Choke
Summary: Loki almost killed you during the Battle of New York. You struggle when he returns.
Warnings: If the title didn't give it away, choking. Also, Loki being an ass. Smut. 18+
AN: I'm a slut for comments and reposts!
*****
Why wouldn't he just leave? That irritating smirk, as if something was so damn amusing, lingered on Loki's face, his eyes on you like prey. He was that constant itch that you couldn’t scratch away, the ever looming ache in your side that you couldn’t ignore. While the rest of the team discussed their next mission, you sat at the far end of the table incessantly tapping your foot while he reclined in a chair. It was bad enough that after all the destruction he had caused in New York that he decided to show his face again on Earth, in tow with his brother. But the fact that you had to see him every day, breathe the same air, act like everything was water under the bridge, felt almost impossible. Thor had framed Loki's return in the brightest of lights–that he'd changed, that he had been brainwashed and tortured and wasn't the same person anymore. The rest of the team was willing to be cautiously accepting for Thor's sake, and perhaps were starting to buy into the idea that Loki had turned over a new leaf. But the rest of the team hadn't looked into Loki's eyes, seen that possessive evil, when he had lifted you by your throat while smiling, slowly closing your windpipe as you struggled to break free.
That fateful day had been permanently etched in your memory. New York was under attack and you had been focused on surveillance for the team in Stark Tower when he had shown up, strolling proudly with his scepter in hand. Standing abruptly, your heart pounded as you sized up this towering giant and watched his movements; your combat and defense skills were good, but they'd never been put to the test by a god. "Are you going to attempt to appeal to my humanity?"
His demeanor was so high and mighty, like this was all so far beneath him. "And why would I do that? Clearly you have none."
Your legs mimicked his movements, circling each other around the open loft. He paused and cocked his head, an amused smirk pulling on his face. "Don't tell me you intend to fight me, girl. Adorable, but I can assure you I am no match for you."
"We'll see about that."
"And why would I waste my time fighting you? You could be quite useful to me." He aimed the tip of the scepter at your chest, but you were quicker than he’d anticipated and swiped the staff to the side before kicking him in the chest. It didn't do much, he was as solid as a tree, but it was enough to catch him slightly off guard to kick the scepter out of his hand and you both watched as it slid across the room. Adrenaline pumping, you attempted to lurch at the fallen weapon, but he was faster and grabbed your wrist, spinning you around.
"And where do you think you're going?" His tone was sinister and his large hand wrapped around your neck, lifting you off the ground as your legs flailed. Long fingers slowly squeezed on your windpipe and you struggled to pry them off. Tears blurred your vision and started to stream down your face. "Such pathetic floundering bottom feeders you Midgardians are. I should put you out of your misery."
He smiled while watching you struggle in his one hand, prolonging your agony. Squeezing tighter, the world moving out of focus into black. And then a window shattered and the Hulk emerged, ultimately saving you and smashing Loki in the process.
For three weeks, every time you looked in the mirror you were reminded of what he did to you. Your neck turned black and blue, then purple, then green, then brown and yellow. But even as the bruises faded, it was still raw in your mind.
So when Thor had pulled you aside to convince you why his brother deserved another chance, you screamed internally while plastering a smile on your face. He had to have known the trauma Loki had put you through. "Are you okay with this, y/n?"
The pleading in his eyes confirmed that if you said no, it would break his heart. Thor was like a brother to you, and while his brother was the spawn of Satan, you pushed your feelings aside and lied straight to his face. "If you say he's changed, then I believe you."
*****
Loki knew who you were, what he had done to you. The recognition on his face when you first walked into the room and stopped short was evident. His eyes lingered as you leaned against the far wall, keeping a significant distance between you and him. Absentmindedly, you nibbled at your lip and fiddled with the hem of your shirt.
"Lady y/n!" The bellowing voice made you freeze as you watched the large blonde man stride over, dragging his darker haired brother behind him with a perturbed look. He wasn't actually bringing his brother over to you, was he? "I'm glad you are here," he smiled, like this was a family reunion, "Y/n, my brother Loki."
The expression on your face was blank as you tried to hold it together. "We've met," you deadpanned at the same time Loki said, "I don't believe she cares to meet me, Thor."
The oblivious blonde shook his head at your responses. "Nonsense! The last time you met was a misunderstanding. This is a chance to start anew."
Loki watched the vein in your neck as you clenched your jaw together, your nostrils flaring slightly at the thought of your near death being a "misunderstanding." The way your hand shook by your side. He knew you were not ready for this.
"Please excuse my brother. Y/n, it is a pleasure to meet you formally.”
You studied the carpet as he spoke, noticing a burn mark on the rug you'd never seen before. He turned to leave, pulling Thor with him.
“Is that it?” The words were so quiet you barely heard them yourself. But Loki paused and turned toward you. You didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to be near him, didn’t want to be on the same planet as him, but you also didn’t want to be the weak girl that he clearly thought you were, so you pulled your eyes from the floor to look directly at him, your eyes blazing with anger. “Is that all you have to say to me?”
“I… No. I am sorry for any pain that I caused you. It is inexcusable, I know that.”
You willed yourself not to bring your hand to your neck, remembering how the person in front of you toyed with attempting to snuff out your existence without blinking an eye.
It's an act. It's just for show.
Glaring at him, you didn’t want to believe his words. If he was expecting forgiveness, he wouldn’t find it from you. "You're right," you replied. "It is inexcusable."
Pushing past him, you hated the feeling that perhaps he had been sincere.
*****
The constant stress of being cooped up in a tower with him was weighing on you. The need to leave rooms, change directions, hide out in your apartment; was it childish? You didn't know. But every time you saw him, your pulse started racing, your throat turned to sandpaper, and your stomach tensed.
When Natasha announced it was time they all went out for a night, you were all in, needing to literally let your hair down and dance your cares away.
Stark paid an exorbitant amount of money to have access to an exclusive club that he and his friends could access at any time. You showed up in a little black number with a mission to let your cares go.
Dancing for hours had left you parched and you made your way to the bar. He was already there, arms crossed as he watched others with a judgmental look of disapproval. You ordered a rum and coke, telling the bartender to put it on his tab, causing Loki to roll his eyes but nod all the same. He turned his attention to you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. "Having fun?"
"I was," you snided, sipping your drink. "I thought you enjoyed this type of thing. Thor said you had your fair share of banquets and masquerades."
"Yes, well, my tastes are…a little more…refined."
You rolled your eyes at his snobbery. He was truly the worst. "When are you planning to leave Earth? I'm sure there are other planets just waiting to be conquered."
Hesitating at your remark, he studied you, no longer shaking from nerves and a more bold tongue, chalking it up to liquid courage. Leaning in closer to you, he could smell a mix of your vanilla body wash, sweat, and alcohol. "Why would I leave when my presence is clearly torturing you?"
The sinister smile on his face made the lump in your throat return and you quickly sipped at your drink again, the alcohol pushing your nerves back down. "Look at you. I don't even have to lay a finger on you and you whither in front of me."
Your cheeks went hot under his intense gaze, feeling small as he hovered over you. Swallowing, you looked up at him, butterflies erupting inside you.
"Fuck you, Loki," you breathed. Storming off, you could only imagine that arrogant smirk on his face as he watched you walk away. Heart pounding, blood boiling, you grabbed the first man you saw on the dance floor, gyrating with him under the strobe lights, trying to remove the image of him hovering over you from memory. When you looked up toward the bar, Loki was still watching you, a smile pulling on his lips like he knew exactly what he was doing.
*****
Combat training with various team members was grueling but necessary work, dripping sweat and lungs burning. You and Natasha went at each other, you landing a blow to her ribs, her landing a kick which resulted in an armbar. A few rounds and the two of you had called it a night, her leaving to shower while you stretched weary muscles.
"Your combat skills have seemed to improve since the last time I saw them." You heard him before you saw him. Narrowing your eyes and putting on a braver face than you felt inside, you groaned, crossing your arms.
"You're like an annoying gnat. What do you want?"
"I'm curious, when the team goes on missions, who is the one that babysits you? Do they take turns or is it the same person?"
He was trying to goad you, trying to get a rise out of you, you knew that. Well two could play this game. "How exactly did you convince Thor that you changed? All that talk of torture, did you make that up? Is there even a, what was his name? Thanos?"
His face dropped for the quickest of moments and a part of you regretted your words. But when he recovered, the look on his face made you take a step back.
"Tell me, how many nights have you been kept up at night thinking about my hand around your throat."
Your hand reacted before your brain could and the crack of your palm against his cheek was heard before it was felt. He smiled when he turned his face back to you, taking another step in your direction. Fist clenched, your arm swung up toward him, but he grabbed it and held it in place. Another step, your knee came up to his stomach, and he grabbed that too. You felt the wall behind you, a shallow breath released as you tried to hold yourself together, his chest centimeters from yours. When you looked up at those blue-green eyes though, it wasn't the same look as last time. There was no darkness, no evil, no possession. His smile was covering something else. Slowly, your eyes locked on his, you guided his other hand to your neck. His breath hitched as he watched you wrap his slender digits around your throat.
"Wha–" but you silenced his question with your lips. What started as a desperate need to shut him up turned to lips hovering near each other, tongues dancing together, breaths being shared. He pulled away to look at you, a question playing on his face, his silver tongue clearly tied. Your eyes dropped down, embarrassment starting to flood your mind, and his hand flicked your face back up to his and kissed you again, hand gliding from your neck to the back of your head, gripping onto your hair. Your fist was dropped as he glided his palm down your side, wrapping around your ass, bringing you wanting core to him. A whimper left your lips and he pressed into you with need.
Brains turned off, hands scrambled to pull at clothes and feel every inch of one another. His fingers slipped inside your pants, running his long digits along your silky crevices and you shook as the tip of his finger circled your clit, smiling into your mouth. "Seems like you've thought of this multiple times, pet."
"Shut up,” you demanded, greedily scrambling to free his throbbing erection from its enclosure, pulling at zippers and buttons, a relieved sigh escaping from him when it was freed.
He was quick with his movements and flipped you around, hands pressed against the wall, pants yanked down with a swift jerk, fingertips drawing lines up your thigh, up your hip, up your spine, causing shivers. His hand came to rest on your neck, tilting your head back to him. His warm throbbing cock slid between your ass cheeks and through your thighs, playing with your anxious opening.
"Beg me," he whispered into your ear. A strained cry left your throat as he rubbed his hot erection up your slit.
“Please,” you breathed, then moaned loudly as he stretched your tight opening, flexing his fingers under your jaw.
“Is this what you want, pet?” You wondered that yourself as he smoothly pulled and pressed into you, but as he hit your cervix while locked against him, you knew this was exactly what you wanted all along. A secret desire you wouldn’t even admit to yourself. The noises you made were sloppy, no longer able to make sense. He pulled your head toward him again, gripping down a little harder while pounding into you. “I asked you a question girl.”
“Y…ye…yes…” you wailed. You were close, but if it were to coming or passing out, you didn’t know. His cock hit in places you didn’t know were inside of you, and as he reached down to circle your clit, your body shook violently. The world went black for a moment and you collapsed into him, but vaguely you could hear his words. “I got you. I got you. Good girl.”
Pressing yourself into him on the floor, your lungs burned. He rubbed your neck, your arms, your back, while you came back to full recognition. Looking up at him, he pressed his lips together while you bit at yours. “Do not tell anyone about this.”
He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. “I doubt they would believe me even if I did, pet,” and kissed your hand. "Do you still want me to leave Midgard?"
Lowering your face into his shoulder, you hid your reddened cheeks. Your lips pressed together, unable to answer, but knowing you didn't want him to go.
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