering wildly behind your ribs because he seems to want you just as much as you want him.Â
But the insinuation you'd only be with him because it's your job to save people brings a type of rage thrumming through your blood that only Loki has ever been capable of summoning.Â
"You think I'd fuck you just because it might save your life? That I'd offer myself to you so intimately just so I could get for a fucking pat on the back for helping you?" You spit, offended. "I thought gods were supposed to be smart, or is it just you that is this extraordinarily stupid."Â
The situation feels familiar now, the two of you forgetting everything to return to spewing insults and barbs at each other because neither of you know how to deal with the sticky truth, the undeniable hope that the other one might feel the same.Â
And for a moment it works.Â
It distracts Loki from his pain, from his reluctance to be close to you, touching you, and in one swift move, he lunges. Knocks you back against the mattress and buries you beneath the weight of his powerful body.
"Careful with that mouth, darling." He taunts, dragging his nose across the curve of your cheek before savage eyes lock on yours. "Or I might be tempted to find something other than your poisonous words to fill it.Â
You don't rise to his baiting like you typically would, don't hiss and claw at him like a scorned cat because he's too close and his touch is an wholly unwanted offence on your skin.
Instead you do something infinitely worse.
You shock him.Â
You say his name, soft as silk, legs parting to make room for him to sink against you and his eyes blow wide - stunned like he can't quite believe you're real and inviting him to cover you entirely, to wrap himself around you like ivy, without an ounce of disgust.Â
"That's what I want."
**
He groans ragged like you've wounded him, like you've shoved your hand through his chest and yanked at something vital.Â
His hips lurch up subconsciously against yours and oh, it's enough to make your mouth run dry. The quick glimpse of him you'd had is nothing compared to the feel of him pushing against you.Â
It makes the tension bloat, electricity crackling upon your skin and you don't know how he isn't half mad with the drug when you feel like you could combust just from this alone.Â
He makes a rough, desperate sound in the back of his throat when you wrap your legs around him, eyes burning pitch black and starved as he trails his nose along the side of your face and growls.
"Darlingâperfect little thingâ tell me to stop. I can'tâ tell me this isn't what you really want."Â
You remove your hands from their bone knuckled grip on his arms, cradling the sharp lines of his jaw and pulling him down to where his lips just ghost over your own.
"I want you, Loki." You murmur. "Let me make it better, let me give you what you need."Â
He snaps then, lunges forward and claims your mouth in a punishing kiss, drinking you in so deep that you can barely breathe but you'll gladly suffocate before you even think of asking him to ease up.Â
You've never been kissed like this before, with such brutal demand and unyielding need that you could split apart at the seams from the raw heat of it all.Â
You tangle your hands something fierce into the silken depths of his hair, give a sharp tug when he scores the pillow of your lip with his teeth before drawing the tender flesh into his mouth like he wants nothing more than to mark you everywhere and with every part of him.Â
The pull of his hair draws an inhuman snarl from his chest and his hands turn to steel upon your thighs, fingers sinking in deep and wrenching your legs apart so his hips can slam against your cunt.Â
"Loki." You gasp, his name turning to a choked moan on your tongue as he licks and bites at your throat, teeth bared against the flushed skin in a terribly smug grin that you cannot bring yourself to huff about.
"That's it pet - say my name - let me hear how good I make you feel." He purrs.Â
You push at him then, push for control and to take advantage of his distraction so you can flip him on his back and fuck, he looks almost criminally good beneath you. Eyes startled, his lips parted in shock before they spread into a sharp, feral grin.Â
It's impossible to resist falling back into him, sweeping your tongue into his mouth when he catches you against his chest and swallowing the moans that pour from his lips to yours whilst you circle your hips relentlessly over the thick of him.Â
He likes constantly being touched, you've realised, craves it, yields to it, a soft note of disappointment always slipping through his gritted teeth when you remove any part of yourself.Â
So you touch him everywhere.
Your hips remain fused to his and your hands never cease roaming, scratching and tracing every ridge and dip of his body whilst you kiss, nip and lick at him until he's a whimpering mess beneath you.Â
You slip down the length of his body when it seems like he'll fracture if you take your time with him any longer, gentle hands peeling the leather of his trousers back and down, releasing his cock and wrapping your fingers around the thick weight.
He hisses at the contact, body going rigid and jackknifing from the bed as your thumb grazes up over the leaking head and you begin to stroke him. He croaks out your name like it's a plea to the heavens, his breath falling to ragged pants when you drag your tongue across the slit of his cock before sinking your mouth down onto his length.
"Fuck." He snarls.Â
You waste no time teasing him, swallowing him deep into your throat and sucking hard, tongue sliding over the thick vein running underneath as he throbs and his hips stammer against your face.Â
There's words, curses you think, in a language you don't understand falling rapidly from his lips and when your eyes flick up to him his are screwed shut, his head thrown back against the pillows, neck beautifully bared and his fingers wound so tight in the bedsheets it's only a matter of time before you hear them shred.Â
His eyes snap open to stare at you when you hum in approval around him, his lips parting and a hand shooting out to tangle in your hair. He looks wrecked and it does something indescribable to your chest, your pride, when he chokes.Â
"Please."Â
You hum around him again and he loses his composure entirely, fisting your hair tight and rocking his hips hard and fast into the welcoming heat of your mouth. You gag slightly at the assault on your throat, thighs clenching as he hisses through his teeth at the feel of it.
You were dripping just watching him like this, every nerve alight and desperate for his touch, thighs shifting again for some kind of friction and this time, Loki notices.Â
"You like this don't you, pet?" He grunts. "Fuck, I can smell you - needy little thing - let me help."Â
From the corner of your eye you catch a faint glow of green and then you jolt. Lashes fluttering as you moan, helplessly overwhelmed, around his cock.
There's a pressure, some kind of energy, swirling at your cunt, the feeling of tight circles being rapidly drawn over your swollen clit driving you mad, as if he's actually dipped his own fingers inside your pants and was skillfully touching you to ruin.Â
It's so much. His cock driving into your mouth whilst his magic thrums relentlessly against you. Your eyes roll back when he slows this thrusts, matching his pace to that of the phantom fingers plunging inside your walls.Â
"That's it, darling." He praises breathlessly when you whine around him, eyes never leaving your face. "Want to feel you cum just like this. Taking both my cock and my seidr so well, fucking filthy little thing."Â
His words strike a match that ignites something cataclysmic in your gut and you're done for. Your orgasm is cresting without hesitance, barreling towards you unapologetically fast until the muscles of your belly clench tight, the intensity making your head spin until your shuddering and moaning around his cock.
It tears a sound you've never heard in your life from Loki, something raw and wounded and so utterly blissed out shoves it's way out of his throat and then his fingers are curling almost painfully tight, yanking you down to the base of his cock as he pulses and spills hot on your tongue.Â
You swallow him down the best you can before his hands are clawing at your arms, hauling you up to his chest so he can bring his frenzied mouth to yours whilst he trembles.Â
"More." He bites out.Â
**
Pleasure makes him burn possessive.Â
It makes him roll you over and crush you with him, cage you with his body as his teeth carve marks into your skin and usually talented hands rip clumsily at your pants. Â
You choke on a half shriek, half moan as he stuffs you full of his fingers - spears you open and strokes you to madness, his voice a dark, lustful whisper snaking in your ear.Â
"So fucking tight, darling girl - bet that sweet little cunt looks so pretty stretched out on my fingers - be a good girl and cum for me again - cum for me and I'll give you my cock."Â
God yes, you need it. You'll go fucking insane if you don't.
You think he will break you just like this, that heâll pull another lightening sharp orgasm from you with his fingers alone, but then he's suddenly drawing them from your slick warmth. Ignoring your frustrated whine to shred the clothes from your body as if they are nothing more than paper and pressing the broad width of his shoulders between your thighs.
He shoves his face into your cunt before you can fully recover from what the sight of him between your legs does to your ego, drives his tongue through the evidence of your previous release and swallows it down with a gut wrenching moan of satisfaction.Â
It is both worshipful and humbling.
He lays himself at your mercy like you are divine only to remind you that he can have you pleading and praying with a mere flick of his tongue. His fingers curling back into you whilst he seals his lips around your throbbing clit and sucks, making you buck wildly into his grinning mouth as you cry out and rake your nails across his scalp in a way that has him shuddering.Â
It's rabid and feral the way he eats at you, tongue swirling wet and messy over your clit and his fingers twisting to reach a spot that has your body caving in on itself.
He thrusts knuckle deep until you're wailing. Hiccuping his name as the orgasm builds in your belly with terrifying velocity and then he's nipping at you just a little bit sharply with his teeth, offering that hint of pain that makes the pleasure burn darker, wilder, than it ever has before.Â
You arch from the bed with a breathless, wounded sound, unable to scream, unravelling magnificently as he groans and licks you through your orgasm like a man that has known nothing but starvation his entire life.Â
And when it has all plateaued there is nothing left but an unrepentant desire to have him entirely when he slithers back up your body, sharp features endearingly pleased and his pretty mouth still shining with your release as he pushes you back into the bed and slides his cock teasingly against your wet cunt.Â
You go boneless. Pliant in a way that feels like exquisite submission, that threatens to drive Loki wild. Â
Your legs part wide for him, pussy fluttering, still pulsing with aftershocks whilst he catches at your entrance and then he's pushing inside you, a guttural moan bubbling past his throat, and the blunt stretch is so fucking good that you can't breathe. So right that your mind reels with it.
He drops to kiss you as you struggle to keep your sanity, nose nudging softly, adoringly, against your own, and when he pulls back his eyes are striking. Endless pools of crystalised blue blown wide with reverence. With deep seated hunger ready to devour you whole.
You both groan as he presses the final inches inside you.Â
Your legs weave around his waist so you can take him deeper and he inhales sharply, yanking himself out of you until only the thick head of his cock remains. You wonder dazedly if maybe he intends it to be a punishment, that maybe his old smugness is more intact than you thought and he intends you to beg for it, but then he's snapping back into you with a rough cant of his hips that almost winds you, splits you open with a deliciousness that has you gasping.
"Oh my godâ" You whimper and it's like any semblance of restraint he was still valiantly clinging to evaporates as his entire body trembles. âLokiâyou feel soâfuckââ
He buries you beneath him, snares his hand into the locks of your hair and sinks his teeth into your throat whilst he rolls his hips, grinds them in a maddening push and pull, pressing in so fucking close as if he wishes to never leave you at all.
It's like he's lost to the sensation of you, the tight warmth of your cunt and the praise that pours from your lips whilst he chases that frantic need to be sunk deep over and over.Â
âI can'tâI can't go easy on youâI'm sorry.â There is strain in his voice now, a lovely tortured tone, as if he was losing his head completely.Â
You cling to him desperately. Nails scoring crimson lines and small crescen moon marks into the milk pale skin of his shoulders as he fucks you like he wants you to splinter, like he wants you in pieces so he can burrow among your bones and make himself a home inside you.Â
He reels back suddenly, bunches his knees beneath your ass and pulls himself upright. You want to protest the loss of him but then he's grabbing your legs, hitching them higher until they're slung over his shoulders and using your thighs as an anchor to ram himself deeper, so he can punch up into the heart of you.
It's almost too much when his fingers slip to where you're joined, when he touches you, quick and unrelenting, until the pleasure is so intense there are tears of bliss gathering at the corners of your eyes.Â
It's almost too much when he stares at you like he's completely enamoured and reaches for your face, thumbing away a stray tear before it can slip fully down your cheek with a tenderness that threatens to crack you open. You're whimpering, pleading with him to kiss you, to make you cum, to feel him cum inside you, and the noise he makes in retaliation is low, hungered.
"Pretty little thing, you need to cum? You want me to fill you up?" He rasps - wicked and dripping with a dark shade of longing. He tilts his hips, angles himself so his next thrust plunges into that part of you that makes your cunt spasm and a loud wail tear from your lips. "Fuck - go ahead, let me feel it, let everyone hear you make a mess all over my cock."Â
His name claws out of your throat on a broken cry, the sound of it jagged, ruined, as every muscle in your body locks up tight until you're violently trembling, bursting wet around him, and everything becomes a scatter of pure pleasure and dizzying bursts of radiant light.Â
It takes only moments before the same sensation hunts him so closely. Your cunt gripping him tighter, milking him, until he's snarling a punched out curse. The rising crescendo of slapping skin suddenly faltering as his deliberate pace becomes a frantic, savage thing.Â
"That's it darling - my pretty little goddess - beautiful thing, all mine."Â He praises before he chokes, folding himself over you and claiming your lips in a messy kiss. Devouring your mouth as you broke and broke and broke.
He ensures you are shattered entirely and only then does he allow his own devastation. His breath stuttering, voice shredding, body convulsing as he fucks you through it and growls your name, spilling, hot and deep, inside you.
**
It goes on for hours.
Until the desperation has bled from his veins and his skin has cooled to a normal temperature.
It's deep into the night when the two of you finally collapse into the sheets exhausted, the cool press of his body tangled with yours a blissful relief to both your mind and the flushed heat of your own sticky skin.Â
Every inch of you is raw - littered in marks from his fingers and teeth, the phantom stretch of him still making you ache.
Loki holds you tight to him, draws you close against the sharp rise and fall of his chest and cradles your head like you're something infinitely precious.Â
He doesn't speak though and you have a feeling his mind is struggling to process the sudden leap in the relationship between you, picking it apart and trying to discover what this makes you to him.Â
The silence blisters and pricks at you until you can't handle it any longer and you blurt out the first thing that comes to your pleasure-addled brain.
"Well⊠good to know you're not going to die."Â
His chest shakes lightly under your cheek and you realise he's chuckling, a soft, light sound slipping from his lips that you don't think you've ever heard from him.Â
"That drug was never going to kill a god." He scoffs, trailing feather light fingertips down your arm. "But I can see how it would be dangerous for mortals, which is precisely why I insisted on taking your place."Â
Waitâ
What.Â
You lurch up and twist in his hold to look at him, his eyes, guarded and hesitant, as he watches you and attempts to gauge your reaction.Â
"You took my place to protect me?" You whisper, inhaling a sharp breath he nods.Â
There's something blooming in your chest, something you don't want to look at too closely so soon, something that bloomed also when he called you his. But as soft as his gesture makes you, it also bothers another part of you, the part of you that is an avenger and more than capable of dealing with dangerous situations.Â
You tell him as much and he grumbles.Â
Something along the lines of. "Do you really expect me to stand by and let something happen to you if I can prevent it? I don't want to see you hurt and mortals are so -"Â
He doesn't get to finish before you're planting your hands firm against his cool chest and growling. "If you say fragile or weak, I swear I will ruin this otherwise sweet moment and punch you in that perfect face."Â
His eyes narrow, glinting dark and tempting, and his voice drops to a wisp of coiling smoke.
"You can try, darling."Â
God, is he really trying to seduce you again.Â
"Stop trying to distract me." You swat at him angrily. "Next time just come along and work the mission with me, don't get me taken off. Deal?"Â
He watches you for a moment, arches a brow at the way you glare at him before huffing. "I suppose."Â
There's barely any time for you to grin smugly at your victory before he's hauling you down and rolling you beneath him, his razor sharp smile gleaming above you as his eyes pitch dark once more.Â
Warnings: smoking lol, mentions of a fight, possessive Loki, making up, does this qualify for hurt/comfort? it might
A/N: Loki forgets his manners when it comes to his darling but eh, I forgive him | divider credit: anitalenia
You were supposed to have quit but after yesterday, you found yourself out on the balcony alone; ignoring Starkâs party, smoking, lost deep in thought.
The events of yesterday? Loki and you got into a stupid fight.Â
Sometimes the two of you bickered but whatever went down yesterday was different. It was so much worse. Deplorable. Youâd never raised your voices at each other like that. For a moment you thought that was it, that youâd break up on the spot.Â
You were so pissed that you ended up grabbing your leather jacket and stormed out, just to put an end to the screaming. Walking down the street, you realized you still had a pack of cigarettes in your pocket so you thought screw it and lit one up. It seemed you were reverting back to your bad habits. Caught in the web of your old vices. But desperate times call for desperate measures so you refuse to condemn yourself for slipping up.
If Loki knew you were smoking again, itâd probably start another fight. You couldnât get yourself to care about it though when you hadnât even seen him today. Actually you hadnât seen him at all since your fight. When you got back to your place yesterday he wasnât there anymore.Â
Maybe he finally realized you werenât worth the trouble. Maybe you did break up yesterday. Shit.
To make matters worse you were supposed to be at the party together today. A sort of debut, going public with your relationship. Youâve done a pretty good job of keeping things low key so far â to the rest of the team it just looked like you were very close friends â however you both agreed it was time to stop hiding.Â
Now you had no idea where you stood. Would he even show up?
Sighing, you put out your cigarette and returned inside to the party. The loud music from the speakers enveloped you as you moved through the bustling crowd on your way to the bar. If Loki wasnât showing up, youâd find solace in the bottom of a glass.
âY/n, how about a dance?â One of Starkâs friends crossed your path. Youâd seen him at these parties before but you couldnât remember his name for the life of you.
You looked around. No Loki in sight still. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced a smile. âYou know what? Sure,âÂ
He beamed as he led you to the dance floor with your arms intertwined.Â
You hoped this would make you stop thinking about Loki. At least momentarily. You hated feeling this worried, this anxious. Unsure of what was going on with you two. It was torture.
That hope got shattered as soon as you arrived on the dance floor and the song changed to your song. You and Lokiâs song. The universe had a sick sense of humor. There was no chance youâd get him off your mind now. At all.
It was a slower song so Starkâs friend pulled you in close and you started slow dancing. You couldnât shake the feeling of how wrong it felt to be in the arms of someone other than Loki. You tried to appear as if you were enjoying yourself, in order to not offend this guy but really you felt miserable.
âSheâs with me,â Lokiâs voice sounded. Trust the god to sneak up on you out of nowhere.
Starkâs friend let go of you and cleared his throat awkwardly. You gave him an apologetic look. âIâll see you around,â He said before he walked away. You understood why. Lokiâs aura gave no room for arguing.
âHe can dream,â Loki muttered as he grabbed you, possessively pulling you close with his hand splayed over your lower back, making your breath hitch slightly. Your arms quickly snaked around his neck as he started to sway with you, the action as natural as breathing.
âI donât think you get to do that,â You said, slightly annoyed. Even though you were happy to be in Lokiâs arms, you still had your pride. He didnât get to just waltz in and pretend like everything was okay between you two. Hell, thereâs nothing you hate more than pretenses.
Loki chuckled. âYou are mine, are you not? Besides, who do you think requested this song?â
âI shouldâve known,â You sighed, shaking your head. But your resolve was quickly softening. He was trying. This was his contorted attempt to fix things. You pulled him closer.
âIâm sorry,â He whispered softly as he nuzzled your hair, âfor yesterday.â
âIâm sorry too.â You admitted. You were. Whatever happened yesterday, you never wanted a repeat of it. He probably didnât either.Â
âYou smell like smoke.â He mentioned disapprovingly as he lifted his head.
âYou smell like bad decisions.â You shot back, making him grin.
âNow, donât lie. I know you love this cologne.âÂ
âExactly,â You said as you placed your head on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. âI think weâre gonna have to talk it through beyond just saying sorry,â You pointed out.
âI agree but it can wait until later, can it not?â
He spun you around and pressed your back to his chest as he moved with you to the sensual beat. âLook, everyoneâs looking,â He whispered in your ear, amused. You blushed as you saw Nat and Wanda smirking at you and Tony raise his glass your way.
Loki turned you back around to face him. âCome on, come on, come on, before the momentâs gone,â He sang along to the song playfully, grinning as he kept swaying you. You rolled your eyes at his antics. âNumber one party anthem,â You sang along, unable to not smile too. He pulled you in for a sweet kiss and the room erupted into cheers.Â
Warnings: reader is kind of in denial, Bucky "back in my days" Barnes, Sam and Bucky meddling, big brother Thor teasing, miscommunication
A/N: Oops my fingers slipped now there's drama?? All this from some cuddling? Sheeshhhh guess we're not done yet. See you in part 3? | divider credit: anitalenia
Mission shenanigans part 1
Your mind feels like itâs going a thousand miles per hour after sleeping cuddled up with Loki and getting caught by Bucky and Sam. It almost makes it seem like you shouldâve opted to stay in your own damn bunk but itâs too late for regret now.Â
It was a one time thing. It doesnât matter. You and Loki have a complicated dynamic and youâre sure heâs not reading into things like you are right now â running through each and every past interaction with him, trying to piece together how this even happened and still coming up empty handed.
No. This is just some kind of mind game. He has some kind of motive. You bet heâll throw this back in your face when he needs something. This is leverage. It has to be.
âYou good?â Nat tilts her head at you from her seat as youâre grabbing a granola bar from the refresher/snack counter in the main area of the jet.
Bucky and Sam are at a table in the other corner with Bruce and Thor. Theyâre going over the new information that has come up about the mission during the night, but you donât have to worry about that right this second. Since youâre paired up with the two of them, theyâll just fill you in later. Possibly before or after bringing up this morning's incident.
From what youâve heard thereâs gonna be a bunch of walking involved to even get to the bad guysâ hideout. Plenty of time to get caught up and for them to be their usual annoying selves.
âIâm fine,â You smile at Nat, trying to mask your overthinking. It always shows on your face all too well. The downside of wearing your heart on your sleeve â there will be questions.
âMorning!â Loki walks into the main area of the jet wearing a huge grin. If you didnât know better youâd assume he got laid last night. But no. The two of you cuddled and now he looks like⊠that. Oh. Oh.
âActually I have to pee!â You announce quickly, a little too loud, dropping the granola bar back onto the counter. Nat raises her eyebrow at you as you slip out of the room in a haste, unwilling to stick around to find out if you drew attention to yourself or to see Lokiâs reaction to your outburst.
Yeah. Great way to play it cool. Way to go. And now you're out of a granola bar. You think as you groan to yourself, hiding in the hallway, leaning against the wall.Â
And then Loki's there too.Â
âYou forgot your beloved oats,â He holds out the granola bar and the slight smirk on his face tells you, he definitely knows you left the main area because of him.
You snatch the bar from his hand. âI actually did have to pee,â You insist. Like hell you're admitting the truth to him. You're not even going to admit it to yourself.
âOh, I'm sorry, were you planning to do that here? In the hallway?âÂ
You glare at him and walk to the bathroom. It's hard to believe you were cuddled up in bed with him a few minutes ago.
You shut yourself in the toilet and munch on your granola bar. As far as pathetic goes, this has to be it and this mission isnât even close to over. How the hell are you going to deal with Loki for the remainder of it?Â
â
Of course, the day only seems to get worse when you land and Sam announces heâs gonna hike with Loki and Thor, doing a piss poor job of keeping his plotting smile at bay. He was supposed to be with you and Bucky.Â
You give him a glare but say nothing, however you will remember this. Nobody else seems to pick up on the strangeness of Sam switching groups at the last possible minute or if they do, they don't comment on it. The team then splits into three groups. Nat and Bruce head one way, the three amigos the other, while youâre now hiking through the overgrown forest with just Bucky as your companion.Â
You swat at the mosquitos, making your way between the branches of trees and then finally find some semblance of a path where you donât have to duck every two seconds.Â
Bad guys sure do love to pick the worst hideouts. Why is it never something nice? Like a hot island where you could go for a dip.
âSo⊠you and LokiâŠâ Bucky breaks the silence, after youâve been walking for a few minutes.
And there it is. You hope the ground will swallow you whole. âBucky.â You warn. You donât want this conversation to happen. At all.
âNo, no, itâs just I thought you didnât like him,â He raises his hands in defense, smiling. âThen again back in my day, they used to say those who fight, love each other. Thereâs a fine line between love and hate.â
âOh my god,â You grumble and kick a rock as you walk, sending it tumbling in front of you.
âI mean what else am I supposed to think from the sight I witnessed this morning?â
âYou better keep your mouth shut about it, Barnes. Did you already blab about it to the rest of the team? Oh god, I bet Sam did. Tell me he didnâtââ Bucky laughs at you as you freak out. âStop it Buck! Tell me he didnât!â You whine, looking at him pleadingly.
âNot while I was there,â Bucky reassures you. âBut you know how he just loves to talk,â He teases.
âI hope I die on this mission,â You mutter, sulking.
âDramatic much?â You canât stand the amusement on his face. âLook itâs fine if you like him, I mean sure there was that whole New York business butââ
âWill you stop it?! I donât like him like that! He offered to help me sleep!â
A snort half escapes Bucky. âOh, is that what you kids call it these days?â He nudges you playfully.
âJust shut up and fill me in on the new info,â You roll your eyes. âAnd make sure we're heading in the right direction.â
âYes, Captain,â He salutes you, grinning and you have to resist the urge to smack him.
âÂ
What you donât know is that Loki is going through something similar as he, Thor and Sam move towards the location of the hideout.
âSo you have the hots for little miss Captain,â Sam announces, grinning at Loki, who gives him a side glance.
âAs far as Iâm aware she does not like to be called that,â Loki replies evenly, heâs doing his best to mask his feelings. Involving other people would only complicate your already fragile dynamic.
âNah, but Bucky agrees something about her just screams Steve, it's her facial expressions, man, you gotta watch out for that shit,â Sam muses.Â
Loki scrunches his face from the comparison to Rogers. He does not have âthe hotsâ for a female version of Rogers, that would be absurd. No, youâre⊠youâre you. Painfully stubborn and you get impossibly mad when he teases you. And his attempts to get close to you have all failed, with the exception of last night.Â
Sam throws his head back laughing âOh, youâre down bad! You're thinking about her now!â and Loki is forced back into the present moment.
Thor looks to them in interest. âWhat is âdown badâ?â He makes a show of doing air quotes as he narrowly avoids a branch hitting him in the face.
âIt means your little brother here is in love with her,â Sam explains as he walks between them and clasps Thorâs shoulder.Â
Thor contemplates for a moment. âHe does act very odd around the little mortal,â He nods.
âThatâs what Iâm saying!â Sam exclaims, glad that Thor gets it. âAnd you know what else? Me and Bucky found them cuddled up in bed this morning!â
Thor looks at Loki, grinning. âIs that true, brother? Is the little mortal your lady now? Shall I notify mother?â
âItâs hardly any of your concern!â Loki snips, focusing on the path ahead. His skin is starting to crawl and he stretches his fingers, trying to keep his cool, but really all he wants to do is place a silencing enchantment on Sam. Thor too.
He retreats back into his mind once they start discussing something else and the teasing finally subsides.
â
Surprisingly, the mission goes smoothly. You capture the bad guys that havenât left the hideout yet and make sure the place is completely clear. You already knew this wasnât their main base anymore but thereâs still data left around that you gather for evidence and intel on their other locations.
âKeep moving,â Smart Hulk grumbles as he leads the few guys in handcuffs out with Nat and Thor. You walk the other way. Youâre doing one more building check with Bucky. It doesnât seem like you missed anyone or anything. Then you run into Sam.
âOh hey, hey! Check out this room,â He motions to an open door.Â
Bucky shrugs when you look at him, seemingly just as confused as you are, so you walk into the room, expecting them to follow. You look around, thereâs nothing out of the ordinary here. Just a bunch of tech stuff, computers on desks.
âSam, I donât get it,â And then the door slams shut. You spin around, now even more confused. âGuys?â
âWhatâs happening?â Loki asks from behind you and you jump. You turn and see him straightening behind one of the desks. He mustâve been crouched down before because you definitely didnât notice him earlier.
It makes a lot more sense now why Sam fooled you into going into this room. It's because of Loki.
âSam thinks he's funny,â You grit as you push on the door handle, when that doesnât work you pound on the door. âOpen it, Sam!âÂ
Nothing.
âBucky, can you open the door?â You try, counting on him to give in quicker. You hear both of them laughing on the other side. âSeriously guys, this is childish!âÂ
âNo, no, you two need to talk about your cuddling! If thatâs even what happened!â Sam chimes from the other side.
Your face heats up. As soon as they open the door youâre gonna strangle them both. This is a nightmare. Loki clears his throat, drawing your attention to him. âYou know, as much as it pains me to say it, he might be rightâŠâ
You shake your head at him, your eyes silently pleading him not to continue. His eyebrows pull together and something about this moment feels especially vulnerable. Itâs in his expression and the way you feel like your heart is going to leap out of your chest. But you canât possibly talk about this here, now, in the middle of a mission. You havenât had enough time to think and youâre just not ready for this.Â
His mouth opens and closes and then his expression hardens. Previous vulnerability gone, like it was never even there. âI understand,â He says, low. And you immediately feel regret.Â
He walks to the door. âGentlemen, you do still remember I possess magic, yes? And you remember the people that have crossed me, how they ended up?â He threatens, loud enough for them to hear and in no time the door opens. Loki slips out past them.Â
âLokiââ You call after him but he doesnât turn around, heâs set on getting away with quick strides. You glare at Sam and Bucky who are grimacing. âYou just had to meddle!â
âIt was his idea.â Bucky points at Sam.
âWas not!â Sam argues.
âOh yeah? It was you who brought it up at the table this morning!âÂ
âEnough!â You yell, youâve had it with them trying to push the blame when they share it. âYouâve just complicated things further! Stay out of my business!â You look between them as your blood boils.Â
Regret and guilt seep into their features and they now look like children whoâve been scolded. Good. Maybe thatâll teach them a lesson about meddling in other people's affairs.
âWe should- uh- we should get back,â Sam says awkwardly.Â
You get to go on a blind date with none other than Levi Ackerman. There's just one catch: you have to make it an epic disaster.
tags: modern AU, romcom vibes but make it thirsty, fluff and humor
cw: contains some swearing | word count: 3.5k
A/n: for day 6 of LeviWeek, I used the prompts "blind date" and "role-play". You'll have to decide for yourself whether this qualifies for the "dystopia" prompt, lol. (It's a modern setting AU where Annie's dad is a rich CEO).
(Levi x reader Masterlist)
"So, what did you want to talk about?" You asked, fiddling with the teabag tag hanging from your cup.
"It's happening again," Annie said gravely. She was sitting opposite you, unsmiling.
"Damn. Another blind date?"
Annie nodded, her hands clenching into fists on the table. "Like, I know he doesn't approve of Armin. As if his daily offhanded comments about him being a wimp weren't enough. But now he's gone over to pretending that Armin doesn't even exist."
Her eyes narrowed. "It's like he's enlisted every eligible bachelor in this damn country to make my life a living hell. Says that I need a 'real man' by my side if I am to take over the company. I can't take it anymore."
You scoffed. "Like you aren't perfectly capable of leading the company by yourself. Why should your choice in a partner have anything to do with it?"
"Exactly. He's driving me insane. I swear, if I have to sit through even just one more blind date, I'm gonna explode. Don't know what I'll do to him then, but one thing's for sure, it won't be pretty. "
You gave her a sympathetic look.
Annie met your gaze with a sly smile. "That's where you come in."
"Me?"
"Yes. You're gonna go on that blind date for me."
"What?" You almost spit out your tea. "Why the hell would I do that?"
"Multiple reasons. For one, you'd prevent and all-out war with my old man. You wouldn't want me to end up disowned, now would you?" She gave you an innocent look.
"Two. It's free food. I know you can't resist that."
You rolled your eyes. "I'm not that easily bought."
"We'll see about that." Annie waggled her brows. "It's at that exclusive sushi place even A-list celebrities can't get into without connections."
"Fuck it, I'm in."
Annie grinned. "I knew you'd come around eventually. But there's a small catch â you'll have to pretend to be me."
Oh no.
"And you'll have to make sure the date's a total disaster."
Oh no, no, no.
"So bad, in fact, that my reputation will be in ruins and no eligible bachelor will ever look my way again." She gave you an angelic smile.
"Think you could do that for me?"
â â
And that was the story of how you'd ended up here, in front of a high-end restaurant, wearing clothes that cost more than your car and all of your other possessions combined. You even wore a wig to look more like Annie. All in the name of friendship. (And free sushi.)
That sushi better be good.
You stepped inside, where an elegantly dressed hostess greeted you with a perfectly practiced smile and a courteous bow of her head.
"Welcome, do you have a reservation?"
Hell yeah. You put on a polite smile. "Yes. It should be in the name of 'Ackerman'?"
That was the name of your date for the evening, a certain Levi Ackerman, apparently a nouveau-riche-type of businessman who qualified as a real man in the eyes of Annie's father. He was supposedly a few years older than you. Not that it really mattered with the plans that you had in store for him.
The hostess nodded pleasantly and motioned towards the dining area. "If you would follow me, please."
You stalked after her in your high heels, feeling a little out of your depth.
"Eyes on the prize," you muttered under your breath. If nothing else, you would stuff your face tonight.
But as you passed the tables, eyeing the exquisitely arranged dishes, your dreams of a feast were crushed instantly â the portions were tiny.
"Here it is," the hostess said, leading you past a delicate, ornamental paper divider to your table in the quietest corner of the restaurant. Mr. Ackerman was already there â not surprising, since you were almost half an hour late, the first part of your plan to leave the worst impression possible. His back was turned to you, so the only thing you could see was his dark undercut.
The hostess was the first to reach the table, pulling out your chair with a subtle, practiced gesture. "Yello!" You exclaimed loudly as you dropped into the seat, slouching with your elbows on the table. The man in front of you looked up with a frown. Your mouth fell open: The guy was hot. Somehow, Annie had failed to mention that not-so-little detail to you. You could already feel your cheeks start to burn, but you had to go through with the plan.
"Hi. I'm Annie Leonhart," you said in a fake, high-pitched voice, thrusting out your hand. "But my friends call me Leo â like the lion. RAWR!" You transformed your hand into a claw before he could take it, brandishing it under his nose.
Needless to say, he didn't look very impressed.
"I'm Levi," he said in an unflinching monotone. Damn, even his voice was hot.
You let out a shrill laugh. "How funny. I had a hamster with that name once."
Levi looked at you for moment, his expression flat.
"Good to know. I hope your hamster had better manners than you do."
You nodded earnestly. "He was the most well-behaved hamster. Such a good boy."
Then you turned your gaze downward, squeezing your eyes shut to force out a few tears.
"Sorry, I get nervous at these things," you explained.
He gave you a curt nod.
Before you could say anything else, the waiter approached.
"Good evening. My name is Ryotaro, and I'll be taking care of you tonight."
He gave you a slight bow, before carefully setting down the menus in front of you.
"May I recommend our omakase for tonight? It is a selection of our chef's finest sushi, prepared with fresh, seasonal ingredients. Or, if you prefer, you may choose from our Ă la carte options."
"We'll do Ă la carte," you said immediately, not giving Levi any opportunity to get a word in.
"Certainly," Ryotaro said. "Please take your time. I'll return in a few moments to take your order."
Levi leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. You could feel his eyes on you, scrutinizing you, like they were probing your innermost thoughts. You swallowed and looked away from his face, trying to avoid his gaze. His sleeves were riding up a bit, revealing the veins protruding from his well-toned forearms. It wasn't fair. How was everything about this man so goddamn hot? Get a grip, you told yourself. You cracked your knuckles and reached for the menu. This was what you were here for. The food. Not the man. Even if he was delicious. Probably.
You tried not to gasp at the prices as you scanned the menu. It wasn't like you had to pay for any of this. In fact, this was your pay.
You glanced at Levi over the edge of your menu. He, too, was quietly reading what the restaurant had to offer.
You cleared your throat. "A lot of seafood, isn't it?"
"It's a sushi restaurant." He didn't look up from his menu.
"Tough crowd," you said. The room fell silent again.
You took a gulp of the water provided on the table, but your mouth was still dry like a desert. This was even harder than you had anticipated. The man didn't give you anything to work with.
When Ryotaro came back to the table, you breathed a sigh of relief.
Levi ordered first. "I'll start with the Shishito Peppers with Miso Glaze. For the main dish, I'll have the sushi and sashimi platter, chef's selection. As for drinks, I will get a green tea."
"Certainly, sir." Ryotaro turned to you. "And what may it be for the lady?"
"I'll get the Daiginjo sake. A whole bottle, please." There was no way you'd get through this evening sober.
"As you wish. I can bring you a tokkuri, a carafe."
"That will do nicely," you said sweetly. "As for the food⊠I'll have everything."
"Certainly not," Ryotaro said politely, having caught himself again. "Will it be the full portions, or may it be a bit of everything?"
"Full portions," you said, not missing a beat.
"Absolutely. Would you like to order all of our side dishes, as well?"
"Yes, that would be most darling."
"Certainly," Ryotaro said in a measured tone, betraying nothing. What an absolute professional.
He bowed slightly, then quietly stepped back, leaving the table.
Levi took a sip of his water, seemingly unbothered by your excessive ordering. You gave him an incredulous look. He put down the water, placing it on the table with a soft thud.
"You're really going all out, aren't you?" he said dryly.
"Of course. I'm here for the food."
He raised an eyebrow at you. It was a good look on him. (Everything was a good look on him.)
"Just for the food," you reiterated. It physically hurt you to say it.
"Is that so," he said, impassive.
"Yes. Daddy wants me to go on dates to find a real man. But I'm not into real men." You made a dramatic pause. "I prefer them two-dimensional, you know? Like from an anime. They're just so much cooler." You held your breath as you waited for Levi's reaction.
He didn't even flinch. "Of course they are cooler. They're not real."
"They are real for me!" You protested, adding a bit of a whiny undertone.
That earned you an eye roll.Yes! You were getting there.
"I'm sure they are very real... in your head. Good luck finding a two-dimensional guy that you can get dinner with, let alone hold a conversation."
You scoffed. "It's not like you are that great at holding a conversation. You're not the most talkative guy."
He gave you a deadpan look. "Good. I should be your type then."
Damn, that was smooth. You could feel your face heating up at his words.
"I'll have you know that the anime guys in my head are great conversationalists. I have a very vivid imagination, you know?"
"You'd need it, since you'd essentially be both sides of the relationship. Rather one-dimensional, actually."
He had a point. But of course, you couldn't let him know that. You let out a dramatic sigh. "Still more exciting than any real men I've encountered so far."
"Maybe you met the wrong ones."
"All of them corporate lackeys, like you. I'm sure you don't really want to be here, either. You're just trying to further your agenda, get a foot in the door of daddy's company. At least I'm being honest about what I want." You flipped your hair back for additional theatrics.
Levi tilted his head, his cool eyes fixed on you with newly-found interest.
"So that's what you think this is. Explains a lot."
You met his gaze, challenging him. "Am I wrong?"
"About me playing some corporate game? Yes. While it's true that I'm here because I owed Leonhart a favor, I'm not trying to get anything out of this. Nor am I planning on doing any further business with him, for that matter. This is separate."
"The Shishito Peppers for you, sir," he said, placing the dish in front of Levi.
"And which one may you prefer to eat first?" He asked, turning to you.
"Whatever you recommend. I'm going to eat them all anyway. Just put as many as will fit on the table," you replied with a smile. The food was beautifully arranged, each dish looking like dainty little artworks with their delicate garnishing and vibrant colors. It made your mouth water in anticipation.
"Certainly," Ryotaro said, moving some of the dishes to your table. "I'd recommend the Tuna Tartare for a light and refreshing start. You could proceed with the Shishito Peppers for some mild heat, then move on to the heartier dishes. Would this be to your liking?"
"You bet," you said enthusiastically. This elicited a faint smile from Ryotaro, a nice change from his usual stiff demeanor. He didn't know it yet, but he would get a huge tip tonight for putting up with your antics. Annie had given you her gold card, and you intended to make good use of it.
As soon as he had left your table, you took out your phone and snapped pictures of every single dish. Levi gave you a look.
"You planning to frame those?" He sounded slightly amused.
This wasn't a good direction. You needed to double down on the weirdness.
"Almost. These are for my diary," you said with a serious nod, like this was perfectly normal. "Right, of course I'll need a snapshot of you, too."
You pointed the camera at him and took a photo without asking for his permission, perfectly capturing his frown.
You put on a pout. "You didn't even smile. What will daddy think? He might think you're not having any fun."
"Oh, I'm having fun alright," Levi muttered under his breath.
As you took your first bite, your eyes lit up with pure and utter delight, the exquisitely tender tuna melting in your mouth, harmonizing perfectly with the acidity of the yuzu. You couldn't stop a huge grin from spreading over your face. This was definitely worth the cost, even if it meant making a complete fool of yourself.
Levi watched you, and for a second, a ghost of a smile passed over his lips.
"You really are just here for the food, aren't you," he noted wryly.
"You know it!" You exclaimed in between bites. You savored every last one of them, closing your eyes to bliss out without any distractions.
"Tch. You look like you're about to propose to the chef."
You opened your eyes to grin at him. "That's a fantastic idea! I totally should."
"A shame that he's three-dimensional, though," he quipped in that monotone of his, which shouldn't be allowed to sound this damn good, but it somehow did. You actually laughed out loud at this â your real laugh â but you didn't even notice.
You shrugged. "Everyone should be allowed one flaw."
He did the eyebrow-raise again. It made your heart beat faster. "Are you implying that I have more than one?"
"We already established this. You're not the best at carrying a conversation."
"I think I'm carrying this one just fine."
"Even a broken clock is right twice a day." You smirked.
"Tch. You're being quite a rude brat right now."
Your smirk grew wider. "Everyone should be allowed one flaw, remember?"
Levi snorted. There was a slight quirk to the corners of his mouth, a bit higher on one side, like his smile would be lopsided if only he'd allow it to fully form.
His eyes were locked with yours. Your heart was thumping in your chest.
Ryotaro's polite voice cut through the tension between you. "Is everything to your liking?"
You gave him a dazed look, like you'd just woken up from a dream.
"Yes," you said softly, almost inaudibly.
"It's good," Levi said, his face blank.
That made you snap out of it. "Good? Just good? It's phenomenal! Heavenly!" You gesticulated wildly with your hands to underline your words.
"I'm glad," Ryotaro said, sounding genuinely pleased. "May I take your empty dishes?"
Ryotaro served you the remaining ones from the cart, then wheeled it away.
The silence that followed was charged, somehow. Different from before. You knew you should probably do something ridiculous, outrageous, something to tarnish the good name of the Leonharts, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.
Surprisingly, Levi was the one to break the silence.
"So you're an ill-mannered brat who prefers anime men over real ones. Any more flaws I should know about?"
"Of course not. I'm perfect," you said, doing the dramatic hair flip again.
There was a ripping sound, and suddenly your head felt much lighter. Something fell to the ground with a weak flop. You stared at it in horror. It was a mop of blonde hair â the wig had fallen right off.
Shit. "I-I can explain," you stammered. "I have severe dandruff, and I didn't want it to fall on my black dress. That's why I wanted to cover my hair, but it's rude to wear hats in restaurants, so I opted for a wig, and â"
"You can stop the charades. I know you're not Annie Leonhart," Levi cut you off. "I checked her photo beforehand, and you look nothing like her."
You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate.
"Damn, it was the nose, wasn't it?"
"Yep."
"Fuck. So we've both been playing pretend this entire time? Why didn't you say anything sooner?" You searched his eyes for some sort of clue, but came up short.
"I wanted to find out what your intentions are. See how far you would take this."
"And what did your little investigation uncover?"
"That you're really into food. "
You flashed him a sheepish smile. "Dang, I guess I'm easier to read than I thought. That's all you gathered, Mr. Detective?"
"Well, you also have quite the comedic talent. You might want to consider a career in that field."
You chuckled softly. "Glad I could at least provide some entertainment for the evening."
Levi nodded. "I still have some questions though."
"I can imagine."
"I'd like to know the story behind all this. But I'd understand if you'd rather keep your privacy."
"It's fine," you said with a wave of your hand. "You deserve some answers. Actually, I'm Annie's best friend. She already has a boyfriend, but her father doesn't approve of him and wants to set her up with someone he prefers. You know, the classic story." You rolled your eyes. "Well, Annie was fed up with the constant blind dates and wanted to put an end to them once and for all. That's where I came in. She kinda roped me into this with the promise of free foodâŠ" You awkwardly ran a hand through your hair.
He huffed out a laugh. "You really did this only for the food? Should've asked for more."
"I know, right? But anyway, the idea was to ruin her reputation, make sure no eligible bachelor would be caught dead within a mile's radius from her... Guess that didn't go quite as planned."
Levi shook his head. "If you wanted someone to badmouth her, you picked the wrong person."
"So I gathered. You're not exactly the rumor spreading type. Not chatty enough."
"Right. Not as conversational as the cool anime dudes in your head," he deadpanned.
"Shut up." You grinned. "You know I only did this to fuck with you."
"Didn't work."
"Not even just a little bit?" You asked. "A teeny tiny little bit?"
He shook his head.
"Not even a micro bit? A nano bit?" You leaned in, giving him big doe eyes.
"Fine, I'll give you that. You got off to a strong start."
The smile on your lips grew even wider. "Yeah? You liked that? RAWR!" You gave him the lion claws again.
"Don't push it," he said, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes.
"Admit it, you want to see more of it."
"No." He gave you a long look. "But I'd like to see more of the real you."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Did you just ask me on a second date? "
"I suppose I did. Figured it couldn't be any worse than this one."
"Joke's on you. We're not even at the main course. This date isn't over yet."
And you had a feeling it was about to get a whole lot better.
A/n: I admit the anime guy thing might've been a bit meta xD
Btw, reader absolutely brought containers in her purse to take the leftovers. Can't have the good food go to waste, lol.
Please stop âđš you're the only hope to save a childđ„ș
Please Help Me My Son May Die at Any Moment.
I'm Amal, a mother of three children, living under the weight of the genocide taking place in Gaza. đ
My son is suffering from a severe and life-threatening injury after being shot by Israeli drones. He urgently needs medical treatment outside Gaza.
Time is running out, and we are facing a critical situation. I am asking for your generosity to help us save him either through a donation or by sharing this urgent plea with others
I beg you, i kiss your feet, to help my son. My son may die at any moment
A desperate confession from our favorite commander, hope you enjoy ;)
(if enough people like this, I might make a pt.2)
--------------
âBECAUSE I LOVE YOU!â
The sound of dust falling to the ground could be heard from the surrounding rooms. All voices previously angered and hurt were silenced, reduced to nothing in the room that held so many precious moments. Hange and Levi, standing right outside the door to their superiors office, were taken aback. They had anticipated an argument, but nothing of the sorts. Deciding it was best to walk away then and there, they left in worry.
Your jaw forced itself up, eyes widening, and mind foggy.Â
âBecause you consume every fiber of my being,â The man in front of you pathetically uttered. Never in all your life had you imagined you would see Erwin Smith desperate, despite the many intimate moments shared on the bed the next door over. Despite the hushed moans, breathy kisses, and pressed up bodies that revealed themselves after a moment of vulnerability months ago.
Your expression told a thousand words. You were hurt, angry, confused. So many questions ran through your head. This didnât fit in with the many, many rationalizations you had created in your head obsessing over the man before you. You were so sure he thought nothing of you, that you were comrades, equals, friends, but never lovers.
âI couldnât- I canât, let myself succumb to the desires that claw away at my soul. To let myself grow weak at your every movement, every pleading look you send my way.â Erwinâs usually commanding voice began to falter, breathless and cracking, when all he had done was stand still. His hands went to his forehead. He looked nauseous, like he couldnât take it anymore.Â
You let him continue. âIf I lost you, I donât think I could ever forgive myself, to push on and remain strong for all the world that depends on my command. I would have sacrificed the people counting on me just to see you smile again. I wouldâve burned the walls that protect us to the ground if it meant you got to stay alive.â His confession was strained. He paused, sighed, and just then did you see the small ring of tears forming at the waterline of his beautiful blue eyes. The eyes that welcomed you into the scouts when he had just begun, and the eyes that have seen you at your worst. But never have these eyes looked at you like you were a million miles away when there was mere inches between you.Â
Somewhere along his speech, the both of you shifted closer and closer together.Â
Erwin opened his mouth to speak, âBut of course I love you. Iâm crazy about you. You donât even know how miserable I feel when you leave my room without a second look, or how much I regret it when I see your sorrowful eyes glance at me after I donât give you the light of day.â
You feel hope bloom in your heavy heart and your breaths become heavier by the second. Your furiously uttered questions were being answered one by one, the pain that once consumed you began to lift with every word he said.
âYouâre irresistible. I mean, itâs you.â He looks down and chuckles mostly to himself. âBut I canât burden you with this. I wonât let myself.â Youâre stuck in your place, not knowing what to do with yourself. Should you kiss him? Oh how you want to kiss him.Â
Before you can answer that question for yourself, he looks up, and for the first time you see Erwin Smith cry. The Commander of the Scouts, The Erwin Smith, buckling for you. However, in this moment he was none of those, he was just Erwin. The one you grew to love.
Theres a long pause. âListen, I get it if you want to leave, Iâve said too much already.â
You shake your head no before you know it, eyebrows furrowed and expression shifted from smitten to disoriented in an instant, but he begins to turn before he can witness it.Â
So, you follow your first instinct, the only way you can express all the words that piled up at the bottom of your throat. You grab Erwin by the collar of his disheveled button up and kiss him like youâve never done before. His eyes are wide, but he wastes no time before reciprocating, his dazed eyes closing shut. The kiss is wet with tears and rushed with devotion. His large hands impatiently grasp to cup your face and he acts like a starved man tasting food for the first time. As his tongue dips into your mouth, you realize this kiss is different from all the previous ones youâve shared. No, this time he treats you like youâre made of glass, like you might break in his hands if he dares to move. Its tender and delicate, and all you can feel is the love he so often suppressed pouring from his lips. You pull away for a moment and he chases your lips before opening his eyes.Â
Those same blue eyes now hold the most joy youâve seen since you met him.Â
âYouâre such an idiot.â You breathlessly laugh as you see his expression morph into confusion paired with amusement. âOf course I love you. Iâve always loved you.â He waits, and you continue, âI love you so much that Iâll willingly, happily take on this burden with you. And I donât care what happens in the future, canât I just savor my time with you now? I mean, donât we deserve at least that, after all weâve been through?â
Youâre right, he knows youâre right. And because of that, he nods and smiles. Grins even, with teeth and everything. Then, he dips his head back down and kisses you once more.
â
Levi and Hange converse in the mess hall about God knows what as an attempt to ignore their impatience, until their questions are answered by the sight of you and Erwin emerging from the sleeping quarters with big goofy grins on your faces.Â
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