Just a little drabble; it may pop up later in a fic, but for now, I had to get it on ‘paper’ so to speak.
You were in a particularly bad mood when Loki stormed into the Avengers’ common kitchen. He stopped when he realized that you were in front of the coffee machine with your back to him, and you were apparently lost in thought, since you didn’t move aside for him.
He waited impatiently for several minutes for you to acknowledge him before clearing his throat more loudly than necessary. You jumped at the sound, then turned to face him.
“Do you mind?” He asked, motioning toward the counter.
“Sure.”
You moved one step to your right while he went the same way, then you both ended up doing a weird little dance before he gave an annoyed huff. His hands gripped your shoulders so that he could lift you and set you out of his way.
His action surprised you, and your hand fell on a folded newspaper that Steve had left on the countertop.
“Unhand me!”
The newspaper smacked harmlessly against his ribs, making him stop in shock. His eyebrows lifted in astonishment even as you gaped at him, your mouth open.
Oh, shit….did I just….
“Did you just strike me?” Loki asked, incredulously, his voice interrupting your inner thoughts.
You closed your mouth, doing your best to imitate his frown.
“Apparently so.”
“You really don’t have any sense about you, do you?” He asked then, with just one eyebrow arching.
For months, you and Loki barely tolerated one another and gave each other a wide berth. You didn’t know what you could possibly have done to make him dislike you so much, but there came a point where you just stopped thinking about it. It hurt at first, since nothing you did or said ever made a difference; you learned that you just had to deal with it.
So, you now ignored him when you could, and kept interactions as brief as possible when you couldn’t.
This day had started off wrong and kept going like a bus skidding down an icy hill. Now here you were, being held off the floor by the spoiled space-prince, and enough was enough.
“Alright, that tears it! Put me down!”
With no sense of preservation, you hit him again, in the same spot. Loki let his breath out angrily before he shook you hard enough for you to see stars.
“You really want your backside paddled, don’t you?” He asked.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Kicking at him is a bad, bad, bad idea, you keep telling yourself.
“You don’t think so? Hit me again.” His voice was soft, dangerously so.
You glared at him for several seconds before lifting the newspaper in order to tap it lightly against his chest. Then you used the end of it to brush a non-existent something off his shirt.
“Got it.”
Loki set you onto your feet before slinging you across his shoulder, holding you there easily despite your attempts to get free. You struggled against him, knowing that it was no use: you weren’t going anywhere until he allowed you to.
Loki carried you to your suite, to your bedroom, then sat on the side of the bed after kicking the doors closed. Then you went face down across his lap. He gathered your wrists together and held them in the small of your back while ignoring your writhing.
“Loki!”
His palm came down onto your bottom with one sharp blow, causing you to shriek with outrage and pain. Even though he’d curbed his strength, it had hurt.
Then, to add insult to injury, he pushed you off him and onto the floor. You sat there for a moment before scrambling out of reach so that you could stand. Loki watched while you smoothed your hair down, his expression impassive.
His lips quirked ever so slightly when you rubbed your backside with a disgruntled expression. Then you took a deep breath before rushing at him, both hands extended to make contact with his shoulders.
He fell backwards, with you on top of him. Your hands went into his hair, anchoring his head still while he grasped your sides.
Loki’s eyebrows arched again as you stared down at him; when you pressed your lips against his, his grip on you tightened. Tentatively, you nibbled at his lower lip, watching as his eyes fluttered closed.
His hands slid down to your waist, then slid under the hem of your shirt before going further to cup your backside. You winced slightly, causing him to loosen his hold on you.
“Loki,” you whispered, lips grazing his jawline before finding a sensitive spot close to his ear.
“Yes?” He whispered back, unsteadily.
“I like this much better than fighting.”
Your fingers run lightly down his throat, bringing a slight shudder from him. After a couple of minutes of this, his hand found the back of your neck in order to hold you against him while he rolled you beneath him.
You kept a hand in his hair: it was softer than it looked, and was so thick and heavy. Loki tilted his head, moving toward your touch when you caressed his scalp; he practically purred under your touch.
The quiet moment was then interrupted by a hard knock on your outer door.
“It’s about time!” Thor shouted, loud enough to reach the bedroom.
“Norns,” Loki sighed.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his pained expression before you tugged gently on his hair. When he kissed you again, both your hands slid to his neck while you kissed him back.
“I agree,” he murmured against your lips before he nuzzled at your earlobe.
“What’s that?”
His breath in your ear made it hard to concentrate on the conversation.
Februpony Day 28: Draw Anything! I just wanted to thank @funpicturesofponies for coming up with this month long challenge and everyone who liked and reblogged my art! Seriously, this was the most fun I've had! Thank you so very much!
[A figure goes to rush past and trips over his feet and their own, sturdier than they look. Dark hair, glasses, books flying. If his reflexes are fast enough, he might be able to catch them. Or he could at least soften the blow on their way down]
