Request: Tumblr ate the original request but it was something along the lines of: “Loki finding his lover who he’d thought was dead but was actually banished to Earth”
A/N: Takes place during the events of 2012’s The Avengers because I miss that era of Marvel SO BAD
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In your time on Earth, few things had posed such a potential problem as the Tesseract. While few had the ability to use it, its very presence invited those who would attempt to use its power to harm the universe. Including your old flame, Loki. He’s why you’d been so quick to accept Fury’s invitation to assist with its retrieval.
You doubt he even knew of your involvement until he’s been captured and brought aboard the SHIELD helicarrier. Until those brilliant icy blue eyes meet yours through the window of Banner and Stark’s lab as you help them bridge the gap between the Tesseract’s science and magic as he’s escorted to the holding cell, wrists shackled and a muzzle clamped over that too-clever mouth. You can see the flicker of shock in the miniscule tilt of his brows, the creeping wave of doubt that replaces the recognition. You can’t blame him for doubting the reality of your presence, not after everything that had happened.
And you leave him with that doubt as the days pass, as SHIELD agent after SHIELD agent attempts to crack him. You let him stew over whether he’d truly seen you or just a doppleganger as the buzz begins to settle and security begins to lapse, and then, finally, late in the night you go to him, security cameras fuzzing out and guards slipping into the warm grasp of sleep in your wake.
In just a few short breaths from your sleeping Midgardian colleagues you stand opposite the thick wall of glass keeping Loki contained, face to face with your lover for the first time in centuries. He seems startled, though only someone who knew him as well as you would’ve been able to tell.
“Hello, my love,” you say, a hand coming up to press against the glass between you without conscious thought. It had always been instinct for you to want to be close to him.
He’s silent, but you know it comes only from that brilliant mind racing - that he’s calculating odds and probabilities. That he’s trying to determine the truth of your presence - whether it’s really you or just another trick SHIELD is using to try and get to him.
“You died,” he says slowly, not yet believing you, but still unwilling to put further distance between you. “A very long time ago.”
A wry smile twists your features and you pull back, fingertips cool from the glass, and start to circle the glass prison. His gaze does not waver from you. “I suppose that is what Odin would have told everyone, yes,” you sigh. You gesture up toward the security cameras, “They’re off, by the way. And the guards will not disturb us, I’ve made sure of that.” There’s a flicker, a waiver of reality, as you vanish and reappear inside of the cage behind Loki. “You know what he told me? That I was dangerously close to destroying your destiny, and Thor’s alongside it. He said I would uproot the very fabric of fate if I remained at your side.”
He doesn’t turn to face you, though you can see a fraction of the tension leave his shoulders under the rich greens and burnished golds of his armor.
“I told him I would rather die than be kept from you. And he said that he could make me wish for death.” It hurts to remember the look on the All-Father’s face, to think of the weight of his decree, but Loki deserves to know everything. To be able to make his own choice for once in his long life. “He sent me here with nothing and no one and no way for me to get back to you.”
The silence is heavy, bearing down on your shoulders with all the weight of the things you’d never gotten the chance to tell him. The truths you’d learned that you hadn’t been able to tell him, the ‘I love you’s’, the eternity you should’ve been able to spend together.
“Did you try?” he asks, voice soft like silk bedsheets in sleepy afternoons spent curled up together and crushed velvet clutched in desperate fingers. “Did you try to find a way back?”
Your voice is thick, the words hard to force out around the heft of their truth, “Every day.”
He turns, finally, the ache in his blue eyes matching the one in your heart and he makes it a half step toward you before he starts to collapse and you surge forward to meet him, arms curling tight around his waist to support him and keep him close to you. His fingers tighten into the leather of your armor, holding you just as tightly. He will not lose you again. “I mourned,” he says, and you can hear the pain, the tears threatening to choke his words, “By all the realms, I mourned.”
“I know,” you murmur, because you do. You’d had no way of knowing if he lived, all those years with you trapped here, but you had hoped and mourned anyway - grieving over all the years you should have had. “But we’re together now. Loki, we can go.” His weight eases against you as he looks up at you and you can see your suggestion taking root, “We use the tesseract to get off this planet and go somewhere, just the two of us. No Odin, no Chitari, no destiny that we do not build ourselves.”
A breathless sort of laugh escapes him and you can feel his fingers slip up your back to curl into your hair and he drags you down until he can kiss you, deep and longing and aching in a way you can feel through every fiber of your being. “Okay,” he says, when he pulls back for a breath. “Okay.” He’s smiling so broadly he’s nearly unable to kiss you again. Nearly.
And you feel the same joy echoing through you, knowing that the two of you are free now, free to be together and build the future you never thought you’d get.
Summary: A genius Stark daughter and the God of Mischief clash, challenge each other, and slowly form a dangerous connection neither of them expected
You hated gods.
Not in the dramatic, existential way people usually meant. No—you hated them in the specific way someone hates a person who has personally inconvenienced their life.
Gods meant chaos.
Gods meant New York almost falling apart.
Gods meant your dad not sleeping for weeks afterward.
And gods meant Loki.
You leaned back in your chair in the Avengers compound lab, spinning a screwdriver between your fingers. A holographic interface flickered in front of you—half code, half chaos, entirely your doing.
“FRIDAY, run that simulation again.”
“Running,” the AI replied calmly.
The projection shifted.
Explosion.
Failure.
Again.
You groaned. “Oh come on—why does everything explode in this place?”
A voice behind you answered, smooth as silk and entirely unwelcome.
“Perhaps because Midgardian technology lacks… elegance.”
You froze.
Slowly turned.
And there he was.
Loki.
Standing like he owned the place, hands clasped behind his back, dressed in dark green and black like a walking bad decision.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said flatly.
He tilted his head. “And yet, here I am.”
“Great. Love that for me.”
Loki had been staying—detained, technically—at the compound for weeks now. Some sort of uneasy alliance. Something about “rehabilitation,” which you were pretty sure was code for we don’t trust you but we don’t want you unsupervised either.
You had avoided him. Successfully.
Until now.
He stepped closer, eyeing your work. “What is this?”
“Something way out of your league,” you shot back.
A smirk tugged at his lips. “Bold words for someone whose creation appears to be self-destructing.”
You slammed a key. “It’s not self-destructing. It’s… aggressively recalibrating.”
“Ah. Of course.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like… brood dramatically in a corner?”
“I was bored.”
“Go be bored somewhere else.”
“No.”
You stared at him.
He stared back.
And annoyingly—you realized—he wasn’t backing down.
“Why are you here?” you asked.
“Curiosity.”
“About what?”
“You.”
You blinked.
“…Me?”
“Yes.” His gaze sharpened. “The daughter of Tony Stark. Genius, if the whispers are true. Sharp-tongued. Difficult.”
“Wow,” you deadpanned. “You’ve really done your research.”
“And yet,” he continued, ignoring the sarcasm, “you avoid me.”
“Yeah. That’s not a mystery.”
“Enlighten me.”
You stood up, crossing your arms. “You attacked New York. My home. My dad nearly died because of you. So yeah—if I don’t exactly want to chat over tea, I think that’s reasonable.”
Something flickered in his expression.
Gone in a second.
“Ah,” he said quietly. “Still holding onto that.”
“Yeah,” you snapped. “Funny how consequences work.”
There was silence.
Not awkward.
Not exactly.
Just… heavy.
Then Loki did something unexpected.
He stepped closer—but not in a threatening way.
In a curious way.
“You are not what I expected.”
You frowned. “What did you expect?”
“Someone softer,” he said. “Someone who would rely on her father’s name.”
You scoffed. “Please. I’ve spent my whole life trying not to be just ‘Tony Stark’s daughter.’”
“And yet,” Loki murmured, circling slightly, “you carry his fire.”
“Yeah?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “And what do you carry? Besides a superiority complex?”
He chuckled.
Actually chuckled.
“Touché.”
You didn’t know when the shift happened.
Maybe it was that conversation.
Maybe it was the next one.
Or the one after that.
But somehow—despite every logical reason not to—you started… talking to him.
It started small.
Snarky comments.
Arguments about science vs magic.
You refusing to admit magic made any sense.
Him refusing to admit your tech impressed him.
(It absolutely did.)
One night, you found him in the lab again.
Of course you did.
“You’re becoming a problem,” you said, walking in.
He didn’t look up from the holographic projection. “Am I?”
“Yes. This is my lab.”
“And yet, here I am.”
“You’re really stuck on that line, huh?”
You paused when you noticed what he was looking at.
Your project.
The one that kept failing.
“…What are you doing?” you asked slowly.
“Observing.”
“You don’t understand half of that.”
“Perhaps not,” he said calmly. “But I understand patterns. Energy. Instability.”
You hesitated.
“…And?”
He gestured. “Your issue is not the design. It is the balance.”
You crossed your arms. “Explain.”
And he did.
Not in equations.
Not in code.
But in concepts.
Magic concepts.
Energy flow.
Control versus chaos.
You hated how much it made sense.
Hours later—
“Wait—wait, run it again,” you said.
The simulation restarted.
This time—
It worked.
Perfectly.
You stared at the screen.
Then at him.
“…I hate that you were right.”
He smiled, soft and almost—almost—gentle. “You’re welcome.”
That was the moment everything changed.
You started seeking him out.
Not on purpose.
(Okay, maybe a little on purpose.)
He challenged you.
Pushed you.
Saw things differently.
And for the first time in a long time, someone wasn’t just treating you like Tony Stark’s daughter.
He treated you like… you.
One evening, you found yourselves on the balcony overlooking the city.
Lights glittered below.
Wind soft around you.
“You don’t belong here,” Loki said suddenly.
You glanced at him. “That’s a bit rich coming from you.”
“I mean it,” he said. “You are… more.”
You leaned against the railing. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.”
“Oh yeah? Enlighten me, oh wise god.”
He stepped closer.
Too close.
“You are brilliant,” he said softly. “But you hide behind sarcasm. You pretend not to care—but you care deeply. You fear becoming your father… and yet you admire him more than anyone.”
Your breath caught.
“…Stop.”
“Why?” he asked gently.
“Because you’re not supposed to see that.”
“And yet,” he murmured, echoing his earlier words, “here I am.”
You looked away.
Heart racing.
“Why do you care?” you asked quietly.
There was a pause.
Long.
Heavy.
Then—
“Because,” Loki said, voice lower now, “you see me, too.”
You turned back to him.
Slowly.
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes,” you insisted. “You’re—”
“A villain?” he offered.
“…complicated.”
He smiled faintly. “As are you.”
You didn’t realize how close you were until you felt it.
The shift.
The tension.
The pull.
“Loki—” you started.
But you didn’t finish.
Because he kissed you.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t gentle.
It was charged.
Like lightning and fire colliding.
You should have pushed him away.
You didn’t.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, your first instinct was—
“This is a terrible idea.”
“Undoubtedly,” he agreed.
“Like, genuinely awful.”
“Catastrophic.”
You looked at him.
“…Do you regret it?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“No.”
You exhaled slowly.
“Yeah,” you said. “Me neither.”
Of course, nothing stayed simple.
It never did.
You were an Avenger’s daughter.
He was Loki.
There were arguments.
Tension.
Moments where you wondered if trusting him was a mistake.
Moments where he pulled away, like he didn’t deserve this—you.
One night, you found him packing.
Your stomach dropped.
“You’re leaving.”
It wasn’t a question.
He didn’t look at you. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because this—” he gestured between you “—is dangerous.”
“Everything is dangerous,” you snapped.
“This is different.”
“Yeah,” you said, stepping closer. “It is. Because it matters.”
He froze.
“You don’t get to decide for me,” you continued. “You don’t get to push me away because you think you’re protecting me.”
“I am protecting you.”
“No,” you said firmly. “You’re running.”
Silence.
Then—
“Perhaps I am,” he admitted.
You softened slightly.
“…Loki.”
He finally looked at you.
And for once—there was no mask.
No arrogance.
Just… him.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he said quietly.
You stepped closer.
“That’s okay,” you said. “Neither do I.”
You took his hand.
Warm.
Real.
“Stay,” you said.
For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t.
Then—
He squeezed your hand.
“…Very well.”
You smiled.
“Good. Because I just fixed that energy system and I still need your annoying magical input.”
You were banished for the danger you posed — not to Asgard, but to him. Before Loki’s fall, you were everything he wasn’t meant to have: powerful, unafraid, and bound to him by something deeper than magic. Now, years later, you're summoned home… and find him alive, unchanged, and burning in your veins like he never left. You knew his magic by touch. And the moment you feel it again — you remember everything.
Loki x powerful fem!sorcerer!reader
You hadn’t stepped foot in Asgard in over three years.
Not since the battle that nearly burned your hands to ash. Not since Odin’s command stripped you of your title and sent you to exile in the outer realms — too wild, too unpredictable, too close to the second son.
Not since Loki "died."
But now you were back. Summoned in silence. The High Council needed your knowledge of ancient magic — dark magic — the kind that moved in riddles and bled through veils.
You should have refused.
You didn’t.
And now, walking through the golden halls again — older, sharper, still half-haunted by your past — you felt it.
Not the palace. Not the court.
Him.
His magic slid over your skin before you reached the library doors. Cold, calculated. Familiar like a scar.
You paused in the archway. He was already waiting. Leaning against the far window, backlit in fading sunlight, dressed in black and green as if time had never moved.
But it had.
And so had you.
“I thought you were dead,” you said.
Loki didn’t turn. “A popular belief.”
“You let me grieve.”
“I let you live.”
That made you flinch. Because it was true.
Back then — before the chaos, before his fall — you’d been more than aligned. He had shown you magic without boundaries. You had shown him how it could be shaped by something other than pain. Together, you were devastating.
And dangerous.
Odin saw it. He separated you first. Banished you after.
And Loki? He let it happen.
Until he vanished. Until the stars whispered he was gone.
You moved further into the library. He watched you now — silent, unreadable.
“I thought of you,” he said. “In the dark places.”
You swallowed. “I didn’t think you could.”
He stepped closer. The air around you shifted. Your magic responded before you could stop it — rising like heat, reaching for his.
“I never stopped,” he said, quieter now. “I tried. I tried to forget how your power felt.”
You shook your head. “You never knew how to feel it. You only ever took.”
“No,” Loki said, voice raw. “Not you. I let you see it.”
He was in front of you now. The energy between your bodies sang — old magic, threaded with memory.
“You knew my magic by touch,” he whispered. “You always did.”
Your throat tightened. “And I felt it leave me the night they dragged me away.”
His hand lifted — slow, uncertain. But you didn’t pull back. Not this time.
Fingers brushed your jaw.
The connection struck instantly.
The threads of your magic tangled with his in the space between breaths — hot and cold, memory and grief, power and want. You saw flashes behind your eyes: the night you first touched, your hands pressed together over a spell too old to be named; his voice in your mind during your exile, calling your name like prayer.
Tears stung your eyes. You hadn’t meant to let them.
“I would’ve destroyed them for you,” he said, shaking now. “If you’d asked.”
“I didn’t want destruction,” you whispered. “I wanted you.”
His lips hovered close, breath shallow.
“Then take me now. Not as I was. As I am.”
You kissed him.
And gods — it wasn’t careful.
It was raw. Desperate. Years of absence unraveling in seconds. His hands tangled in your robes, your fingers gripping his collar like he might vanish again. Magic flared around you — runes glowing in the walls, scrolls rattling on shelves.
It wasn’t just love. It was recognition.
When you pulled back, your foreheads touched, breath mingling.
“I never stopped being yours,” you whispered.
“I knew that,” he said. “I felt it. Every time I reached for magic, I felt you.”
And he kissed you again, like you were the only spell he couldn’t undo.
pairing: Loki x gn!reader - established relationship
type: ficlet (1.6 K)
idea: gifted by an ask, which inspired me immediately (prompts are closed)
warnings: reader is feeling down, romantickly fluff
Enjoy lovelies & happy Halloween
It is one of these more quiet halloween evenings. Still, you were pacing home, a large pumpkin under one arm and a bag of groceries under the other.
When you entered your apartment, you could feel the warm, gentle breeze of the heating. Loki’s voice, humming to a song from the kitchen-radio, welcomed you. A heavy sigh left your lungs, you felt the wooden door in your back, as well as relieved to be home.
„Darling? Is everything alright?“, Loki looked around the corner, a kitchen towel hanging over his shoulder. You looked up from your spot on the floor, nodded and shook your head right afterwards. In the mere seconds of your arrival, your legs have given in, seeking a comforting pose. Bend in-front of your chest, chin resting on the knees, some little snack packages tumbled out of the bag next to you. The rather huge pumpkin, a little odd in shape, was haunting you since you bought it, last minute.
Loki walked closer, a concerned look on his face: „What is it? Did something happen at the store?“, you shook your head.
„At work?“, another silent ‚no‘ from you, followed by: „My sibling“
„Are they hurt?“
„No, they are done already“
„Done… with what?“
„Family tradition“, you sighed.
His eyebrows went up: „Which one? Your family has so many“
A little grumpy rumbling left your lips: „Don’t tease!“
„Oh, dear… I cannot help it. It is so easy to tease you. And pleasant.“
„Pffft…“
„Tell me. What tradition have they fulfilled already?“ The tip of your index finger pointed sharply at the orange vegetable, sitting side by side with you on the floor.
„I do not understand, I’m afraid“
You sighed, moving the back of your head against the door, with closed eyes. „We carve those. It’s a human thing for halloween“
„Ah…?“
„We always did that together. But since they moved for their new job across the country? We had to agree to do it on our own, sharing a photo or a video call later… with the spooky fellas.“
„So, it is still early enough to start, isn't it?“
You didn’t answer. „Love?“
„I don’t feel well. I don’t feel creative at all and look“, you hand him your phone with the fancy pumpkin and your sibling, smiling widely. „They are so talented. And I miss them…“
Loki hummed, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze and left, to put away the groceries. He returned to carry the heavy veggie to the kitchen counter, you could hear his low, velvety voice from the other room. Still, you couldn’t open your eyes or get off the tiles. It was one of those days, when you survived the every-day outside but returned home, drained from it. Sometimes, the overwhelming feeling of the world-weariness, the constant understaffed work and the heart-ache from missing your sibling dearly, got you here. On the floor of your apartment. Sighing and without strength left in your limbs.
„Love?“ „Hmm?“, you hummed, eyes still closed.
„There is someone who likes to talk to you“. You opened your eyes, brows sceptic above them. Your sibling was smiling and waving from Loki’s phone-screen at you. Your gaze wandered between them and your favorite Asgardian, astonished.
A couple of minutes later, you sat down on one of your bar stools, a steaming cup of tea next to the pumpkin in-front of you: „How? What?“
„I was instructed to remove the inner mush of this“, Loki gestured toward the pumpkin.
„You did that with your bare hands?!“, You asked in disbelief.
„Of course not. What ever do I have my seidr for?!“
A giggle escaped your lips: „Of course. Your magic is handy, indeed.“
Loki kissed your cheek, whispering: „You carve, I cook“
While Loki, during his time on Midgard, found his liking not only in the human sitting opposite of him now, but in cooking as well. A pumpkin soup was soon simmering on the stove, while you? „You haven’t even started?“
Your eyes, wide and a little sad still, looked over the enormous vegetable: „No…“
“Love?”
„Loki, no“
„It’s just a pumpkin. Just… use your little carving knife and… do it“
„Don’t mock me. And dohon’t make me laugh either. Pumpkin carving is a serious human business.“
„Oh, I am already well aware of that. Having your sibling telling me every important thing about it. And I didn’t mock you.“ He caught a sceptic look again.
„I didn’t… oh, I know the perfect motivation for you to start immediately.“
„What might that be?“
„If you don’t start the carving right away“, the raven-haired man walked around the isle.
„Yes?“
„I’ll do the thing“, he whispered against your ear.
„The thing?! The… oh, no. No, no, no. You wouldn’t“
„Certainly, I would“
„Dohon’t you dahare, Loki!! I have a weapon“
„And I could let the little dagger disappear with my seidr. Your choice, start or…“
„Wait, wait, wait…“, you already giggled, feeling his elegant fingers over yours, grabbing the knife carefully, while you were pressed against his body. Loki, standing behind you, his other arm laid around your waist, chuckled: „Oh, my sweet midgardian angel, are you ready to start this tradition of yours?“
„Noho, Lohoki… pleahease… Nahaha-Ha!“, you squeaked, feeling his knowing fingertips prodding gentle yet teasingly at your waist.
„Let us lift your spirits a little, love“
Your giggles fell from your lips, softly. „I have the feeling this“, his fingers ran spider-like up your waist and over your ribs: „this might do the trick“
„Ehehehey!“
With the left hand, you got hold of his wrist, more seeking support instead of a proper try to stop him. You could feel the vibration of his own amusement, your back was pressed against his torso. The back of your head fell against his chest, looking up at your partner, while his smile was caressing your laughing features. His fingertips were seeking the well known nerve-spots under your skin, which made you giggle. His smile was soft yet mischievous, while admiring you.
„You are adorable“, he chuckled. You felt his wandering fingertips, heading to your upper ribs and further. Since the two of you got a couple, your extraterrestrial boyfriend always found a way to lighten your mood. His wit was one option. Reading to you another. Teasing you like this was a shared favorite, knowing there would be a clear stop, if one party asked of it. Nothing of this was necessary right now. You were in need of the free-spirited laughter, the gentle hug, the soft teasing of your most vulnerable spots to simply be.
His right index finger poked underneath your arm, suddenly. While his left arm was still trapping you softly, his fingertips of that hand were spidering over your upper ribs. Your carving tool? Gone. Somewhere else entirely. Your mind couldn’t follow that thought, it followed his movements at every second.
His breath caressed your neck, feather-light, before you knew, you were doomed: „Nohahaa…“, you squeaked. His lips attacked the side of your neck with raspberries, teasing your sensitive skin, alongside his fingertips haunting your weak spots at the very same time.
„Ehenough, plehease…“, you shrieked and Loki stopped. You could feel his grin still against your neck, his lips were kissing your skin gentile. A couple of giggles erupted from you, in the moment of recovery: „Youhu are suhuch a menace.“
„Oh, I know. God of mischief. It is my duty to be a menace.“, he whispered, chuckling.
„How lucky for me, you’re my mehenace.“
„Indeed, lucky you.“
„Now, will you start this already?“, Loki pointed at the pumpkin, while you were eating the soup he made, side by side: „No“ „No?“, his eyebrows curled in disbelief: „Do you need another round of motivation, after dinner?“, he squeezed your hip a couple of times.
„Stohop tickling me.“, you laughed in shock and tried to fight off his teasing hand: „Ahand let me tell you, why I won’t start to carve.“
„Tell me, little human.“
„I won’t carve this pumpkin tonight.“, you swiftly moved out of his reach, not wanting to be poked again: „Wahait, let me explain!“
„I am all ears, love“, he whispered, poking you, when your upper body was within reach for him again. The door bell rang, making you jump from the stool excited. „Saved by the trick or treaters“, you cheered. You put some of the tiny snack bags into their baskets, complimenting their creative make-up, creepy costumes or both. Door closed. Another one rang.
When you finally returned, you giggled: „We will do it togehether.“
„I beg you pardon?“
„The carving.“
„Not a chance.“
„Pleaaaaaase?“
„Absolutely not.“
„PLEAAAAAASE“
„Now youhou are a menace.“
„Good thing you are unable to withstand my wishes“, you winked and your knowing smile morphed into a remarkable pout. He rolled his eyes, grinning: „Alright, alright. I yield.“ You giggled and hugged him, kissing his cheek: „this will be our new tradition“
„Having me do all the work, huh?“, he chuckled, caressing over your head.
„Oh, wait… no, not all the work! I bought it and brought it home. You scooped it and made the most delish soup“, you winked: „and set up the carving station“
„And now what?“
„Now, I’ll do the dishes and afterwards we carve it together.“
The two of you couldn’t decide, what should be carved into the autumnal veggie, at first. After a rather wild list of options, ranging from his silhouette with helmet and all (his idea) over to Thor’s hammer (your idea), the two of you decided on the classic pumpkin face.
„You have pumpkin mush in your hair, oh dear god of mischief.“, you giggled and removed it.
„I fear, that is part of this tradition, is it not?“, he grabbed a little piece of it from your cheek as well. You looked up at him, his gaze meeting yours, softly: „Thank you.“
„For removing this piece of pumpkin?“
„Yes, and more. Thank you for doing this, for taking care of me tonight - being the sweet, gentle menace, I love.“ „Always“
A/N: I had an idea for a scene where the reader is hidden on Asgard while the Avengers fight a threat for her back on Earth. Loki is stuck being the host, but he really doesn’t mind. She doesn’t feel like she fits into Loki’s world, but Loki has a different opinion.
Enjoy 🤘🏼
It had been a miracle that you managed to slip away from the celebration. While the Asgardians certainly knew how to throw a party, your social battery had been drained from the past few weeks.
You had agreed, when the team suggested you lay low for the time being. Earth was too chaotic, too unsafe for you right now. The largest target was on your back, and the only way to keep the people you cared about safe from harm was to leave.
Carol had many planets she offered to take you to. One where it was summer all year long, and the beaches were the most beautiful in the galaxy. You had declined. When Quill offered to pick you up for a time to travel with the guardians, you declined. But when Thor offered to take you to Asgard and have Loki stay to keep you company…
You shook your head at the memory. How stupid it seemed now.
You had slipped out of the ballroom, taking great care to not be followed. It was difficult adjusting to the Asgardian fashion. Frigga had sent up many fine dresses of various fabric and color. Tonight you selected an elegant royal blue dress that exposed most of your back and shoulders. You had a long silk shaw to match, and the ends of it billowed behind you as you hurried down the hallway towards your room.
You could still hear the music and laughter pouring from the ballroom as you shut the door right behind you. Immediately your body relaxed. You kicked off your shoes and meandered your way to the vanity table. You began to undo your earrings when you heard the door click open.
“Turning in early I see,” Loki said, shutting the door as he entered. You watched him from the mirror, and were struck by the beauty of him in his green and gold clothes. “I do believe the party was just getting started.”
“Leave me be,” you muttered. Loki rolled his eyes and made his way toward your bed. He sat on the corner closest to you.
“What kind of host would I be if I left you unattended during a party?” He kept his voice playful, but there was concern ridden in his blue eyes. It had been a strange few weeks. The two of you agreed it would be best to keep this relationship, or whatever it was that had grown between the two of you on Earth, under wraps while in Asgard. Loki had his reasons, all in good nature, he had promised, but still he was tight lipped about it all. You wondered what kind of customs Asgardians practiced when it came to intimacy, and you were too embarrassed to ask.
You sighed as you removed the rings and bracelets from your hands. They had been gifts from him, far too beautiful for the occasion. Your hands began to move towards your neck to unhook the maze of necklaces, but Loki was up in a flash.
“Allow me,” he said. He pushed your hair aside to one shoulder in a delicate motion. His hands were cool on the back of your neck, and you had to stop yourself from shivering. Carefully, began to unclasp each necklace and place them on the vanity.
“Tell me what troubles you, my love,” Loki said. He looked at you through the mirror's reflection. You stared at each other for a moment as Loki undid the last necklace. His fingers seemed to linger a bit on your shoulder, giving you the smallest of caresses.
The touch heated your blood and you stood from the vanity, turning to face him. His eyes searched yours, all amusement gone from his expression. Moonlight pooled in from your window, casting a beautiful pale light across Loki’s features. He was so ethereally beautiful that it hurt to look at him sometimes. You longed to touch him. To be able to openly touch him and love him as unabashedly as you had on Earth.
“I would prefer not talk about it tonight. Please, leave.” You whispered. You hated turning him away, but your heart and mind were too muddled and weary to feel anything else.
Hurt flashed across his face for a moment, but he quickly composed himself and simply shrugged. “As you wish.”
He strode a few steps forward, leaving you where you stood. You turned away, waiting for the door to slam shut after him but it never came.
“Have I done something to offend you?” He asked, facing the door. He slowly turned around as you looked at him. “If I have done anything, y/n, please let me correct it. You know I hate it when you're angry with me, darling. Please, tell me what I've done.”
His words rattled your resolve. You bit your lip to keep it from trembling. Your emotions from the past few weeks began to overflow, and it took all your strength to keep the tears at bay.
“It’s not you, Loki. It’s me,” you said, your voice cracked on the last word. Loki’s gaze softened immediately, any facade of anger or amusement gone. He stepped forward, placing his hands on your elbows.
“Y/n-“
You stepped back from his grip and began to pace the length of your room.
“I don’t belong here, Loki. This whole thing was a mistake.”
“What?” Loki ask incredulously. “Who the hell told you that nonsense? I shall have their tongues removed-”
“No one- I told myself that. Because it’s true. I don’t fit in here.” Tears brimmed the edge of your eyes. You silently cursed yourself for being so emotional. Why should it matter if you didn’t fit in here? Why did you care so much? It wasn't as if this was a permanent situation. You would be leaving just as soon as things settled down on Earth. Why did the idea of leaving hurt just as bad? They were answers you hadn’t been able to find in the time you had been on Asgard.
You expected Loki to laugh. It sounded ridiculous enough in your head and saying it out loud didn’t give the words anymore validity. But still, your heart twinged at the thought. But he didn’t. Instead he just stood there, looking thoughtfully at you, as if he understood.
“You are unhappy here…”
You winced at the sadness that lingered in his sultry voice. You stopped pacing and took refuge by sitting on the edge of your bed.
“It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed my time here. Truly, your home is beautiful- it’s magnificent. Everyone here has been nothing short of generous, especially your mother, but I just-“
You took a ragged breath. “I’m just a human. A human that made a very big mistake to have to be hidden away. I’m a mess. I don’t fit in here- amongst gods in their golden palace. I’m not like you Loki.”
“I believe you and I are more alike than you’d care to admit. And you are so much more than just a human.” You blinked at him, shocked by his response. He didn’t seem angry, or even the slightest bit annoyed by your explanation. Instead, a hint of playfulness danced in his eyes. He moved closer to you extending out his hand.
“May I show you something?” He asked. You opened your mouth to object but he just clicked his tongue, cutting you off. “If you still wish to leave afterwards I will have Heimdall take you anywhere you’d wish to go. Just- humor me for a moment. Please?”
You gave him an uncertain look, but the small grin on his face made your heart lurch in your chest. You placed your hand in his and followed him as he led you out of your room.
“Loki- my shoes…” you began as your bare feet hit the cool marble walkway outside of your room.
“Don’t worry, darling, you won’t need them. Come, quickly before someone sees us.”
The two of you ran through the palace. Loki kept the two of you close to the dark passage ways, making sure to stay clear from any other person that lingered the halls. Music from the ballroom could still be heard across the palace. It’s fast tempo gave the ground beneath your feet a heartbeat.
Loki held you close, never letting go of your hand as the two of you ducked into a single spiraled stairwell. Unexpectedly, he swept you off your feet and began to carry you as he ran up the stairs. You let out a swell of laughter as the two of you ascended, wrapping your arms around his neck for support. You fought the urge to kiss him, biting your bottom lip as you held him.
Once you made it to the top, Loki gently put you down and took your hand again. He walked with you this time, following the corridor until the entrance arched into a beautiful awning. Your eyes widened at the sight of Asgard in the starlight. The city seemed to dance underneath the moonlight, and the glow from the Bifrost glimmered in the distance.
You leaned on the stone edge balcony, letting the ends of your shawl blow loosely in the wind. Loki stepped closer beside you, the left side of your body felt warmed by his presence.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmured.
“As are you,” Loki said. You felt your cheeks burn as the compliment. “Do you know why I offered to bring you here?”
The question stunned you. The whole time you had assumed your placement here had been Thor’s idea. Loki took your silence as an answer and continued.
“I wanted you to come here because I could not think of any other place you deserved to be.”
Loki looked out onto the expanse of Asgard. His eyes grew soft at the sight of his home. “When I found out the truth of my past, I felt exactly as you feel now. Unworthy. And then when I continued to make mistake, after mistake-“
Loki’s voice broke. You placed your hand on top of his and held on tightly. He gave you a small smile and ran his thumb over your fingers. It was the most contact you two had since your arrival. Loki had been called away on official duties, standing in for Thor in his absence by attending meetings with Odin. But even this simple touch seemed to sustain the both of you.
“Asgard is a difficult place to call home. Especially for those of us that were not born from its glory. I have fought bitterly for my place here. I have hurt many who loved me for the sake of it, and have worked tirelessly to amend these wrongs and yet it often does not feel enough.”
Loki turned to you, taking both of your hands in his.
“I do not deserve it, but I am a son of Odin. I am a prince of Asgard, despite it all. And you,” his fingers tipped your chin up gently, moving your face closer to his. “From the moment I met you, I knew you belonged here. Even on Earth, in those quiet moments we shared together, your mind- your soul, you always reminded me of home.”
Tears were falling down your face now. Your body hitched with a small laugh as Loki wiped a tear away.
“I hoped you would fall in love with Asgard. Hoped that I could share with you one of the few parts of my life that I am actually proud of. I never wanted it to make you feel less than you are. And to me y/n, you are everything.”
Loki pulled his hands away for a moment. He held them out before you as magic illuminated around his palms. A thin silver crown made of silver vines appeared before Loki. Flecks of gold spilled around the silver, making the crown glimmer in his hands.
Loki looked at you, his gaze as steady and as sure as you’ve ever seen him. Before you stood a god, one that looked as if he would burn the world down for you, and you alone.
"There is beauty in the starlight of every corner of the galaxy, but I have found the one who for me, holds the stars."
"Loki?" you asked breathlessly.
Loki gave a small smile. "I was going to ask you tonight, before all of Asgard, if you would marry me. But as always, you made me change my plans when you left the ball early. "
"Marry you?" you whispered. Loki nodded, his pale blue eyes lit up his face.
“That’s why I was away these last few days. I spoke with my father, my mother, even Thor before we left, to ensure that if you were to accept- you would have your rightful place here with me, as a Princess of Asgard.”
“And-if Asgard does not make you happy my dear, then we can live on Earth. We could live anywhere- wherever you want. As long as I have you, I know I will be home.”
Words seemed to fail you. Tears continued to fall down your face as Loki looked at you with unbearable gentleness. “You would have me then?” You asked. “Despite everything..?”
Loki gave you a heartbreaking smile. He placed his hand on the side of your face and stroked your cheek. “Y/n, love,” he murmured. “I wish you could see yourself as I do. But I will spend the rest of our lives showing you how much you mean to me. I will be there, no matter what else comes your way. I will fight for you, and all you hold dear for the rest of my days."
You smiled as tears ran down your face. The wind blew tendrils of your hair around. You put your hands on Loki’s face, pulling him closer until the tips of your foreheads touched.
“Yes,” you whispered. "Yes, I will marry you."
Loki gave a soft, almost relieved, laugh. He used his free arm and wrapped it around your waist as he brought your body closer to his, until there was mere inches between you. His hand splayed out on the bare back of your dress as he brought you in for a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him deepen the kiss, wanting to be consumed by him in every way. He broke apart, making sure to pepper your tear stained cheeks with light kisses.
He brought up the other hand that held the crown. You rolled his eyes at him as he spun it around his finger.
“A ring would have sufficed,” you teased.
“Not for you, my dear,” he murmured as he gently placed the crown on top of your head. “Nothing in the cosmos could suffice.”
The crown was light on your head. Loki took a step back to get a good look at you and his eyes seemed to darken as he took you in. You felt your face flush as you reached out for him to come back to you. He smiled as he spun you around, causing your dress to twirl in the moonlight. He kissed you again, holding you tightly against the backdrop of the Asgardian moon.
“Does this mean we have to return to the party?” You asked teasingly against his mouth.
“It is technically our engagement party. It would be rude to keep them waiting all night. I believe my mother had a cake made for us.”
He kissed the length of your neck, taking great care to give every exposed part of your skin attention. You smiled and tipped your head back, happiness radiating from every pore in your body.
“Can we wait- a few more minutes?” You asked breathlessly. Your hands traveled up the back of his neck, entangling into his hair as he kissed your collarbones.
“Darling,” he growled into your skin, “if you keep touching me like that, we may never make it back to that party.”
You laughed, letting yourself forget all of the doubt you had held in your heart. Playfulness danced in your eyes as you tipped Loki's face up to yours.
"No rush, or anything dear," you murmured. "But I did leave my shoes in my room."
Loki chuckled, giving you a wicked grin. With that he lifted you into his arms. "Let us make haste then to the bedroom- to retrieve my dear lady love's shoes, of course."
Summary: There’s no simple explanation of the relationship you and Loki have. He teases you, you annoy him, he wants to kill you, you want to fuck him - wait, what? It takes several tries to actually get him to do it, but you’re pretty lucky in getting everything you want.
Pairing(s): Loki Laufeyson x (F) Reader
One-Shot (Inspired by: “Crazy in Love” by Sofia Karlberg)
Warnings: Porn with Plot; mutual masturbation; dirty talk with some pet names (ex. pet, darling, minx); unprotected sex; rough sex (hair pulling, gripping, slight choking); voyeurism and exhibitionism (mild public-sex); sub/dom vibes from both characters; handjobs, oral sex; strong language; 18+ ONLY!!!
Word Count: 11,500+
A/N: This is shameless smut with some plot. I blushed way too hard to write this dude, jesus motherfuck me christ. Enjoy?
~
“I lost my gun.”
The God in front of you huffs and twists around to glare at you in complete disbelief. The music is still blaring down the long hallway, there are random couples kissing and grinding along the wall, and your mics aren’t working properly. As you patted yourself down - making quite a spectacle of yourself as you cupped your thighs, your ass, your waist, and your breasts - the gun was still nowhere to be found. Unzipping your jacket just a smidge, you reach down into the valley of your breasts and move them around. Hip out, shaking of the foot, stretching of the neck. Still, nothing. Obviously. “Yeah, I lost my gun.”
“How could you possibly do that? It’s a gun. It’s your main weapon,” Loki says through gritted teeth. He doesn’t look angry, more annoyed than angry, but if looks could kill…
“It’s not here,” you state the obvious. “Someone must have stole it.”
“Stark hates me. He utterly, completely, truly, absolutely hates me.”
That makes you laugh. There’s really no reason to worry: although you wouldn’t actually be considered enhanced, you did have a special skill kept secret from the general public. You lose your gun, no problem! The enemy’s gun will probably jam anyway. You trip and fall and accidentally set off an explosion? No worries! There weren’t any actual hostages or citizens nearby. You slip down the stairs? Someone just happens to be around the corner to catch you. You were lucky and relied mostly on the series of events in front of you to get you through things. It seemed only Sam and Scott truly believed in your ability; they’ve been witness to countless of weird things and how you never seem to end up with more than a scratch. Loki, on the other hand, regarded your ability as something only Gods obtain and since you were a mere mortal, your “skill” was simply coincidence.
Rolling your eyes, you push past him and into the storage closet for some temporary cover. Loki follows you in no questions asked, but the second the door shuts he has you up against the wall with a tight grip on your upper arms. “Are you really that helpless that you lost your main weapon in the middle of a battle? How idiotic could you possibly be?”
Pushing forward with all your body weight, you shove him off. “Easy for you to say. You can conjure up your weapons. I put mine down for a second and poof.”
“Poof?”
“Poof.”
“You’re going to get us both killed.”
You stifle your laugh and push him back again. He isn’t really holding you all that tightly. “You’re not gonna let that happen. How embarrassing… Loki, the God of literal mischief, dying by the hands of a couple Midgardian gang members.”
He squeezes his eyes shut tightly and rolls his shoulders. His nostrils flare and he shakes out his hair, strands falling over his cheeks. You notice a braid in one of those strands and it almost makes you smile.
“I will conjure up a blade for you, human. Do you know how to use such things?”
You blink at him, completely unimpressed. “I live with two Russian spies. Yeah, I know how to use a knife for something other than cutting meat.”
“Oh-ho,” he breathes out. “But that is what you will be doing. It’s not all that different.”
“Ew,” you grimace.
“Ew,” Loki mocks. He conjures up a silver blade, more like a dagger, and places it in your palm without so much as a look up. He pulls open the closet door and rolls his shoulders again. “I don’t know how you keep coming home alive.”
Stepping out with him, you shrug lightly. “I really don’t know either.”
“If you die one of these days, I feel as though I could have prevented it.”
“You’d feel guilty? Aw, you’re going to protect me?”
Loki stops at the corner of the hallway where the turn into the office is currently guarded. Four guards outside, five voices inside. They have machine guns, but Loki has his magic, and you are somewhat better at hand-to-hand than shooting anyway. “Not going to protect you. I feel as if I should tell the Captain or Stark to bench you permanently for risk of you accidentally shooting yourself.”
Before you could bite back, Loki rounds the corner and the fight begins. All in all, you got out with only a bruised lip. Loki didn’t need to protect you after all, but he swears the fight could have ended five minutes earlier if you had your first weapon of choice.
You still have no idea where that gun went.
~
“He’s a flirt out in the field.”
Loki makes this alarmed and scandalized noise to your far left and Bucky just about chokes on every laugh bursting from his chest. The God is sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, shoulder-length hair not doing much in covering his increasing blush, and wearing a nice, dark navy blue suit. He kind of looks like a CEO who just heard he lost millions because of his team’s split-second decision.
“I was not flirting. I am not a flirt.”
Rolling your eyes and waving a hand in the air, you don’t even look to him as you continue speaking. “He’s absolutely lying. God, if you could hear the way he bullies me and grips my arms to throw me around -”
“That’s quite enough.” He still looks so scandalized. Tony is hiding his face behind his hands and Bucky has already excused himself from the briefing room. You can feel the God glaring daggers through your smirk.
“I think,” Tony tries, but a quiet laugh (that sounds like a literal whine) interrupts him. He tries again, “The mission could have gone better. I applaud you for working so well together.” He takes a deep breath and tilts his head up, revealing the tears of laughter that had leaked. “You won’t have to go into the field again this month unless necessary.”
“Thank the Norns,” Loki sighs and goes to stand from his chair. He’s hoping for a quick escape, but Stark never lets him go so easily. There always had to be one mortified agent or Avenger to taunt during Friday movie nights.
“Now hold on a second.” Tony finally catches his breath, tears no longer shining. “Y/LN, your error put the whole mission in jeopardy and while I don’t take much satisfaction in saying this -” Tony clutches his chest. “You could have gotten your partner seriously hurt. You know we can’t trust your abilities fully without more experiments. Therefore!”
Oh, great. You expected a private punishment, something Loki wouldn’t have to witness. If this was anything like the time you got stuck climbing out the bathroom window in the President’s private suite, then it would be embarrassing.
“Extra training with Cap in hand-to-hand, Wilson will get you over your fear of heights for the hell of it, and you have two days to learn how to disassemble and put together an automatic rifle - Manchurian Candidate can help with that. Anything you don’t accomplish means you no longer get to pick dinners for Friday nights.”
It was such a mild punishment for putting a teammate’s life in danger and jeopardizing a mission. Well, to anyone who didn’t know you, at least. Steve hit hard, you were fucking terrified of heights, and rifles… really? You were one of the only ones in the compound who absolutely loved Mexican food and Friday nights were the perfect excuse to order some. You lose your day, you’ll have to suffer Steve’s choice restaurant of fish and chips again. And that place never used salt.
As previously stated, it’s such a mild punishment. Pointless really. But it still causes your mouth to drop due to Tony’s fucking audacity. “You wouldn’t.”
“We don’t just lose our guns out in the field, Y/LN. I could take this all the way up to Fury…”
“Nope, I got it,” you stutter out really quickly. “All good.”
Tony nods happily and leaves you alone with Loki, who’s still gripping the door handle mid-exit. There was absolutely no point for him to stay and hear that, and Loki fucking knows it too, because he’s grinning from ear to ear.
“I cannot believe you’re surprised by such a miniscule repercussion.”
“I cannot believe you’re still here.”
“Darling, to hear you’re being punished because you put my life in danger… well, it’s quite sensual wouldn’t you say?”
Standing from your seat and giving him a straight middle finger, you push past him and to the elevator. “Sensual? I’m basically being put in time-out. Don’t make it into something it’s not.”
“And what if I had actually gotten hurt?” He jogs into the elevator with you and ignores the way you quietly groan because of it. “What type of punishment would you have gotten?”
“Don’t know, don’t care. Never gotten a punishment that’s been horrible.” You’re avoiding eye contact, he notices this. He enjoys this game of cat and mouse with you. Everyday it’s something different.
‘Loki, get your dirty feet off my dash.’
‘Loki, I swear to whatever Gods exist in this universe, I’ll poison you if you steal any more cookies from that tray.’
‘Stab me, I dare you. Natalia will kill you six different ways within the hour.’
Oh, yes. He thoroughly enjoys this. The heat in your eyes and how they widen when you’re arguing. The way you run your hand through your hair and tug near the base of your neck. The way your hip juts out when you’re the one mocking him. The tremble in your voice as it grows louder but not from nerves, rather a tremble from the strain in your throat. Tiny fists clenching and playing with your jacket zippers or picking at your cuticles. He really enjoys pushing your buttons.
“That’s a pity. I can think of a few punishments that fit the crime.”
The elevator dings. “Oh, going all fifty shades on me?”
“I don’t understand that reference,” Loki says, catching the doors from closing as you step out onto your floor. “My punishments would be rather enjoyable.”
“Your punishments?” You push out a laugh and wave goodbye as you open your bedroom door. “In your dreams, Loki.”
~
Sam chooses to start a mini-series rather than put on a movie this Friday night. Bridgerton, Sam sounds out as he clicks through the home screen, Hey! There’s black people dressed as royalty in this! Fucking finally!
Tony lets you order your Mexican food anyway but reminds you that your first sparring lesson with Steve starts tomorrow. He warns you not to swallow down too many beans.
Three episodes in and everyone is insanely intrigued. Dishes are passed around, plates piled high, and even Loki looks rather interested in the show’s plot. He mumbles over to Thor every once in a while, complimenting the attire or the delivery of some line, and it’s worrying how many times you have to hide your smile through it all.
When the sex scenes start, everyone’s eyes are blown wide. They’re choreographed to an extreme degree and are rather long sequences. Bruce adjusts his glasses every other exaggerated moan; Natasha is recording Steve’s reaction to it all; Bucky and Sam are nodding in approval and piling food into their mouths; Thor is tilting his head and trying his best to cover Wanda’s eyes, even though she’s slapping his eyes away; Tony’s commenting on every single damn movement; and Loki, well, Loki’s looking between the screen and you.
Everytime a scene ends, the team gets a breather. But the show is dedicated to making sex a main plotline and the team goes crazy again. Every single damn time, Loki looks over at you.
When the Duke instructs Daphne on how to pleasure herself, you’re in need of some air. “Gonna go get more food.” Your whisper goes unheard, however, as everyone is leaning closer to the screen.
You’re in the middle of pouring yourself more lemonade when you feel a presence behind you. Putting the lemonade down quickly, you spin on your heel with the thought of screaming about the fright. But once you’re turned all the way, Loki’s palm goes to cover your mouth and his body pushes against yours and into the counter. He’s significantly taller, much more intimidating pressed against you, and his eyes are sparkling with that mischief you’ve all become cautious of.
He waits until you’ve stopped fidgeting to speak. “I have a punishment in mind.”
Forcibly pulling his hand away is a challenge, but he lets you overpower him. “Really? Are you serious right now?”
Your voices aren’t loud; in fact, you're practically whispering in each other’s ears.
That sparkle shines brighter. “What? You think I was just going to let it go?”
“What in the world makes you think I would ever fuck you, Loki?”
“I haven’t even told you what my punishment entails, and yet, you’re the one who offers it,” Loki smirks. He’s all suave and confident but there’s a tint of pink reaching his cheeks. It flusters him, hearing you talk that way, but his hips are pressed against yours and he figures he still has the upper hand.
“What do you want me to say? Fuck me? Punish me? Use me?” You seriously don’t know why you’re saying these things. The easy thing to do would be to walk away or talk louder - maybe that’ll attract attention and Loki will be too flustered to continue this spiel.
“Keep talking like that and I promise to do all those things.”
There it is. Still, his cocky grin is making the fire in your head burn harder. Every pull of his thin upper lip simply sparks more agitation. “Bite me, Loki. I’m not someone who just fucks and drops the person.”
He shrugs almost nonchalantly. “So, don’t drop me. We’re both adults, we’re working people with cravings and desires. There doesn’t need to be more to this.” He runs his thumb along your jawline and hooks it underneath your chin, tilting your head up higher to meet your eyes. “And I would very much like to bite you.”
You’re silent for a moment, processing his words to the brim. You hadn’t had a relationship in so long (there was never any time with how often aliens fell from the sky) and no one was exactly lining up to sleep with you. So the pleasurable twinge near the base of your stomach startles you and it only pulses harder when Loki experimentally rolls his hips against yours. Widening your eyes, you refuse to look away from his forceful gaze. If you were to do that now, he’d know he has you wrapped around his finger.
But the processing comes to halt as you realize what he has just offered. It actually makes you stifle a loud laugh. “Is a literal God of Norse mythology offering up the possibility of a ‘friends with benefits’ type deal? Is this seriously happening to me right now?”
“You’re thinking too much of it.” He doesn’t seem fazed at all.
“And? Loki, you wanted to kill me yesterday. I wanted to kill you. And now suddenly -”
“Suddenly, I want to ravish every inch of your skin and prove that I can pleasure you.”
You study him carefully. His breath is coming out shorter than usual, his hands are gripping the sides of your hips the slightest bit tighter, and his eyes are darting back and forth between yours. Your mouth twitches into a knowing smile. “Oh my god, the show turned you on!”
He’s quiet in his movements. Stealthy, but you blame the magic mostly. Everyone is so fascinated by the show that no one hears the palms of your hands smacking to catch your weight as Loki shoves you around. His chest is now connected to your back and he makes it plainly obvious that he’s enjoying making you submit. Not that you ever would, but he’s clearly bigger and taller and can easily overpower you. Those simple checkboxes are gripping that pleasurable coil, heating it to the extreme, and threatening to snap it apart. Or maybe it already has, because there’s discomfort in your panties and it takes only a moment for you to feel your excitement pass through your bottom lips and settle on the once virgin lace. Loki has a hand covering your mouth and his other pressed firmly against your stomach. “Careful, pet. Any more teasing and I might just have to fuck you right here, right now.”
“Mmpf.”
He chuckles, hot breath hitting your ear and making your eyes roll back. He continues, voice lower and hoarse. “When’s the last time you’ve been properly fucked?”
You could fight. If you even attempted to escape his hold, Loki would let you go. There would be no actual fight. But he speaks and his voice melts against your skin like candle wax and tickles your common sense dumb. “I bet it’s been ages. It’s been ages for me too, I hate to admit.”
He rolls his hips, flat against your ass, and that has you purring quietly. Your eyes dart to the door where anyone can walk through and refill their drinks and plates. One simple flap, just push open those conjoined doors, and see you bent over the counter with Loki directly behind you, at his mercy and ready to be fucked senseless. He doesn’t even give you time to respond, your purring is enough, and he dares trail his long fingers to the button of your pants. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me fucking you on this counter while everyone watches? What would your precious Captain say? Natalia?”
He pops them open, pausing momentarily in case you fight against him or make a different type of noise. But all he feels are your rapid exhales against his hand and the roll of your hips against him. He smiles down to where he’s pressed against you, watching you work yourself up little by little, but decides not to comment directly on that. He’ll let you have your fun - he’s not a complete ass. Plus, the feeling of your plump ass against his hardening cock is bliss written in fucking devilry.
“What would they say, hmm? I’m a hundred percent certain they would beg me for a turn.”
You moan loudly but quickly whimper in horror, eyes wide with worry that the team has finally overheard you. Loki wastes no more time, dipping his fingers into the tight constraints of your pants and your underwear to swipe an innocent finger across your folds. He’s immediately met with a growing pool of excitement that thanks him for opening your cunt apart. “Oh-ho! That’s actually exciting you? You think you’re lucky enough to keep quiet? Who would you let fuck you first? Hmm? Wilson? Barnes? Barnes hasn’t been with anyone for so long. He’d absolutely destroy you.”
There’s both ice and fire in your head and in the next moment, that combination is drowning your legs, your arms, your freaking toes. It almost burns through your skin, begging to escape such tight confines but its inability to do so is what’s also getting you off. Loki dips his finger deeper to collect more of your fluid and circles back up to quickly find your clit. He rubs expert circles, tiny but quick, and he has to shut his eyes from crying out himself as you involuntarily buck back against him. You’re a whimpering mess and the noises are shocking him with insane excitement. He too feels too hot and too cold at the same time. It’s the first time he’s seeing you like this and he couldn’t have imagined how ravishing you would actually look.
Now here you are, hair sticking to the light moisture of your forehead, absolutely drenched and dripping onto that poor lace Loki simply wants to bundle up and wrap around his hand as he strokes himself to completion later. He can feel your heartbeat in your clit and it’s killing him, turning him red inside and out and it takes all the willpower he has kept locked away for the last hundred years not to tug your clothing aside and fuck you rough.
“But that’s not enough, hmm? Who else?” He’s circling quicker, relishing in the muffled squelching noises bouncing off the kitchen walls. He knows you probably hear them too even if your ears must be pounding. He feels your lips try to part behind his palm. “Who else?”
You rut faster, not caring about anything else but getting off. It’s so incredibly hot - Loki’s voice is doing it perfectly well indeed - and you’ll hate yourself in the morning but fuck it all. You haven’t gotten off with a partner in so long and feeling someone else’s fingers instead of your own was turning your brain to jelly.
Then Loki presses his whole body down on top of you, effectively caging you underneath him and pressing your upper body against the cold granite. The coldness almost hurts your heated skin; it’s burning through your shirt. And Loki rubs fast, faster, faster and dips low to speak directly in your ear. “My brother?”
Now you try to wiggle free because what the fuck.
“No, I don’t think I would let him have a turn. You’re mine to annoy, mine to tease.” He takes the top of your ear gently between his incisors. “Mine to fuck.”
His hand muffles your quiet screams as you come on his waiting fingers. He dips them in and collects all you can give him, spreading it over your lips and mound, and finally lets you go. He wonders if you’ll march right out of here and report him, or pretend this never happened, he doesn’t know. But you’re still bent over the granite and breathing heavily. Slowly, ever so slowly, you use whatever strength you can muster up and turn around.
Loki takes the opportunity to take his wet fingers in his own mouth. He swirls his tongue around them, sucking and releasing them only to hold them straight and run his tongue along their length. He’s sucking his own fingers, hollowing his own cheeks around them like he would a cock, minus the deepthroating and gagging.
He laughs when he notices how black your eyes are. “Enjoy that, darling?”
Your chest heaves and it surprises you that you can even form a coherent sentence. “What the fuck?”
“Please tell me if I overstepped.”
The disbelief on your face must have worried him, because he pauses his antics and increases the distance between the two of you.
“I just wasn’t… expecting that.”
He hides it only slightly, but there’s genuine worry in his eyes. “If I overstepped -”
“It’s cool, uh, just go back to the show.”
He reaches out to take your hand but retracts it immediately. You give him the most awkward smile in history and haul ass to your bedroom. Loki doesn’t exactly know what to do so he rejoins the group, who are about the most oblivious people he’s ever met, and continues the show. They must have heard something… you two couldn’t have been that lucky.
~
It’s irrational, but Loki is the one who starts to shy away from you all week. Each glance, each ‘hello’ in the morning, each and every breath you can hear him take makes you want to pounce. It’s irrational, and sure you’ve thought about Loki this way before during some pretty desperate ruts of loneliness but oh my god, did you want to fuck him for real this time.
It’s pretty obvious he’s avoiding you because he believes he’s misstepped. And it’s not like you’ve been trying to avoid him too. You’ve asked Thor if he noticed Loki acting strangely, sat near him whenever you found yourselves eating lunch at the same time, and even cracked a joke in his direction during a briefing. Still, Loki smiles sheepishly and politely responds.
You’re even, irrationally, fucking angry that he’s so goddamn perfect. Gentle and kind with his attitude even after he rubbed your clit with such precision… like he was born to pleasure his partners until they saw black spots. It makes you angry that after all that talk, he shies away and expects your relationship to be awkward forever? What kind of guy - even if Loki isn’t a guy persay - does that? And you weren’t going to back down. Nope, not after knowing what his chest feels like pressed against your back, or how his long fingers feel spreading your cunt open, or how much heat his body radiated when he too was worked up.
It’s literally not fair.
But you’re lucky and you know that if you really doubled-down you could get him alone, easily. You allowed him his space.
The rest of the team is either in the indoor gym, out to lunch, or on the outside track when you decide enough is enough. Loki only ever spars with Thor and since Thor was getting lunch with Bruce downtown, Loki was free.
He’s in Tony’s lab (where Tony surprisingly isn’t) and only hears you come in when you shut the door behind you. Not that it makes any difference or creates a sense of privacy - the whole room has glass walls. He pauses typing instructions into the monitor and clears his throat, bowing his head like the fucking moron he was.
His grin spreads like it always does, from root to petal, and his eyes crinkle like he’s truly pleased to see you. “Ah, I was hoping to run into you today -”
“Were you? You sure about that?”
He blinks. “I beg your pardon?”
You almost want to copy his smile, extend your arms like you own the room, but you opt for smirking and tilting your hip outward slightly. “Beg then.”
It’s like the air is punched out of him. He wants to reel it back in because the lack of air leaves him defenseless. His shoulders are dropped like he’s leaning into them and his knees buckle. Your voice is positively doing the best things to his ego, to his fogged up brain, to his desire to have you. At that moment, he regrets ignoring you for a whole week. Because the sway of your hip, the pursed nature of your lips, even the glint in your eyes is igniting that craving he’s had for a while. “A God doesn’t actually - “
“A God this, a God doesn’t do that, shut the hell up, Loki,” you interrupt, crowding his space and pushing him by the chest into the wall. He hits it gently, arms staying by his hips and eyes locked on yours. “A God also doesn’t break his word or shy away from a challenge,”
“Refresh my memory.”
He’s matching your smirk now. He’s accepting the challenge and there’s this wild look on his face, like he’s ready to sink his teeth into your neck or his own hand.
“I vaguely remember you telling me not to drop you. So, what? You fuck me with your fingers and that’s it?”
“You’re testing my patience, darling.”
“Am I? You want to know how fucking thin my patience is right now?”
“I admit I’m curious.”
The audacity is what does it. Pushing against him so your leg slots in between his thighs, you place one hand near his neck and the other above his belt buckle. He hears the jingle and almost falls to his knees. Fighting with you is one thing, but fighting with happy endings? His mouth parts with a strangled whine as you palm his hardening cock through his pants, following the outline and studying his eyes as you do. He looks about ready to explode.
“See? I can be a tease as well,” you say, praying your voice sounds as sultry as you think it does. Loki lets his eyes drift closed for a moment, sinking in the overwhelming feeling of your hand palming so gently and yet, so hard at once. It’s a combination that’s making his mind even more foggy and he forgets how to breathe with restraint. “A week ago, I loved to tease you with my words. Let’s see if there’s an easier way…”
He opens both eyes, positively black, and almost groans when he sees you leaning in. “Darling?”
“Do you want me to stop?” You pause your movements, lips hovering his own.
“God, no.”
That’s the green light you need. You slam your lips against his and unbuckle his belt at the same time. It’s both sensual and the slightest bit sloppy, heads turning to fit the proper direction, strings of saliva connecting the two of you when you pull back for breath. You shove his pants just a little lower and stick your hand down his briefs, surprised that Loki’s wearing such casual clothing. He’s always dressed as if he’s attending some gala, but here he is so normal. At your will. “You like that? Being so exposed?”
He whines deep in throat and tries to retract it, but the second you wrap your hand around his stiff cock he doesn’t bother. His chest heaves upward and his mouth drops open, strangled groans escaping with every dignified tug of his swollen cock. You’re still speaking but your voice seems miles away to him. “Didn’t think I’d like being exposed. It’s really scary.”
It registers with him that you are indeed in a very public space. He looks over your shoulder to glance at the long hallways where anyone could walk past and see him, completely exposed and red and dripping, whining like an omega in heat because of a human he swore he would end up killing out of pure annoyance one day. “But look at you, hard and wanting and completely at my will.”
He’s startled into a laugh. “Your tongue is going to get you in trouble.”
“Oh, is it?” You take the chance to lick a swipe from his bottom lip to his top, pressing harder against him so the harsh rub of fabric from your jeans overstimulates him. He’s leaking from the tip, red and swollen with such a need to burst that you figure his balls must be in the same predicament. You feel all powerful with each tug, watching as Loki so desperately tries to hold himself up against the wall and resist the urge to grind against your leg. You almost wish he would. Flames are licking up his legs that cause him to sweat, and he’s bucking his hips into your hand with some primal desperation. “Tell me, Loki. Darling… you wanna come?”
The words spilling from your mouth are making him burst at the seams. His stomach clenches involuntarily as a response and he promises himself that he’s going to box this moment with your voice and the muscle of your thigh and the grip of your hand and keep it safely hidden until the next time he needs it. “You little minx.”
“Completely exposed. Absolutely dripping. Anyone can walk past and see you.” He throws his head back against the wall and whines from both his close orgasm and the smack to his skull. This leaves his throat exposed, and he huffs out a long breath when your lips connect to the free skin. You’re marking him, he feels, and it excites him to later parade that nice purple bruise for everyone to see. “Bet there’s cameras.”
He ruts now, hips matching the pace of your hand and eagerly chasing his release. “Please.”
“Please what? Use your words.” You bite down and suck, and Loki just about yells. His chest rises and falls rapidly and his hips are losing their perfected rhythm. He’s scared his scream is going to shatter the glass.
“Please teach me my lesson.”
Your smile grows slowly, teeth and all, and you slap one hand over his mouth and use some of his own accumulating slick at the tip of his cock to spread along his length. His eyes widen at the roughness but he finds himself wanting to thank you for covering his mouth. Your hand moves fast, twisting expertly and thumb sliding over his slit multiple types until he can’t handle it anymore. His knees do buckle but it’s your thigh pressed in between him that tells him to hold himself up. He shouts, long groans dragging out over the course of his release, all muffled from your sweaty palm keeping him quiet. His release shoots up his chest, powerful enough to even hit the skin near his collarbones, and all over your hand. You care enough not to throw him over to sensitivity, but work him long enough so he feels you throughout his orgasm.
Once he can feel his body again, tingles just now resigning and blurry vision correcting itself, he stands straight again. He vaguely feels you tuck him back into his pants and button him back up.
He flutters his eyes open and by the proud smile on your face, he can imagine what he looks like: fucked to bliss. You raise your hand to mouth and Loki sees his spent dripping alongside your palm and thumb. His jaw clenches and he swallows almost painfully when you lick yourself clean. He wouldn’t be opposed to having that pink tongue wrapped around his cock right about now.
You surprise him, though, by pushing him back against the wall and chuckling. “Lucky no one walked past, huh? Don’t you dare ignore me anymore.”
He sucks in a deep breath and blushes down at the floor. “Oh, darling. Never.”
~
“Well, would you look at that?”
The model fills in the thermometer-looking drawing with her red marker and the crowd cheers as the donations hit over five million. You roll your eyes at Tony and casually sip at your champagne. “A charity gala was completely pointless, Tony.”
“Hey, there are other charitable billionaires in the world. Doesn’t have to all come from my pocket,” Tony scoffs and cheers louder to excite the crowd. Everyone is doing their part and entertaining the guests. Steve’s buttering up the big donors and Bucky’s buttering up the wives. Thor’s getting to know the rich kids who were dragged to this event by their rich parents, and Clint’s snickering in the background each time one of those kid’s jokes flies over Thor’s head. And Loki’s just chilling at the bar, keeping a low profile as he should, but still doing the gentlemanly thing and trying to be a part of the team.
“Considering you’re one of the main reasons we’re raising money in the first place-”
“Hey, everyone uses Grand Central. Everyone was there. Don’t pin it all on me.”
“I need another drink.”
Walking to the bar seems like the most erotic thing Loki has ever caught you doing. He’s staring at you with this winning grin and it’s enough to make you weak in the knees. His suit is a dark green, tight around the thighs and biceps. His hair is loose and, dare you say, fluffed. The curls are looser than they usually are and they wave toward the same directions rather than mismatched.
He’s not the only one staring at you walking to the bar, however. Loki notices this, too. His grin turns into that famous smirk and you know he’s challenging you. Your little rendezvous the other day has only excited the both of you more: sexy looks whenever you crossed paths, heavy make-outs and petting in the corners of hallways, dialogue that would make even Thor blush. Now he’s challenging you to start the foreplay - entice him, make him jealous, let everyone know they can’t have you. You will have him tonight, you can feel it. You’re feeling lucky.
“Now, you’re the only assassin on the team that isn’t Russian.”
He seems younger than you, probably only by a year, and his eyes are a lovely milk chocolate brown that are kind. There’s, of course, that hint of want in his eyes that lets you know what his true intentions are. Blond hair perfectly styled, suit tailored as perfectly as his father’s probably, and a smile that promises nothing serious.
“Mm, don’t make any bets on that. We superheroes have tons of secrets hidden up our sleeves.”
“You’re also the only one I’ve seen beat a guy with nothing but a baseball bat.”
It’s true. You are rather… unconventional. You made a name for yourself with the younger crowd of social media. They thought you extreme but holy, completely fucking weird but good at her job. And if the other Avengers put up with you, then you were worthy enough to stan. Still, no one should be witness to your antics when you lose your gun. “God, did they get that on camera?”
The man chuckles and swishes around his drink. “Were they not supposed to?”
You smirk and cast a glance at Loki, who’s smiling around the rim of his glass. “Well, I don’t like being videotaped unless I approve beforehand.”
The man catches onto your innuendo. He blushes and smiles right back at you. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“The drinks are free. You can order me one.”
He waves the bartender down and he takes your order. In the minute you’re waiting for it, you’re half listening to what this man is saying and how Loki’s staring at you from across the bar. The champagne is placed in front of you and at the same time, Loki motions with his hand for you to get it over with. He doesn’t look jealous but rather annoyed with how slow this man is taking to get to his point.
“So, how come I don’t see you out and about as often as the others? Think I saw your friend Wanda in Vogue last month.”
“I tend to cause small mishaps everywhere I turn. It’s a skill and it’s dangerous but it hasn’t killed me yet.”
“Mishaps?”
There’s a playful glint in your eye but for a stranger like him, it looks rather alarming. “Mm, you really shouldn’t trust me with a gun.”
The man pauses and squints slightly as he scans your face. “Are you yanking my chain? They wouldn’t hire you as an Avenger if you were incapable of something so simple.”
Something. So. Simple. “I’m also horrible at conversing with anyone who I’m not paid to protect.”
The man’s mouth parts as if he wants to say something else, but he can feel when the conversation isn’t a good one. “Enjoy your drink.”
At least he’s polite about it.
Loki slides his way over to your side of the bar, a pep in his step and with the widest grin he’s presented all night. “You’re gonna end up in the headlines for an entirely different reason than you want to, darling.”
“Oh, but that was fun, wasn’t it?”
Loki scoffs but there’s mountains and mountains of sarcasm in his voice. “He was a perfectly good suitor. Tall, handsome, overlooked that intimidating glare you seem to always have.”
You fake a pout, “But he didn’t even stay long enough for me to tell him it was all a joke.”
“Is it, though? You’ve lost more guns in the middle of a firefight than I care to count.”
“You know, it makes me all giddy inside that you don’t actually count them.”
He downs his drink and looks around the room before he whispers near your ear. “Are you doing anything later?”
It’s rather fun to keep this a secret from the whole team. They’re none the wiser and it always ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach whenever Loki teases you right in their presence. Any day now they can turn their heads at the right moment, strain their ears to catch the talk between you two, or walk in during another pleasurable rendezvous. But they haven’t yet, and Loki thinks he’d find it quite erotic to take you in such a public area when the time for them to know is right.
“Might go to bed early. Don’t know. Why? Want me to leave my door unlocked?”
“Tempting me, are you?”
You don’t finish your new glass and instead wink at him before leaving the gala altogether.
~
“Took you long enough.”
Loki’s already shedding his jacket the moment he passes through the bedroom door. “I’ll never keep you waiting again.”
It sounds like a promise because of his breathy tone and it almost makes you blush by how excited he looks. “You sure you wanna go through with all this?”
“I’m certainly not going to object.”
You give him a pointed look, “Loki.”
He takes your hands in his and caresses your knuckles. “I won’t ‘drop’ you after this. I don’t think it’d be possible for me to.”
“Too tempting for you?”
“And other things. You make me want to pull my own hair out.”
Regardless of such a gentle conversation, you know it certain that the sex isn’t going to be vanilla. “Something every lady wants to hear.”
He grins at that and pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looks at you for a long moment before leaning in ever so slightly and breathing against your lips. “Let me touch you.”
“You can do a hell of a lot more than that. Don’t think me fragile.”
He smells like whiskey and cinnamon all at once. “Never, darling.”
His kisses always start off so benign, like he’s scared of hurting you or scared of building the moment up too quickly. His lips slide of yours with intent, however, and he uses his whole body to tell you of it. His hands come up to rest on your cheeks, thumbs sweeping across your soft skin, and then they rise to the first strands of hair he’s lucky enough to touch. The moment they do though, he presses his lips even harder and it’s basically a plea to taste even more of what you have to offer. You’re both breathing through your nose and trying to catch little inhales here and there whenever your lips slightly detach. He’s taking his sweet time but you know he’s only mapping out the things he’s going to do to you.
His fingers lace through all the way to the back of your neck and finally, finally, he cracks. He pulls just the slightest bit harder but it’s enough to tug your head backwards and expose your willing neck to him. A puff of air escapes your lungs but it quickly turns into a low groan when his lips reattach themselves to the sensitive skin just below your ear. He sucks and bites, body pressing you even further backward until you hit the wall. His hips are slotted against yours and just like how you restricted his access, he places his right leg in between you. With him being taller, his thigh presses against your mound deliciously. You had worn a simple cocktail dress for the gala, not really wanting to go all out for something so mundane, but it’s working wonders by allowing such easy access for Loki’s clothed thigh. He trails kisses down your throat and to your collarbones, tongue poking out every so often to trace the veins that aren’t visible to you - but to Loki. He can sense your blood rushing through your veins, he knows enough about anatomy to know where they’re located, and he follows them like a tempting path. He’s there at your neck, on your sternum, above your breasts, and then back up to your waiting lips to swallow all of your low whines.
“I want to do something,” you croak, slightly embarrassed by how gone you already sound.
“Anything.”
You smile at how fucked out he already sounds as well. It takes all of your self-control not to rub it in his face that you, a Midgardian with a god-like skill, are making him wither under your touch.
“Go sit over there.”
Loki detaches from your lips, a lovely string of spit refusing to follow his lead. “Sit… over there?”
There’s a long couch pushed up against your wall that faces your bed. There’s a small coffee table in front of it and it looks rather comfortable for a day spent reading. But now you’re imagining Loki on that very couch, thighs spread wide and mouth parted while he has no other choice but to watch you enjoy yourself. “What? You think our little game is over?”
“I would quite like to know how I’m supposed to win.”
“Men. Always wanting to race to the finish line.”
“Don’t compare me to anyone else. As long as I can see you as you are, absolutely gorgeous, I’ll play whatever game you want.”
Locking your door as quickly as you could, you’re already stripping from the dress. Loki follows your movements with his hungry eyes but doesn’t make a move to touch. He’s waiting for instructions. A sharp tilt of your head reminds him of what they are.
The moment you’re bare, it’s heaven. The cotton of your sheets greet you, rubbing along your sensitive skin like the caress of a hand you’ve been begging for. Loki’s hands were rough, large, with slender fingers that would definitely get the job done. He’d make sure to touch every single inch of skin available to him, he’d touch every single goosebump, and once he had accomplished that first part, his fingers would continue the torture. But would it be torture? Or undeniable pleasurable sensations that are sure to get you screaming until your lungs felt as though they were punctured through? You’ve felt them once before but never inside of you. Only teasing.
Loki sheds his top layers and unbuckles his belt. He sits far enough away that you can’t really feel his presence, but close enough that you know you’re being watched.
“Touch yourself, pet. Tell me what you want.”
You already know the slope of your collarbones, the hardness of your nipples when they meet the chilled air, the dip of your hips and the shaven mound of your pubis. There’s no time to appreciate the simple things - no - your fingers immediately go to that sweet little nub in between your shaking legs. You follow his instructions promptly, dipping your fingers further in only to swipe more of your excitement higher. It does the trick and you find that you're practically dripping. There’s stickiness attached to your inner thighs, the strings of clear arousal forming a tiny bridge that connects skin to skin, wet and becoming dry all at once. Whimpering, you spread your arousal all along your inner lips and get to work.
The very fact that Loki is inches away, spread out the same way you are and gaining his pleasure from yours is distractedly erotic, and it hypes the sensations even more. Your breath hitches when he leans his head back and releases a low moan, wet lips parting and bottom lip (dare you say) shaking. His cock is throbbing, rock hard in his grasp, and each time your finger swipes at your special spot his thighs clench involuntarily. “I want… fuck, I want you to fuck me.”
He chuckles deeply and his tongue is settled on his bottom lip. “You may make me want to throw you to the nearest wolves, but seeing you spread out and needy is better than any other fantasy. Dripping, willing, absolutely begging for someone to fill you and satisfy that carnal desire God and Midgardian have alike.”
He lifts his head and meets your gaze. His eyes seem darker and there’s a thin sheet of sweat starting to appear on his forehead. His words are eating you alive. You know Loki’s a smooth talker, what with that damn silver tongue you’ve read about, but to hear it in action is overwhelming. Your fingers are just now creating a steady pace. The pleasure shoots through your clit and to the coil unraveling in your stomach, twisting and swirling with streaks of brilliant bliss that soon finds its way to your chest. Unable to contain your noises, they inch their way through your heaving chest to your dry throat and sound off in your once quiet room.
Your head rolls to the side and your heated cheek meets the cotton of your pillow. It’s almost too much. The cotton should be a welcome feeling, but it’s just making you burn faster. Your mind races, and soon the cotton is turning into the hands of a certain God you’ve come to despise and crave. It seems almost rude to imagine his pink lips trailing down your neck, bruising and sucking as he pleased, down to the valley of your breasts and wrapping around your sensitive nipples when he’s literally right there. His hand is moving faster and there’s a hint of restraint in his voice, almost like he’s covering up his own noises. He’s already leaking, red at the tip and hand finding all his special places. His chest heaves brilliantly as he tugs himself, heavy and hot, noises breather.
You aren’t much for biting, but God, did you want this God to do just that again. His hands would find a new home in your hair and they would tug, tug, pull, and fuck it if he pulled some strands loose because you’ll feel him clenching his fist around the base of your neck and pulling you up to meet him mid-thrust.
His thrusts would be…
“Fuck,” you choke and rub your clit faster. Still, you try not to apply so much pressure. If you could do this all night, you would, but the knowledge that Loki will be the one to do this in just a few minutes after you find yourself tired of the game... Your mind wanders to the image of his hand curling in your hair and pulling as he thrust into you fast and hard - would he go fast and hard? - of course he would; he’d want to fuck the disobedience out of you, the frustration he’s dealt with these past weeks. Being paired together for missions was a bad idea from the start and now you’re imagining him fucking you? Now he’s literally sitting in front of you watching as you fuck yourself?
God, if he was over you and fucking you his long hair would whip your cheeks as he pressed down. You’d be wrapped in his arms and he’d make sure your legs were secured around his waist as he lifted you and fucked you fierce -
“You’re awfully quiet for someone with such an active mind,” Loki pants and his hand slides up his shaft to pinch his red tip. He groans softly, “Tell me what you’re thinking, pet.”
The moan you let out is almost embarrassing, a whine more like, and your fingers dance through your juices nastily. Quick rolls of your sensitive clit, the sound of your arousal sticking to your fingers and thighs, hair tugging beneath your shoulders as you lifted your lower half to chase the pace. So much pleasure building, like fireworks still in your hand that you forgot to throw, gentle and jaw dropping explosions all at once-
“Loki.”
“Fuck, yes, say my name darling.”
Just as you were an expert of your own body, he was for his. He’s running his large hand, those slender fingers, over himself so beautifully. His head is tilting back again, and he disregards possible embarrassment as he moans low and long, pace increasing each time his cock spurts another small droplet of pre-come. His rhythm stutters when he hears your sharp inhale.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you since the first time you scolded me.”
He’s lost most of his resolve now, because instead of a verbal response he’s simply nodding quickly. It’s true. He had chewed you out in front of the whole team because you had managed to get kidnapped by the Afghan prince you were supposed to be pretending to court. Spending three days trying to escape was nothing, mere childsplay, but Loki had busted his ass those three days simply trying to communicate with you. And when you rounded the corner, skipping no less, with a simple response of “Hey! Now it’s a party!”, he had almost murdered you.
He looked so angry, so annoyed, so finished with the Avengers in general for not telling him about your little antics and behavior. So he yelled at you in front of everyone, veins bulging from his neck and finger pointed in your face that it took all your self-control not to make a dirty joke in the middle of it. Steve knew this of course, because he stood behind Loki with his lips spread so thin and mimicking with his hand near his throat for you to cut it out.
“Yeah? Gods, you should see yourself. Spread so perfectly, practically begging me to fuck you.”
“Shit,” you pant, free hand leaving the sheets to clutch at your left breast. His words hit you like a wave and you swear you can feel the pebbles on your skin and salt in your mouth. “Stop talking like that or I’ll come.”
“Why should I stop?” He swears quietly under his breath, thumb passing along his slit to collect more slick. “You said you want to come. I can make you come. I can have you withering beneath me, uncontrollable, crying from such - ah - from such ecstasy.”
You rub your clit faster, whines turning into near cries as his words hit you. Your ears hear him, your brain digests the meaning, and your body begs to be full of his cock. He has your thighs shaking. “You want that?”
He can tell you’re fighting it and it’s making him harder, if that’s possible. He can feel the coil at the base of his spine, pinching him nicely and swelling his balls with the release he so desperately wants to fill you with. The pleasure is growing inside of him, chest burning hot and prickly with the coil of arousal. He tears his gaze away from your body to lock eyes with you, and it’s deadly. “So beautiful. So fucking perfect.”
His words are literally killing you. There’s a fire tracing up higher, starting at the base of your fingertips and up your arms, tightening its grip around your clenched throat. It’s so good and bad at the same time. And again, you’re reminded that you’re literally on display, hot and wet for the one man who makes you feel like burning this whole compound down. “Loki, fuck, please.”
“Please what?” Loki groans, hopeful about your words. He wants to get an invitation, he wants inside you, he wants to be with you. It’s like a voice is teasing him, telling him it’s not just erotic desire that he’s feeling, but he pushes it down and focuses back to your withering body. Your hips are lifting themselves up now and your thighs are threatening to shut violently. “You want me to fuck you?”
A single tear escapes and quickly seeps into your ear. It tickles, but it’s faint compared to the burning heat between your legs. “Just…”
“Begging me, pet? Gods, keep doing that. Where do you want me?”
You’re reluctant to tear your hand away from yourself, but you have to see him. Lifting yourself on your elbows, you watch as he strokes his length at the same pace you had. His hair looks unruly, like he’s been running his hands through it. Maybe he’s been pulling it.
That simple thought is enough to cause you to spread your thighs even further, knees practically touching the mattress. “Come here.”
Loki doesn’t care if you took him by the neck and insulted his whole being right now. Same as you, he follows your instructions like it's second nature. He’s on you in a second, hand never leaving his cock as he keeps stroking himself to near completion. “What do you want? Tell me, darling. Tell - ah, oh - please.”
His face contorts in pleasure as he strokes the right area. You watch him, cheeks hot with a craving to put him in your mouth, in your hands, deep inside your aching heat that you’ll be able to feel him in your stomach, bottoming out and grinding against your clit with ease. “Make me yours.”
He hovers over you, one arm supporting his weight on the mattress as he dips down to capture your lips in another kiss. It’s rough and desperate and both your breathy moans are intermingling in begging pleas of release.
You were right: his hair does tickle your neck.
“Look at you. Fuck.” He aches almost painfully, climax close he can fucking taste it but he refuses to let it occur. It’s the way your mouth drops open when his hands reach below to cup your stomach, your hips, and then your bare ass that makes him inwardly praise every God he knows exists. He watches your jaw tense, eyes shut no matter how hard you try keeping them open, and neck presented like a lovely snack to his carnal cravings. He pushes your legs up higher and hooks them over his shoulders. But he doesn’t fuck you just yet, no, he lowers himself down and attaches his lips to the one place you need devoured immediately. His tongue sweeps slowly across your folds and to your clit, circling in tight figure eights and flattening against it when your whines turn extreme.
“Loki, fuck, fuck!” Your hands grip the top of his head harshly and he inhales through his nose. But he continues and presses in deeper, teeth grazing on accident and causing your hips to thrust upward and away. He has your thighs gripped tightly in his hands. Everytime your hands pull his hair he groans low and the vibration sends a prickle of pleasure throughout your thighs that they jiggle.
Loki’s enjoying this, you can tell, because he’s moaning in between your thighs and rutting against the mattress slowly. You don’t remember when he took off his pants but it’s quite a treat to see his round ass rise and fall with determined thrusts.
Loki slips one finger into your tight opening and it surprises you. His fingers are unbelievably long, not as thick, but he’s expert enough to know how to utilize such an asset. He pumps it gently and continues his smooth glides over your sensitive bud, completely thriving with each shout you give.
You’re sweet, a little salty, and so fucking perfect that Loki moans into your mound and presses in two fingers this time. He curls them and rubs against that spot that has you practically flying upward. It’s a stuttering series of ah-ah-aH’s and Loki ends up smiling against you the louder you get. If there wasn’t a party happening downstairs he knows the whole team would be piling outside your door to hear.
You’re coming with a loud scream, practically animalistic, and your knees knock against his head as they struggle to close. Loki’s mouth drops open as well, a long groan released as he continues to lap at you. The feeling has you whimpering but the sight is what gets you. He raises himself, chin shiny and lips glistening, and he gives you that fucking smile he gives whenever he’s won an argument. Except this time, he’s just made you come with the most pathetic noise you’ve ever made. You tug him close and kiss him deep, tasting yourself and openly inviting it.
“As much as I want to look at your face again when you come over my cock, it’s not in the cards.”
Before you can respond, Loki flips you over and traps you underneath him. He presses his cock into your lower back and ruts gently as he places small kisses down your neck. He pushes your hair to the side and trails more kisses down your spine.
“Alien or not, it makes sense you would enjoy this position.”
He grips your hips and lifts you to place a pillow underneath and nudges your legs apart. Your breath hitches when you feel him against your drenched cunt. He leans down, chest hot against your back, and presses a deep kiss to your cheek. “Okay?”
He’s about to fuck you raw and that still has you flushing with shyness. “Yeah,” you breathe, raising your hips as an invitation. He wastes no more time and finally pushes into you. Your breath stretches as he pushes in farther.
Pressure builds in him, pushing lovely sounds out of him that have you already clenching down around him. He hisses and thrusts deeper, allowing you to adjust to his full girth and length.
You literally feel all your muscles relax to make way for him. You feel your breath level to match his. You feel every teasing inch of him and your heart is pounding in your ears by how fucking amazing he already feels. A whimper pours from your mouth when he finally bottoms out and his hands are gripping your hips so hard you’re sure there are bruises forming. “Loki.”
He chuckles, low and deep, and takes that as signal enough. Pulling back just an inch already has your mouth parting in a silent scream. You can feel all of him, every vein and ridge, and it’s fucking delightful. He pulls out until only the cockhead is snug, and thrusts back in until his hips hit your ass. Your pants are plenty in telling him that you’re ready for him to move quicker.
Both your moans are so high, short, and repeated that the desire is just building. He’s sliding so easily, your cunt absolutely drenching his cock and clenching around him like the most heavenly vice. The intrusion of his cock sliding in and out, in and out faster and rougher, makes your toes curl and your vision hazy.
His arms move. One comes to wrap all the way around your waist while the other grips from underneath and to your neck. He isn’t choking you, his hand nearer your collarbones than anything else, but it provides a nice leverage for him to lean over further and drive his hips deeper. He plants almost slobbery kisses to your shoulders.
“This what you wanted all these weeks?” he pants, hips drilling into your pussy at such a rapid and delicious rate that he has your back arching almost painfully. You can only gasp and moan as a response, drool beginning to pool on the pillow closest to you. It’s impossible to swallow it, let alone speak through it, and you shut your eyes as another loud moan escapes your bruised lips.
“Answer me, darling,” Loki tries again, pausing his thrusts to change his hand positions again. This time he hooks his right arm underneath your waist and the other slowly pulls upward where it leaves invisible lightning strikes across each of your vertebrae. His fingers find the base of your neck and then the thickness of your hair, and he tugs you up so your back is now one with his chest. He settles you on your knees and helps you grip onto the headboard. The quick movement causes black spots to appear in your vision for only a second because then he’s pounding away again and pulling your head back by your hair to lay on his shoulder.
“Yes!” you scream, thighs vibrating from lack of strength but you’re determined to feel Loki at this wonderful angle. He’s holding you up so carefully but he’s fucking you with such a rawness that’s you’ll definitely feel this tomorrow. Throwing your head back, Loki uses this opportunity to plant a slick, hot kiss on your neck and to unleash your hips from his hold to cup your breasts instead.
“Yes, you like getting fucked by your God?”
That makes you roll your eyes but then he has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head when his thrusts pick up and begin slamming into the one place you need him to be. Fire is licking its way up your toes, to your thighs, to the middle of your chest and building such a tight coil that you’re afraid it might actually burst red and violently over your white sheets.
“We can do this all night. I have so many other things I want to do to you, and you me. You like having cock in your mouth?”
The desperation in Loki’s deep voice milks a newfound desire within you. It has you uncontrollably clenching around his thick cock and giving him his answer. “I like having cock in my mouth. But I would certainly love to see you on your knees with mine down your eager throat.”
His words are screaming in your ears. You brace your hands against the headboard and lean forward so you’re no longer pressed up against his hot chest. This way he can ram into you easily. His hand remains twisted in your hair and the tugs he’s giving are causing you to leak around his cock, wetter than you’ve ever been, hot and cold with such a need for release.
After he says it, you imagine it. You on your knees looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes, perhaps in the middle of the common room where anyone can walk in, sucking down the delicious curve of his cock with him dripping down your throat. Yeah, that has you moaning uncontrollably now.
“Please,” you pant, meeting his thrusts halfway. Loki’s leaning over you again, his cock pulsing with the need to fill you up and lick you clean again. His cheeks are red and his chest is heaving delightfully as he comes near his end as well.
“Please, what? Use your words.” He’s throwing your own words back at you, teasing you in the most unnecessary moment, because god, did you need to come. He dips his fingers into your parted mouth and you immediately suck them deep, swirling your eager tongue around his lean fingers, and you hear the nasty pop when he removes them. He plants his index and middle fingers back in between your thighs and works your nub to push you closer to edge.
It’s too much. “Oh, shit,” you whine, voice thinning. It’s like there’s a heavy bulge in the middle of your throat begging to be popped, creating such a soreness that the only cure is to yell in delight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
A needy thrum of desperation pouring into your veins is enough to snap you from your hazy state. “Loki, please. I want to come. Make me come, please.”
His fingers work faster, pinching your nub between both fingers and it sends you howling pornographically. You’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. Loki’s mounting you, claiming you as his, fucking you with such primal desire that it takes everything not to collapse from the sheer pressure of it all.
“Fucking brilliant, darling,” Loki groans, thrusting deeper and rolling his hips against your plump ass in an effort to reach his climax. He’s watching the way you’re practically shivering from the aftershocks, flushed with sweat, cunt squeezing the ever loving devil from him. A few more deep thrusts is all it takes for him to shake with a pleasure he hasn’t experienced in nearly two hundred years. The feeling of your velvet warmth enveloping him to the point it almost squeezes painfully, your spent dripping around his cock and down your shaking thighs; it makes him shut his eyes tightly as his jaw drops and he fails to catch the low shout that escapes. He watches the space where the two of you are connected as he continues filling you to the brim. His own come is now dripping from the sides and onto his softening cock.
He pushes in a couple more times, soft and deep, just enough to extend his climax and massage you. He drags out your name once he finally reaches his end and he removes himself carefully. Before toppling onto the sheets, he tugs you over and onto your back to roll with him.
Both your chests heave, sweat glistening on every inch of available skin, and there’s white spots plaguing your vision each time you shake your head. There are strands of hair stuck to Loki’s cheeks and forehead and he looks so blissfully fucked out that you’re proud of yourself for not jumping his bones earlier. The build-up was a strung out foreplay, but the end result proved to be entirely worth it.
“Was that punishment enough?”
Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, “Seriously? You’re still on that?”
“Oh, darling,” Loki grunts low as he rolls onto his side and tugs you into his chest. “Everytime you make a blunder, which is every day, expect to be punished accordingly.”
If only you’re lucky enough to do what you do best.
