#Loki really do be sleeping around

[traveler-at-heart]

Sister, wife?

Summary: The team mistakes you for Natasha's sister when you first meet.

Request by @lynattyx

Loki again.

Thor seemed more annoyed than anyone else, but that was only logical. He had spent centuries putting up with his brother.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. Siblings can be a pain” Natasha tried to comfort him, while he looked ready to release a storm over Loki outsmarting him and escaping.

“Speaking from experience, Red?” Stark asked with a curious stare.

“Got a sister” Natasha shrugged her shoulders, looking out the window of the Quinjet as if she hadn’t said anything interesting.

“Really? What’s her name?” Steve said, intrigued.

“I won’t tell you, because if I say it three times you’ll summon her. That’s a reference from…”

“Yeah, I got it” Steve nodded. “I didn’t really like that Beetlejuice”

“That’s because you hate fun” Tony said, stepping forward. “Alright, we have a signal. Anyone up for a cigar? Loki’s close to Cuba”

—

“Lay low. That’s pretty much all you can do now” Maria said with a somber tone over the comms.

Loki had gone a little too far this time, almost getting half of Havana blown up.

Needless to say, the US wasn’t happy with the diplomatic mess the Avengers had created. Maybe that was Loki’s plan all along; make it impossible for them to go after him with the American government on their backs.

Well, he got what he wished for.

“I don’t suppose we can go to the Compound, then” Tony mumbled. “Barton, Red? Any ideas?”

“Coordinates are set. We’ll be there in a few hours. Try to get some sleep. All of you”

No one was in the mood to ask questions. If Natasha said it was a safe place, then they’d take her word for it and be done with the matter.

“You sure about this?” Clint said, looking at her from the copilot seat.

“Yeah. She’ll just give me a hard time for not telling her in advance. You know how she likes to have everything extra clean when there are guests”

“How did you manage to score such a gal?” he joked and Natasha glared at him.

“Hey, I’m a catch. My mac and cheese is delicious”

“Whatever you say, Tasha”

—

The Quinjet landed, and the only way you could tell was by the tree branches moving with a sudden gust of wind.

“Hey” Natasha said with a coy smile, going up the steps as the rest of the team got off the jet, looking around curiously.

“Welcome home” you pulled her into a hug. “Should have told me they were coming, and I could have cleaned up a bit”

“I missed you too” she joked against your ear, and as she was about to lean and kiss you, Tony interrupted the moment.

“Hey, Romanoff and Romanoff”

“You must be Tony. I’ve heard a lot about you”

“Have you? Because Natasha here didn’t tell us much about you”

“She was probably worried about you running your mouth” you joked, making him smirk.

“You have heard about me”

As Steve walked in, Natasha waited for Clint to show him something she wanted to fix in the garage.

The house was big and in the middle of a little wooded area.

“You’re gonna have to share rooms. And someone will sleep on the couch” you warned them.

“Not it” Tony said, as you pulled out a pillow and a blanket from the closet.

“I’ll take the couch” Steve offered, which of course he did. “Thank you…”

“Y/N” you nodded, waiting for Tony to follow you.

“Barton? Thor?” he looked around.

“Oh, Clint’s probably scolding Natasha because she didn’t fix the ceiling like he told her to” you laughed. “Thor flew away like thirty seconds after landing. And burned part of my lawn in the process”

“So sorry about that. It’s quite the thing to hang out with these brutes. So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a Psychiatrist” you answered, opening the door to the guest room.

“Get to see Natasha a lot?”

“Not as much as I’d like”

“Come by the Compound anytime you like. I’ll send you a pass or shall I just say your name three times?”

“What?” you tilted your head in confusion.

“Nothing. Thanks for letting us crash” he rubbed his neck.

“Sure. Get some rest”

You ran into Clint as he went upstairs, knowing his way around the house.

“She’s outside”

“Is she… is she ok?” you said, sighing. It was one thing to see it in the news, and another one to know she was out there risking her life against literal Gods and aliens.

“Just tired” he assured you. “Seeing you will help. Have a good night”

“You too. Sorry to say you’re sharing a room with Tony”

“Ah, jeez” he groaned, making you laugh.

Steve was lying in the couch, restless. He waved at you shyly as you walked out, knowing Natasha was waiting in the porch.

Honestly? They were a nice bunch.

“Hey” you said, stepping out.

“Hi, detka”

“You ok?” you said, leaning your chin against her shoulder, with your arms around her waist.

“Just tired”

“Funny, that’s exactly what Clint said”

Natasha chuckled at that, squeezing your hands.

“He knows me”

“I know you better”

“Do you, now?” she turned around, quirking up an eyebrow and smiling at you. “So, what do you think I want right now?”

“Cuddles with your wife and then tomorrow morning I think you’ll be in the mood for blueberry pancakes and hot cocoa”

“Damn, you do know me well” she laughed, kissing your temple. “Come on, let’s go to bed”

—

You were up next morning, and unsurprisingly, Steve had already been out and running a good ten miles.

“The rest?” he said after greeting you.

“Clint got up early to fix what Natasha broke trying to fix the other thing that broke, God bless his soul. Tony’s asleep and so is Nat”

“Really? Even Romanoff? She’s up at break of dawn”

“Nah, not when she’s home. Now clean yourself up, breakfast is almost done”

“Yes, Ma’am”

Natasha was the first one down, as your room had a private bathroom. By the sounds from upstairs, you suspected the boys were arguing over who go to use the other restroom first.

“Hear that sound? Children. Ready for all that?” Natasha said.

“Yeah, but ours will be cute. And we’ll make Clint build another bathroom” you said, getting a pancake out of the pan.

“You’re so smart, that’s why I love you”

“Only that?” you said, laughing as you felt her hands go around your waist.

“Among other things”

You turned around to protest, but her lips stopped you from saying anything.

“I did miss this” she said, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. You moaned against her mouth, forgetting there were more people in the house until you heard Tony slam the door to the bathroom. Natasha went to get some coffee, and you wished she’d kept kissing you.

But the teasing would be endless if they caught you in the middle of it.

“Bathroom's all yours, Cap! Morning, Romanoffs”

“Morning, Tony” you said. “Help yourself to some pancakes and coffee”

“Delicious, thank you”

Steve came down a few minutes later, at the same time Clint walked in, announcing that he had fixed the thing.

“You’re a hero” you said, grateful. “Don’t worry, darling, you’ll get it right next time” you added as Natasha pouted.

“Mean”

“It comes with the territory, doesn’t it?” Tony said. “Including all the hair pulling and slapping and fighting for bras”

“Ah, what?” you said, confused.

“Hey, don’t speak to my wife that way, asshole” Natasha slapped the back of his head, making him choke on his coffee.

“Did you just say wife?” he turned to look between the two of you.

“Yes, Y/N is my wife. Who did you think she was?”

“The maid?” you joked.

“The sister!” Tony looked at Steve for backup.

“Well, to be fair… yeah”

“My sister’s name is Yelena” Natasha said, massaging her temples. “Y/N and I have been married for almost two years now. And I didn’t want you to know because you’ll be insufferable about it”

“Babe, they’ve been good so far” you chuckled, squeezing her hand.

“We can behave, honey boo” Tony said.

“Ok, yeah. I get it now” you rolled your eyes.

“Either way, you’re coming to our party” Tony said, poruing himself more coffee.

“When is it?”

“Whenever we get our hands on that Asgardian bastard”

“Language” you said at the same time as Steve.

“This is gonna be fun” Tony laughed, looking at you over his cup of coffee. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Romanoff”

[annicht]

kitten dad | Kuroo Tetsuro

or when your persian princess get pregnant by the black tomcat of the hot neighbor

-> post timeskip Kuroo Tetsuro X fem! reader | strangers to lovers

-> wordcount: 7.5k

-> tags: soft nsfw close to the end, sloooow burn, mutual pinning, post timeskip

@ anni says: I had to take this out of my head. already thinking about part two. let me know if it's too much bc I found it very dragged, idk. hope you enjoy

Marching torwards your neighbor door, you question yourself how is that even possible.

Your cat, Lola, a white persian, lies lazily on the animal carrier, and you huff annoyed, looking at her.

“I thought you hated other cats, you little troublemaker” — you mumble to the cat like she can understand you. And for her lazy grumbling, you know she can.

You knock on the white door three times. It’s late enough for the guy already be at home from work, but not late enough for him to be sleeping, you think in your head, looking at the 20:37 appearing at your watch. He’s a corporate worker like yourself, you saw him many times in the elevator with his suit and tie and his badge—

You were dry cut mid thought by the door opening, and the delicious scent of musky soap invading your senses.

Kuroo is standing, puzzled, wearing grey sweatpants and a black tank top, slightly wet hair, tilting his head. The girl next door, he thinks to himself.

He had seen you around countless times on the common areas, in the elevator, in the pool in a skimpy bikini, even at the gym. But what could you possibly be doing on his door?

You look at him, allowing your eyes to fall in his figure for miliseconds, enough to take notice of his strong biceps on show. Scrumptious. Then you focus back on his face.

“Hi, neighbor. Your cat just impregnated my kitty.”

He just looks at you for a couple seconds, his eyes slightly widening as the words slowly sunk on his brain.

“Excuse me?” — He asked, blinking. He’s either really tired or you are saying the most unlikely thing ever, and he didn’t know what is worse.

You squint, still a little annoyed, but slowly getting amused.

"Sorry the suddenness... you're the owner of that black short-haired cat, aren't you?"

You ask, and as if on cue, the little fella appeared strutting and mumbling a grumble behind Kuroo's legs, apparently curious of who's in the door

Kuroo looks down at the cat and then back at you, his eyes widening a bit as realization sank in.

“Ah— yes…” He says slowly, his eyebrows knitting in a frown. “This is Loki, yeah”.

He looked down at the cat again, who is now sitting and looking up at you with his big, yellow eyes, as if he knew exactly what you were about to say.

Kuroo crouched down to scratch behind Loki’s ears, his lips quirking into an amused grin.

“Looks like someone had a productive week,” he said dryly, casting a glance back up at you.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Productive? That’s one way to put it. My vet bill is going to be very productive, thanks to him.”

Kuroo straightened up, the movement drawing your eyes to the way his tank top stretched across his chest. You swallowed quickly and forced your gaze to his face— a smirking face, of course.

“Alright, I guess I owe you an apology?” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Though, to be fair, it takes two to tango. Maybe your girl couldn’t resist Loki’s charm.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his playful boldness. “Excuse me? My Lola is a lady of standards.”

“Clearly,” Kuroo said with a teasing edge, his smirk deepening. “I mean, look at Loki—absolute catch.”

You tried not to laugh, but a small snort escaped, and you covered it with a cough. “Okay, fine. Maybe they’re both to blame. But seriously, I thought she hated other cats. I didn’t even know they interacted.”

“Cats are sneaky like that,” he replied, shrugging, his tone light but his gaze lingering on you for just a second too long. You felt a strange warmth creep up your neck and mentally cursed him for being so... distracting.

“Well,” you started, clearing your throat and glancing down at Lola, who was now staring at Loki with her usual haughty expression, “Anyways. Just wanted to let you know that. And to ask if you know anyone who might want some… persian mixed kittens? I figure that the least you could do is help me find a home for them after they born”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re already putting me to work, huh? I didn’t realize Loki’s charm would come with responsibilities.”

You shot him a flat look, though the corners of your lips twitched. “You do realize this is partially your fault, right? Or are you just going to let me deal with a whole litter of kittens by myself?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fair enough. Consider me on kitten duty.” His smirk softened into something a bit more sincere. “I’ll help however I can. They are Loki’s kids, after all.”

Something about the way he said it, the playful yet genuine tone, made your resolve to stay annoyed falter. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Good,” you said, a little less stern this time. “You can start by helping me figure out where to set up for them. I don’t have much space in my apartment.”

Kuroo’s grin returned in full force. “So what I’m hearing is... you’re inviting me over?”

Your eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by his boldness, but you recovered quickly, giving him a pointed look, raising your eyebrows smugly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, neighbor. This is strictly business.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm, and you hated how much you liked it. “Strictly business, got it.”

Loki chose that moment to rub up against Kuroo’s leg, his tail swishing as he let out a satisfied purr. Lola, still sitting primly in her carrier, let out an indignant grumble in response.

“Seems like they’ve got a complicated relationship,” Kuroo remarked, glancing down at the cats. “Enemies? Lovers? Frenemies?”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Let’s just call them… complicated.”

“Works for me,” he said with a wink, straightening up. “Complicated relationships are kind of my specialty.”

Before you could respond—because what could you say to that without your brain short-circuiting?—Kuroo kept going: “I’ll check around to see if anyone’s interested in adopting some kittens,” he added casually. “Can I have your phone number? You know… to discuss kitten details?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, catching the glint of mischief in his tone. You said back with a mocking hint of disbelief. “Uh-huh. Kitten details. Sure.”

Kuroo raised his hands in mock innocence, the smirk still playing on his lips. “Strictly business, remember?”

You rolled your eyes but relented, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “Fine. Give me your phone.”

He handed it over without hesitation, and you quickly typed in your number, labeling yourself as Kitten Lady. When you handed it back, Kuroo glanced at the screen and let out a laugh.

“Kitten Lady? That’s what we’re going with?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Fits the situation, doesn’t it? Unless you’d prefer something more creative, like Annoyed Neighbor Who’s Stuck With Your Cat’s Consequences.”

“I think Kitten Lady has a nicer ring to it,” he said, his grin widening.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the way his playful energy was starting to chip away at your annoyance. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll be hearing from you soon, Kitten Dad.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at the nickname but didn’t argue. “Kitten Dad, huh? I’ll take it. Has a nice familial touch to it.”

You sighed, stepping back toward your door with Lola in tow. “Goodnight, Neighbor,”

“Goodnight, Kitten Lady,” he replied smoothly, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you retreat.

As you reached your door, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, Loki in his arms, one hand casually rubbing behind Loki’s ears, his eyes locked on you with an unreadable expression.

You quickly looked away, fumbling with your keys and stepping into your apartment, shutting the door behind you. Leaning against it, you let out a slow breath, placing Lola’s carrier on the floor and opening the little grid door.

Lola meowed lazily, peeking out of the carrier as if she were judging you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, setting the carrier down and letting her out.

Lola stretched and sauntered off, clearly unimpressed.

You rubbed your temples, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. This was going to be a long few weeks, wasn’t it?

----------------------------------------------------

Across the hall, Kuroo closed his door with a quiet chuckle, looking down at Loki, who was now lounging contentedly on the floor.

“Well, buddy,” he said, crouching down to scratch under Loki’s chin. “Looks like you’ve caused some chaos.”

Loki purred in response, blinking up at him with an air of smug satisfaction.

Kuroo leaned back against the door, a small smile lingering on his lips as he pulled his phone out to save your number properly. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment as he read Kitten Lady 🐾.

He stared at it for a beat longer, that grin of his softening slightly. This might just get interesting.

----------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly enough —or don’t— he was the one to text first just a day later. You’re at work, sipping coffee after a meeting, scrambling some papers on your desk when your phone buzzed. The Kitten Dad name made you squint your eyes.

Kitten Dad: Hey, goodday sweetheart. You good? Just got asked when is little Lola due. A friend from work might be interested in having one of the kitties.

I look at the text. A friend from work? He text and I can’t help but imagine how is he at work. Is he a manager? A head? A director? Which department is he from? If I had to guess I would say Sales — he’s charismatic enough to sell sand in the desert.

I huff in annoyance with my own train of thought. Why am I thinking so hard about it? I take my phone to answer.

Kitten Lady 🐾: Hey. Vet said she’s due two weeks from now.

The response was simple, straightforward. Yet, as you set your phone down, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d sounded too curt. No, you told yourself firmly. It’s just a text. No need to overthink.

But then, your phone buzzed again, and against your better judgment, you snatched it up almost immediately.

Kitten Dad: Two weeks, huh? That’s soon. Let me know if you need help setting things up for her. I’m practically a cat expert now.

You bit back a smile. Cat expert, huh? You could practically see that cocky smirk on his face, the same one he’d worn when he leaned in the doorframe last night.

Kitten Lady 🐾: Oh, are you? Should I start calling you Dr. Meow?

It took less than a minute for his reply to come through.

Kitten Dad: Has a nice ring to it. Or Cat Whisperer. Either works.

You let out a small laugh, earning a confused look from a passing coworker. Quickly composing yourself, you turned back to your desk, cheeks warming for no apparent reason.

----------------------------------------------------

By the time you got home that evening, you were surprised to find Kuroo opening his door, like he was waiting for you to arrive to leave and talk to you. He was holding a small, rectangular package in his hands and greeted you with his signature grin as he walked torwads you and your door as you opened it.

“Evening, Kitten Lady,” he said smoothly. “Perfect timing.”

You blinked, shifting your bag onto your shoulder. “Uh, hey? What’s that?”

“Thought I’d swing by and help with that whole ‘setting up for Lola’ thing,” he said, holding up the package. “Got a starter kit—fluffy blankets, soft toys, and some other stuff. Figured it might make her more comfortable when the kittens arrive.”

You stared at him, stunned. For all the teasing and smug remarks, you hadn’t expected this. “You… bought stuff for Lola?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “I mean, it’s partially Loki’s fault, right? I can’t exactly leave you hanging.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. There was a sincerity in his tone that caught you off guard. He wasn’t just trying to charm his way out of responsibility—he was actually being… thoughtful.

“That’s… really nice of you,” you said finally, unlocking your door. “Thanks, Kuroo.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, following you inside.

Lola, as always, was lounging regally on the couch, barely sparing Kuroo and Loki—who had, unsurprisingly, followed him to your place unbothered—a passing glance.

“She really does act like a queen, doesn’t she?” Kuroo said, setting the box down and kneeling to unpack its contents.

“She’s earned it,” you replied, watching as he pulled out a fluffy blanket and a tiny cat bed. “I mean, look at her. She’s unbothered by everything.”

“Clearly,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “She didn’t even flinch when Loki walked in like he owns the place.”

You snorted, crossing your arms. “She’s probably plotting her revenge for him ruining her peace.”

Kuroo laughed, the sound warm and easy, and you found yourself smiling despite yourself. He had a way of making everything feel light, even when you wanted to stay annoyed.

“Alright,” he said, turning back to the task at hand. “Where do you want this stuff? I’ll help you set up her little kitten corner.”

You hesitated for a moment, but eventually pointed to a cozy nook near the window. “Over there, I guess. She likes the sun.”

“Got it,” he said, grabbing the blanket and bed.

As you watched him work, his movements uncharacteristically focused, you couldn’t help but wonder: was this the same guy who smirked at you in elevators and flirted shamelessly by his door? Because right now, he looked… different. Softer, somehow.

“You know,” you said after a moment, “you’re surprisingly good at this whole ‘cat dad’ thing.”

He looked up, his grin returning. “What can I say? I have hidden talents.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. Maybe this arrangement wouldn’t be so bad after all.

----------------------------------------------------

The kitten corner was finally set up, and Lola had already claimed her throne atop the soft new bed. Loki, meanwhile, was having the time of his life pawing at one of the dangling toys Kuroo had brought over, batting it around like a tiny predator.

You were in the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets for something to fix up while Kuroo lounged on the couch. The sound of his laughter floated through the room, warm and unrestrained, as Loki miscalculated a jump and landed in a comically undignified sprawl.

“You weren’t kidding about him being a troublemaker,” you called over your shoulder, smiling to yourself as you grabbed a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine you’d been saving for some occasion. This felt good enough.

“Hey, he’s a charming troublemaker,” Kuroo countered, his voice carrying an easy humor. “Loki’s got personality. You can’t fault him for that.”

You rolled your eyes, pouring the wine. “If by ‘personality,’ you mean a complete lack of grace, then sure.”

“Hey now,” he said, mock-defensive, “I’ll have you know he’s a highly sophisticated creature.”

Turning with the glasses in hand, you walked back to the couch and handed him one, tilting your head toward Loki, who was currently tangled in the blanket he’d been pouncing on. “Yeah, I can see the sophistication from here.”

Kuroo snorted, taking the glass from you with a murmured “Thanks,” before shifting to make room for you to sit. You settled cross-legged into the cushion next to him, a comfortable silence falling as you both watched the cats in their oddly synchronized chaos.

“So,” you said after a moment, swirling the wine in your glass, “what do you actually do? Besides spoil Loki and crash your neighbor’s evening.”

Kuroo grinned, taking a slow sip before answering. “I’m a PR manager for the promotion division at JVA. Basically, I work with the teams that keep the company and our sponsors happy. Events, campaigns, all that good stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “JVA? As in the Japan Volleyball Association?”

“That’s the one,” he said, flashing a toothy grin. “Biggest name in the game. It’s a lot of work, but I like it. Keeps me on my toes.”

“Wow,” you said, nodding. “That actually explains a lot. You’ve got that… people-person vibe.”

“Oh?” he teased, leaning back against the couch. “And what vibe is that, exactly?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “You know. Smooth talker, always charming. Classic PR type.”

Kuroo chuckled, resting his arm casually along the back of the couch. “I’ll take that as a compliment. What about you? What’s the story with… what do you do, again?”

“Marketing manager,” you said, shrugging. “Different industry, same chaos. I work for a firm that handles branding for retail clients. It’s mostly brainstorming ad campaigns and arguing over budgets.”

“Sounds intense,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “But you’re good at it, huh?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “I mean, I guess. I like it. It’s creative, and it keeps me busy.”

“Busy’s good,” he said, nodding. “But it doesn’t leave much time for stuff like this, huh?”

You glanced at him, unsure what he meant, but his gaze was fixed on the cats now. Lola was swatting half-heartedly at Loki, who had resumed his enthusiastic assault on the dangling toy.

“No,” you admitted softly, swirling the wine in your glass again. “Not really. I guess I don’t usually let myself slow down.”

Kuroo looked at you then, his gaze steady but unreadable. “Well,” he said after a moment, his voice lighter again, “it’s a good thing you’ve got me to force some downtime on you, huh?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, is that what this is? A public service?”

“Exactly,” he said with mock seriousness, raising his glass in a toast. “Here’s to kitten diplomacy and responsible downtime.”

You clinked your glass against his, unable to hide your smile. “Cheers to that.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to relax. The warmth of the wine, the sound of his laughter, and the soft chaos of the cats were all more comforting than you’d expected. Maybe Kuroo wasn’t just a charming troublemaker after all.

And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind him crashing your evening.

----------------------------------------------------

Two glasses of wine in, and you were feeling a little loose, the warm buzz in your cheeks spreading to your limbs. The evening had been lighthearted—talking about work, random anecdotes, and occasional jokes about the cats and their ridiculous antics.

You were now sitting cross-legged on the couch, your messy bun more of a loose cluster than a tidy knot, strands of hair falling against your flushed cheeks. You animatedly gestured with your hands, describing some recent event at work. Kuroo is now leaning forward with that usual relaxed, playful energy that made you forget there was anyone else in the room.

“—and I swear, if I have to sit through one more ‘group synergy’ meeting, I’ll scream,” you finished with a dramatic sigh, dropping back onto the couch, rolling your eyes.

Kuroo snickered, leaning back, arms crossing behind his head as he relaxed. “Group synergy? That sounds like a nightmare. You really don’t like your coworkers, do you?”

You shot him a teasing glare, settling deeper into the couch. “I’m professional, I swear. But, seriously, it’s the worst. A whole hour, and not one person had anything worth saying. They spent half the time discussing what color the logo should be on our next campaign. I almost fell asleep.”

“Well, at least the logo’s going to look great,” Kuroo teased, reaching for his glass and taking a casual sip.

You snorted and looked at him sideways, the wine making you more comfortable than you intended. “You’re one to talk. You’ve probably sat through worse in PR. What’s the worst meeting you’ve ever had to deal with?”

Kuroo tilted his head, thinking. “Hmm, I guess the worst was this entire week-long campaign brainstorming session where we just talked about the idea but never actually did anything. People in that room were like… walking around in their own little PR bubbles. I nearly lost my mind.”

“Is that why you’re so laid-back now? You survived that chaos and just decided to become a permanent chill vibe?”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “I figured if I could survive that and still be sane, I deserve to kick back a little.”

You shook your head, still grinning. “I can’t believe you’ve been in that world for so long. You must have some stories.”

Kuroo’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and you realized you might’ve just opened a can of worms. “Oh, definitely. A lot of interesting ones. You know, the kind where you end up questioning your life choices. And not only work-related.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “You’re gonna have to elaborate on that.”

He leaned in, his voice taking on a more conspiratorial tone. “Alright, alright. So, there was this one relationship I had.” He started, and you raise one eyebrow, not expecting him to just switch from work to personal relationship so quickly “She was a wild ride—great at first, but things got a little… crazy. Started out all perfect, you know? But then she started bringing up wedding ideas after a couple of months, and I’m like, ‘Whoa, hold up.’”

You laughed, raising your glass, poiting at him, remembering the topic from earlier, but not entirely knowing the story. “Wait, wait—this is the ex who nearly got you to the altar?”

“Yup,” Kuroo said with a smirk, swirling his glass, “but I guess she wasn’t the ‘I Do’ type, if you know what I mean.” He winked, and the playful lilt in his voice had you biting back a smile.

“No way. Did she have one of those ‘we need to talk’ moments?”

He nodded dramatically. “Oh, she sure did. But instead of talking, she got me into a whole emotional spiral. I was supposed to pick out wedding rings, and I—” He cut himself off with a laugh, shaking his head. “I mean, talk about commitment issues. You would have thought I was getting married to someone else the way she freaked out.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “That’s insane. What did you do?”

“Well, after a long string of very loud discussions, I ended up booking a solo trip to Thailand for some ‘soul-searching.’ I didn’t come back with a ring, but I did come back with a lot of souvenirs and a much-needed reality check.”

Your lips curled into a smile, impressed. “I mean, I don’t blame you. That sounds like a red flag festival.”

“Exactly.” Kuroo leaned back, letting out a chuckle. “I don’t think she ever quite understood why I ghosted her after that.”

You shrugged, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Well, sounds like you dodged a bullet. She was probably a headache.”

“Oh, definitely,” he said with a wink. “But, hey, I’m better for it. You live and you learn, right?”

Your expression softened, just for a moment. “Yeah, I guess so. Can’t say I’ve been any better at picking ideal relationships either.”

Kuroo’s gaze flickered to you for a moment, and the sudden shift in the air wasn’t lost on either of you. You could feel the tension coil between you, subtle but undeniable. He tilted his head, his tone more curious.

“You’ve had your fair share of messy affairs?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, but your fingers fidgeted with your wine glass. “I mean, I was in an office relationship once. It was… well, it was a disaster, to be honest. Started out all hot and heavy, you know? But once we hit that *‘what’s next?’* phase, everything went south.”

“Office romances are always a gamble,” he said, voice quieter now. “Especially when someone can’t handle the post-work hours realities.”

You let out a soft laugh, but there was a certain edge to it. “Yeah, and the worst part? I thought we were solid. But he ended up freaking out when things got serious. Real ‘let’s keep it casual’ kind of guy.”

There it was again—the unspoken weight in the air. You could feel it creeping closer, like the world had just tilted slightly. You were both leaning in, caught in this space where the conversation could go anywhere—or nowhere.

“Funny how that happens,” Kuroo murmured, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips and back again.

You swallowed hard, lips slightly parted, suddenly aware of how close he was. “Yeah,” you said softly, the atmosphere thickening. “Funny…”

A long beat of silence followed. Then, as if the universe itself had just cleared its throat, Kuroo’s smirk deepened, and he leaned back slightly, breaking the tension just enough to let you both breathe again.

“Well, at least you didn’t nearly get engaged,” he said with a teasing grin. “I think that takes the cake on ‘bad decisions’.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh, relieved for the lighthearted tone again. “I’d be so much better at picking next time,” you said, looking at him with a sly grin. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering down to your lips once more. “Oh? What exactly does that lesson look like?”

You felt the heat of his gaze, and the sudden closeness seemed to make the space between you shrink even further. The way he was looking at you, the slight tilt of his head—it was almost like he was waiting for you to make the next move. It made your heart skip a beat.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus, but it was hard to ignore the way your body seemed to lean in just a little closer, drawn to him like a magnet. “Maybe…” you began slowly, your voice soft but carrying the weight of something unspoken, “maybe I’ll go for someone who doesn’t have a one-way ticket to Crazy Town.”

Kuroo’s lips curled into a half-smile, but it wasn’t as playful anymore. There was a hint of something else lurking beneath. He leaned in, ever so slightly, as if testing the waters. “You know,” he said quietly, “sometimes, a little bit of crazy isn’t always a bad thing.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Is that so?” You met his gaze head-on, not backing down, but feeling your pulse pick up.

“Yeah,” Kuroo replied, his voice lower now, his tone shifting, “sometimes it’s just the right kind of chaos that makes things… interesting.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke, the words heavy with an almost tangible tension.

For a moment, the space between you seemed to dissolve entirely, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was this close to crossing that line. The line you both knew was there, but neither of you had acknowledged it yet.

“Is that what you’re offering?” you teased lightly, though you could hear the slight quiver in your own voice.

Kuroo’s smirk widened just slightly, but the warmth in his eyes remained. “Maybe…” His voice trailed off, but the way he said it made you feel like there was more to it, like he was almost daring you to take it further.

You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in just a little, your lips almost brushing as you whispered, “Maybe I’m not sure if I want to risk another ‘chaos’ just yet.”

Kuroo's gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest moment, and you could feel the charged atmosphere shifting. The space between you was narrowing faster than either of you could pretend it wasn’t. He leaned in a fraction more, and his breath was warm against your skin. “Maybe… that’s a risk worth taking,” he murmured, his voice now barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced, the distance between you two was practically nonexistent now. You could feel the heat of his body, his presence taking up all the space in the room. The playful teasing was gone—replaced by something far more intimate. More dangerous. His hand reached out, brushing your hair back from your face with a tenderness that had your breath catching in your throat.

Before you could respond, Kuroo's fingers slid gently down your jaw, and his thumb lightly grazed your bottom lip. The gesture was simple, but it felt like the world had stopped. The kiss was inevitable now.

Slowly, almost too slowly, he tilted his head, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most deliberate way. The touch was electric, sending a spark of heat rushing through your veins. You were almost caught off-guard by the intensity of it, but it didn’t take long for your lips to part, inviting him closer.

His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper, as the kiss grew more urgent, more demanding. The world around you melted away, the only thing left was the heat between you two. His lips moved with a teasing confidence, making sure you felt every second of it.

His tongue lapped on your wet cave like a thirsty man that haven’t seen water in years, and the sweet taste of wine made your head spin, chasing his own tongue in a soft sucking move that drove him insane.

When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, both of you trying to catch your breath. His lips curled into that familiar, mischievous grin. “Guess that’s one way to make a decision,” he said, voice low and raspy.

You opened your eyes to find him watching you, eyes darkened with something more than playfulness. There was still a hint of the teasing smile on his lips, but now it was accompanied by something far more tempting.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice a little breathless, “I think I’m starting to see what you mean by chaos.”

He chuckled, his hand still on your neck, fingers tracing small, absent circles on your skin. “Well, I’m not all bad at it,” he said with a wink. Without warning, Kuroo tugged gently on your arm, pulling you toward him until you were no longer leaning back on the couch. Before you could fully process it, you were perched on his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his thighs, the space between you two completely gone.

For a moment, you just sat there, a little stunned by how naturally it all happened. His hands slid to your waist, holding you firmly in place as his gaze swept over you. “You look better here,” he said, his voice deep, eyes never leaving yours.

You couldn’t help but laugh, trying to hide the sudden nerves that started to bubble up in your stomach. “Well, this is a bit of an upgrade.” You gave him a teasing smile, your hands resting on his shoulders, but the tension between you was palpable now.

Kuroo’s fingers tightened just slightly on your waist, his expression turning more serious. “Better be careful. We’re both dangerously close to making some bad decisions here.”

“Are you trying to scare me off?” You tilted your head, the edge of a challenge in your tone, but deep down, you weren’t sure whether you wanted him to back off or pull you even closer.

“Nope,” Kuroo said, his lips curling into a grin as he gently tugged you even closer, your body now pressed against his. “Just making sure you know exactly what you’re getting into.”

Before you could respond, Kuroo’s lips found yours again—hungry, a little less playful this time, but just as consuming. Your body reacted immediately, the heat between you two igniting in an instant. There was no more teasing, no more games. The only thing that mattered was the feel of his lips on yours, the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer, if that was possible.

When he finally broke the kiss again, he exhaled slowly, resting his forehead against yours. “You sure you want to keep going?” he whispered, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the desire in it.

You grinned, your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw, the touch almost affectionate now, despite the electricity between you. “I think,” you said slowly, your lips curling into a mischievous smile, “I’m already in too deep.”

Kuroo’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your waist as his smirk returned, cocky and satisfied. “Good. Because I’m just getting started.”

----------------------------------------------------

The make out session felt like it went on for hours straight. Enough for Loki and Lola engross themselves in the biggest nap, both balls of fur tangled on the fluffy bed.

One of Kuroo’s hand is sliding up your thigh, his long, slender and strong fingers slightly entering the hem of your cotton shorts, squeezing the flesh in his palm. His free arm is sneaked around your waist, pushing you flush against him on the couch as he spreads his legs, making yours spread in the process.

Your hair is as messy as it can get, your cheeks are flushed, your eyes are darkened and dilated, your white dress shirt have three buttons open and is half slid down your shoulder, exposing just a teasing piece of your black lacy bra, making the cleavage a white canvas for his lips to paint with soft red marks.

In swift subtle moves, your body unconsciously grinds down on his hard erection strained through his pants, offering a delicious type of friction that sends a wave of pleasure through your bodies and is both a torment and a relief. The movement makes Kuroo groan inside your mouth, and you swallow his noises like it can feed you phisiologically speaking.

You two are like a couple of horny teenagers dry humping each other on the couch and almost completely out of it. Almost.

That’s when a couple of knocks and a door bell incessantly ringing filled both your ears. Not from your place, but from Kuroo’s. And he groans deeply.

He completely forgot the boy’s night he planned hosting with Bokuto and Kenma in his place, and he mentally curses the past Kuroo Tetsuro for his life choices. But how can he had antecipated that a cat visit to spoil Lola and Loki’s future offspring would end up in his hot neighbor straddling his lap like a five course meal?

When his phone started buzzing on your coffee table with “owl guy” on the screen, he shouted from under you a “I’m coming, damn it”, more huffed and annoyed than he would like, but he didn’t care at the moment.

The scream pacified the guy out there for now, and he collapsed his head on the crook of your neck, mumbling against your skin.

“I gotta go, apparently” — he said while placing soft kisses on your skin, trying to come down from the high and dissipate the intensity between you. You hummed, already resigned with the fate that the momentum between you ended.

“Mkay…” You said, nuzzling in his hair, breathing in the scent of his musky shampoo, trying to tattoo it on your memory. “Go before the guy out there lose his patience,”

He huffed a chuckle on your neck, making you shiver, and you proceed to desintangle yourself from his lap as he stands up. Now standing, Kuroo whistle to Loki, calling him with a soft “Come on, boy” that makes you want it was meant for you. The black cat stands up with his ears perked up, slowly walking behind Kuroo.

You two don’t bid goodbye, not feeling the need to, and the things feel even more unfinished than ever.

----------------------------------------------------

As Kuroo leaves your door, hair messy, traces of smeared pink lipstick on his lips, his jaw and his neck, ragged breath, wrinkled clothes, Bokuto’s eyes widen and he tilted his head like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“I…” Bokuto started, looking from his door to the door he left “Bro, did I miss your door?”

Kuroo just rolled his eyes, trying to hide a smug smile, walking torwards his door to enter, not bothering answer his question, making the owl guy let out a boisterous laugh

“Ohoho, boy’s night just got a hot topic!”

----------------------------------------------------

Kuroo’s splashed in his couch, sipping from a bottle of water, while Bokuto is sitting on the counter stool, sipping one of Kuroo’s fancy scotches, looking at Kuroo with a funny face.

“Wait, bro, let me see if I got this straight… Your cat… banged the hot neighbor’s cat.. And now you’re doing the same?” Bokuto summarized the story that Kuroo just told him.

“That… sounded… animalistic”

Bokuto snorted, nearly spilling his drink. "Oh, come on, bro. You can’t tell me it’s not poetic. It’s like… fate. Two star-crossed lovers”

Kuroo sighed, rubbing his face with one hand while reaching for his own drink with the other. “First of all, no. Don’t call it fate. Second, Loki didn’t ‘fall in love.’ He just knocked up her cat, and now I’m stuck playing awkward in-law.”

Bokuto wiggled his eyebrows. “And you accidentally ended up in a heavy make-out session with said cat’s owner?”

Kuroo shot him a deadpan look. “Yes, Bokuto. That’s exactly how it happened. I tripped and landed with my tongue in her mouth.”

Bokuto gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “That’s insane! How’d you even keep your balance?”

Kuroo exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you.”

Kenma, who had been half-listening while scrolling through his phone, finally spoke up from the other end of the couch, locking the phone and tossing on the coffee table. “So, are you actually into her, or was this just the wine?”

Kuroo opened his mouth, then closed it. A beat passed. Then another.

Bokuto leaned forward like he could smell the hesitation. “Ohhh, you like her.”

Kuroo groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. “I never said that.”

Kenma didn’t even glance up from his phone. “You didn’t have to.”

Bokuto grinned wildly. “Dude, you totally do. You’ve been all ‘hot neighbor this, hot neighbor that’ for months, and now you’re sitting here, looking like you just crawled out of a romance novel—messy hair, lipstick all over you, breathing like you ran a marathon—”

“Alright,” Kuroo cut in, pointing a warning finger. “I met her yesterday. There’s nothing there. We’re done with this conversation.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes at the topic, but his mind was already back at your place, back to the way you felt on his lap, the taste of wine lingering between kisses, and the way your fingers had tangled in his hair like you belonged there.

Yeah, he was screwed.

Bokuto smirked behind his glass. “You know that’s sus, bro. You never not wanna talk about the girls you hook up, sometimes you even share too much for our ears sake. And now you’re done with this conversation? Weird as hell. Are you high on catnip or something?”

Kuroo scoffed, taking a slow sip of his water, trying to ignore the way his ears burned at Bokuto’s words. “I just don’t feel like giving you two a play-by-play of my night, alright? Not everything is meant for your entertainment.”

Bokuto gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Kuroo Tetsuro, keeping a secret? Scandalous.”

Kenma hummed, eyes narrowingskeptically. “It’s either serious or embarrassing. Either way, he’s hiding something.”

Kuroo groaned, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Oh my god, can we talk about something else?”

Bokuto, ignoring him completely, turned to Kenma. “Serious and embarrassing is my guess. I mean, look at him—he’s got that ‘I just realized I have a crush’ face.”

Kenma finally looked up, golden eyes scanning Kuroo for a long, quiet second. Then, with the precision of a seasoned gamer landing a final headshot, he muttered with a smug smile, “You’re overthinking it already, aren’t you?”

Kuroo opened his mouth, but no words came out. His jaw tightened.

Bokuto’s grin widened. “Ohhh, he is.”

Kuroo scowled, sinking deeper into the couch. He hated how well they knew him. He hated even more that they weren’t wrong. His brain had been stuck replaying the feel of you against him, the way your breath had hitched when he’d gripped your thigh, the way your lips had parted right before he kissed you again— everything seemingly so physical and superficial, but there’s a deepth he’s not familiar with in the slightest. Is it the cat connection? Is it because you two shared too much right before the make out session and he realized how you’re a mix of smart, successful, hardworking, independent and authentic wrapped up in devastatingly hot body and pretty face?.

Shit.

He needed to get a grip.

With a sigh, he grabbed the scotch glass from Bokuto’s hand and took a sip himself. “I swear, you two have way too much time on your hands.”

Bokuto just wiggled his eyebrows. “And you have a hot neighbor on your hands.”

Kenma smirked slightly, going back to his phone. “This is gonna be fun to watch.”

Kuroo exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “I hate both of you.”

Bokuto just laughed, spinning the empty glass in his hands. “Nah, you love us. Just like you looove—”

“Finish that sentence and I’m throwing you off my balcony.”

Bokuto made a show of zipping his lips but kept grinning like he’d already won. And, honestly, maybe he had.

Because Kuroo was distracted. He was so distracted.

Even as Kenma and Bokuto bickered about what game to play next, his mind kept drifting back—to your place, to the taste of wine and heat on your lips, to the way your fingers had tugged at his hair like you needed him.

It was supposed to be a casual thing. Just some alcohol-induced fun. That’s what he’d told himself when he went for the kiss. But the way his body was still thrumming with leftover electricity and his mind was yearning for a deeper connection told a different story.

And the worst part?

He wanted more.

A lot more.

With a quiet groan, he tipped his head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers. Maybe he really was screwed.

Kenma’s voice pulled him back to the present. “So, when are you seeing her again?”

Kuroo scoffed, grabbing his phone from the coffee table. “I don’t know. Whenever Loki and I happen to bump into her, I guess.”

Bokuto snorted. “Dude, your cat is literally dating her cat. You have the perfect excuse.”

Kuroo glared at him, but his fingers hovered over your name in his messages. Should he text you? Would that be weird? Too soon? Too obvious?

Before he could overthink it, his phone vibrated with a new message.

Kitten Lady: Hey, I was thinking about making some arrangements in the kittens corner tomorrow. Wanna come help me with it?

Kuroo blinked, rereading the text. A slow smirk spread across his lips.

Kenma, eyebrows widden in a stunned expression, muttered, “He’s smiling. This is worse than I thought.”

Bokuto clapped his hands together. “Boys, we have a situation!”

[petrawood]

I saw someone post a tweet about how a lot of people in the Inquisition must have suspected that something was off about Solas, and out of all of them Bull knew that there was something fishy going on for SURE but the scope of the whole thing was just too big for him to have guessed exactly what was going on.

So, that made me think how the whole reveal must have been like if it actually happened in our world and oh my god it's SO ridiculous.

Btw, this is obviously OOC, but it's just. Solas makes SUCH a character oh my god.

---

Imagine you are an Interpol agent that joins the CIA for this one very important and very specific mission. Everyone knows that you work for another organization and you are a trained and highly competent agent, but the situation is so dire that the CIA is basically hiring everyone who could help.

So, there is this one very weird guy.

He wears an old hoodie and yoga pants. When asked where he came from, he tells you that he is into outdoor living, so just "outside, you know, somewhere". He has no qualifications apart from being a skilled hacker and really really really good at navigating the Deep Web. In fact, he's an expert at it, to the point of being the Deep Web specialist of the team. He walks around BAREFOOT.

He is a WEIRDO.

You assume he is just some guy probably over his head, pretty helpful but that's kinda it. You are going to keep an eye on him anyway, as you keep an eye on most people.

And suddenly, things start no adding up.

You ask him how he learned to hack into the deep web and he answers that he just likes sleeping under bridges and there is very good internet connection there, so he ended up learning. He doesn't elaborate.

For a guy that spends all his time sleeping on the floor and hunched over a computer, you notice that he is actually BUILT. You cannot tell over the oversized hoodie, but that guy has muscle. Once it comes up, he looks you in the eyes and tells you that that's just normal when you live in the outside like him.

You need somebody to pilot an helicopter. He knows how to pilot an helicopter. "Oh, I just watched a video tutorial. You know, in the Deep Web".

You need to steal some nuclear codes. "Oh I know how to cancel those nuclear codes. I found a lot of documents explaining how to do it. You know, in the Deep Web".

You need to plan a coup. "Oh yeah I know all about backstabbing politics. I found a list of all the relevant politicians and the country's corrupt history. You know, in the deep web"

You are in the middle of said backstabbing and he's slightly tipsy looking fondly at the whole thing like "oh how I missed the vibe of a nepotist state. No one throws a party like corrupted politicians- Not that I've been in one before, of course. I've only seen videos. You know, in the deep web"

He drives the other two expert hackers out of their minds. "I don't know how you managed to get this position, you don't even have a Doctorate" "Doctorates are overrated, I think you all would do better if you came to vibe under a bridge like me"

He actually is OBSESSED with overthrowing institutions.

The hackers tear him a new one because they find his Hacker Drip lacking (fair). And he smells like Cheetos.

"I made a lot of friends on the Deep Web forums"

At this point you are convinced that this guy HAS to have something else going on. There is simply NO way someone would know so many things from his deep web premium access under a bridge.

Your best bet has to be that he's another secret agent, a very highly trained one at that, right? Or maybe a highcore antifa member? He either has inside information of the CIA or he's looking for it. But he has been ridiculous helpful so far, so you just can't tell what he's hiding and why.

And then one day guy, this FUCKING guy.

He shows up and tells your Boss that he's actually the ancient god Loki from the Nordic pantheon. That he created death, but is sorry so he's actually going to join the Earth with Heaven and Hell. A lot of people would die because of the Demons and you know, Earth as it is not existing anymore, but that's a sacrifice he's willing to make.

Now tell me, how the FUCK were you supposed to guess THAT.

[vandal-flower]

Great Power Comes with No Responsibilities

Ror men with a powerful but lazy s/o.

Requested by 🦅 anon.

Characters: Qin Shi Huang, Jack the Ripper, Buddha and Loki.

Warnings: A bit of angst in Jack's part. 😶

Notes: Do you think I wrote too much this time?

Scenario:

"Female god reader who is extremely powerful but lazy , lazy in the means she liked to lie down and sleep a lot , if she wants to she could kill zeus and she can be really intimidating but shes soft around them."

Qin Shi Huang

He didn't even notice you were a god.

You looked too exhausted to function, and yet you were ready to fight whomever tried to harm him.

He would take care of any obstacles that would dare present itself to him, but he loves how you sort the situation than he does.

There were times where you offered to lift his curse, but he declined.

According to him, if he as an emperor could not endure this curse, how could he rule a nation.

You haven't heard such wise words from anyone else before. You smile at him, and gently give him a kiss on his head.

No one dares to challenge either of you as they fear the both individually.

In private, he declares his love and loyalty for you, as the two of you embrace each other.

"Even if the Heavens dare to object our love, we'll remain ontop."

Jack the Ripper

He's honestly surprised how someone like you could love a man like him.

He has faced many hardships, threats and much more from people who knew him and those who don't.

However, when it comes to you, he can't help but cry a little at the smallest hint of love and kindness someone has ever given him.

Someone who is even more powerful than Zeus himself. Despite your intimidating nature, he finds it soothing.

Especially when you are so soft around him. He often wonders what he did to be loved and cherished by someone like you.

Many wanted to end his life even before he fought Hercules. He is very thankful that you continue to defend him even with your reputation at stake.

You often don't mind defending him against the other gods, after all he is your lover.

It's unknown how you two got together, but it does not matter as the two of you are head over heels for each other. (Good for you.)

"I don't know what I did to have to have you in my life, but I promise to cherish our time forever my dear."

Buddha

My guy here is taking advantage of the whole situation.

You can't blame him though, he is literally in a relationship with someone who is as strong, if not stronger than a primordial god!

Many wonder how in the world did you end up with someone like him, but seeing how lazy you are, it makes sense.

Often times, when Zeus threatens to punish him, you put Zeus in his place, promising an eternity of pain should he ever hurt your lover.

The smirk on his face says it all. (Me too.)

He is happy at the fact that even though you are powerful enough to defeat Zeus, or any chief god, you don't get arrogant.

Despite how powerful you are, he treats you the same way he treats everyone, just with more affection.

You bet he's telling Jataka about you, and how much he loves you!

"Thanks for taking care of the other gods for me. I'll cuddle you later if you want honeybun."

Loki

Another one on the list of taking advantage of this, however to an even greater degree. (What did you expect?)

Whenever he pranks Thor or Odin, he immediately runs to you. The two can't do anything but give him a death glare.

He's busy giggling his bum off behind your back, as you wake up from your nap and question who woke you up.

He often questions you if Zeus truly is the Grandfather of the Cosmos. To which you reply an exhausted, "No, it's only because he is powerful and looks older than he is."

At first he thought you were a demigod due to how sluggish you were acting. But quickly straightened up after seeing Zeus treat you with more respect than anyone.

He tried pranking you, but you were too tired to notice anything. And when you did notice, it backfired on him, resulting to him being confined in the emergency room.

He definitely thinks you're weird and has voiced this, but knows you won't care either way. He also tries to get a reaction from you.

He likes telling you the latest stories (or gossip) from the Heavens. You sometimes stay awake just to hear them.

"Apparently there was a rumors spreading around about Aphrodite's beauty salon."

I probably wrote too much didn't I.

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

[cakeandpudding1]

Cheating headcanons but they regret it ;)

So let's say maybe he might've found a lover more suited for him, even though he was already in a perfectly good relationship with you, then suddenly got caught. Thought he didn't really need you anymore, but started to miss u and regretted it. How'd that go? Well..

Fandoms : Bllk, lookism, record of Ragnarok

Typa guy to cry himself to sleep with a picture of you beside him to make it more dramatic and movie-like. Mumbling things to it like, "I'll get you back, love."

- yukimiya kenyu bllk, -Reo mikage bllk, Rin itoshi bllk -ikki niko bllk -Alexis ness bllk -Yo hiori bllk, -Beelzebub ROR -Zack lee lookism -daniel park lookism -Eli Jang lookism -johan seong lookism

Stalks your social media posts, liking it/showing that he acknowledges whatever the fuck you just posted. Or makes comments abt things you do or did, Knowing that getting attention from someone like him would be something out of a fanfiction. (Rlly confident abt it too)

-Noel noa bllk -Sae itoshi bllk -Michael kaiser bllk -Reo mikage -Leonardo Luna -Seishiro nagi bllk -Oliver aiku bllk -Chris prince bllk -DG/James lee lookism, -jaegyeon na lookism, -Goo Kim lookism -Hades RoR -Poseidon RoR -Buddha RoR -Qin shi Huang -Apollo RoR -Thor RoR

Type to glare or take your attention from anything that will distract you from him. Randomly talking about all his amazing achievements or skills, saying it wasn't that difficult or wasn't a big deal- when YOU're around.

-Michael kaiser bllk, -Sae itoshi bllk, -Chris prince bllk, -Noel noa bllk, -kunigami rensuke/wild card bllk, -Apollo RoR -Hades RoR, -Poseidon RoR, -Shiva RoR, -Loki RoR, -Qin shi Huang/ying Zheng RoR, -DG/James lee lookism, -Gun park lookism, -Goo Kim lookism, -Vin Jin lookism, -Zack lee lookism, -Jaegyeon na lookism, -bachira meguru bllk

Rizzes you up

-Michael kaiser bllk, -Shidou ryusei bllk, -tabito karasu bllk, -eita otoya bllk, -Oliver aiku bllk, -Leonardo Luna bllk, -Apollo RoR, -Buddha RoR, -Qin shi Huang/ying Zheng RoR, -Loki RoR, -DG/James lee lookism, -jaegyeon na lookism, -Vin Jin lookism, -Goo Kim lookism

Threatens anyone with/without you knowing, maybe a silent glare, actions, death threats, or maybe even all-out-violence, making it known to them that you were already taken.

-Sae itoshi bllk, -Michael kaiser bllk, -itoshi Rin bllk, -shidou ryusei bllk, -Alexis ness bllk, -Kunigami rensuke bllk, -Poseidon RoR, -Hades RoR, -Loki RoR, -Leonidas RoR, -Lu bu RoR, -Soji Okita RoR, -Raiden RoR, -Goo Kim lookism, -Vin Jin lookism, -James lee lookism, -Gun park lookism.

Actually normal

-nanase bllk, -yukimiya kenyu bllk, -Thor RoR, -Isagi yoichi bllk, -Hyoma chigiri bllk, -Noel noa bllk, -shoei barou bllk, Julian Loki bllk, Adam Blake bllk, Daniel park lookism, -jin kiyora,

Cries rlly hard and/or begs for forgiveness

-Aoshi tokimitsu bllk, -ikki niko bllk, -Alexis ness bllk, -beelzebub RoR, -Anubis RoR, -jay hong lookism, -Goo Kim lookism(pathetically tbh), -Daniel park lookism -bachira meguru bllk

Forcing/Kidnapping/toxic type shi route (has potential of being a lovesick jerk (too much ooc here)')

-Michael kaiser bllk, -Sae itoshi bllk, -Alexis ness bllk, -Leonardo Luna bllk, -Hades RoR, -Poseidon RoR, -Apollo RoR, -Buddha RoR(he'd be all buddy buddy and then suddenly Carry you somewhere), -Qin shi Huang RoR, -Beelzebub RoR, -DG/James lee lookism, -Gun park lookism, -Goo Kim lookism, -Charles choi(in his youth) lookism

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I'm finally done 😌

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

crawling back to you

part two of promise

a/n: so i lowkey kinda forgot that the timeline here doesn’t really make sense, especially since in episode rin it’s stated that there was at least six months between rin leaving for blue lock and his fight with sae…let’s just ignore that plot hole.

song ; do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys

itoshi rin always worked hard.

he practiced soccer to the point of exhaustion. he never complained about inhuman training times. he never whined about having to wake up at five in the morning every day. he always stuck to whatever meal his nutritionist told him to eat. he always stayed up late analyzing the tactics and strategies of other teams. he was accepted into the prestigious re al at only sixteen, and continued to play for them even now, in his twenties.

his teammates always told him about how insane his sleep schedule was, and how hilarious it was. i mean, he slept at twelve am and woke up at five am! and yet he never seemed tired, never had dark circles underneath his eyes. his teammates always joked about him being a vampire, but rin couldn't care less.

not like he could sleep anyways.

he was twenty two now, but he still had regrets from when he was only fifteen. an unforgettably cold night, where a fuzzy scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck. his brother sae, who he had now made up with in re al, had just insulted and abandoned him the night before. rin got emotional, and he had gotten angry at you, who was perhaps the only person to ever not get mad at him no matter what he did.

but he had gotten you angry as well, and you had ignored him for sixteen days. sixteen. rin was too immature back then, and so he took it as a challenge to see who could pretend that it didn't affect them for longer. but on the seventeenth day, rin had gotten an invitation to blue lock, and he accepted the invitation.

joining blue lock was perhaps the best decision that rin had ever made. he got an offer from re al there, he got on good terms with julian loki and charles chevalier there, he made his largest rival isagi there, he made himself famous there. but at the same time, he couldn't see you there. and after he joined blue lock, he never saw you again. he had dropped out of school to play for re al after all.

now he sat on an airplane back to japan, as he needed to renew his passport. despite constantly being recommended to take business class, rin didn't see the point in spending his money on such a worthless thing. so he took an economy seat; he'll just take some melatonin and sleep the entire flight. hopefully, there would be no one sitting next to him at all and he could just have a peaceful rest for the entire flight. hopefully, no one will bother--

“shit, someone already took the window seat.”

rin snapped his head to the right, where the voice came from. but before he could tell you a quick “sounds like a you problem", his jaw dropped.

there you stood, eyes wide and fists clenched, eyebrows knit together and jaw slack. “rin? what the fuck? why are you…oh, wait, yeah. right. you're still a japanese citizen.”

rin's eyes narrowed. “and you're here because…” rin asked, though it sounded more like a statement to you.

“my friend from college had her wedding here. i just graduated a few months ago.” you drawled, sitting down on the seat next to him, though you scooted as far as you could from him.

“it's been years, and you're still mad at me,” rin pointed out. “that's immature.”

“wow. no hi? no hello? just straight up? orrrrrr you could have apologized years ago and we wouldn't be where we are today.” you ranted, face turning increasingly red. “also, good job on getting into re al. im sure sae was having a great day when he found out.”

rin ignored your remark, eyes of sea glass gazing at you. you've matured a lot. you were beautiful, really. well, you've always been, but perhaps it was the time away from you that made you look all the more perfect. but at the same time, rin felt knots begin to form in his stomach. he wasn't able to be with you for over seven years, in your teenage years, the most important time of your life.

for the first few hours on the plane, it was silent. you were just playing on your phone the entire time, while rin tried to fall asleep. he had forgotten to take the melatonin gummy, and now his mind was full of thoughts of you. but finally, he sighed, and he sat up.

“can i have your number?”

[lokifys]

Dirty Diary

Summary: Loki is horny and decides to channel it through writing that is about you, before he pleasures himself.

[Loki x Reader, Smut, Masturbation, Possessive Loki.]

Loki’s Writing:

Is this one of the punishments the Gods above have placed upon me? To feel so much for a singular being and not have the courage to do anything about it? I ponder about her in every waking moment of my day. Every second, I imagine what it would be like for her to simply feel the same way I do for her. Does she think of me as someone she can trust with her life? Is she still deep down afraid of me? It eats away at me little by little, not knowing how she feels about me. I fear that once it consumes me whole, I’ll never be the same again.

I think today’s that day.

My self-control to not give in to my desires of pleasuring myself to oblivion over the thoughts of her has been doing fine. That is until now. My aching length, reacting to the anger and frustration of my overwhelming love for this mortal, has been incredibly pestilent. Thoughts of having her all to myself in my chambers back in Asgard, where I can keep her safe and content there, have made the issue in my pants harder to keep away from. I want her to feel how good I can make her feel. Prove to her that she only needs me and no one else.

As I’m writing, I can feel my pre-seminal fluids gushing and soaking the fabric of my mortal-designed pants I have donned. It does not look as good as the clothing made in Asgard, but it is most certainly comfortable, if I were to speak the truth. These pants, however, would be better off me now considering how my tight cock is straining against it, begging for it to be unleashed. It’s screaming for her. This is all her fault.

What a naughty little minx. Does she know the effect she has on me? What would she say if she knew? Would she want her wet slick to be penetrated by a godly sword that fits just right? Or would she think me a monster? I wouldn’t be able to handle that. I cannot lose her. She’s so dear to me, I believe it’s changing me. I’ve found myself stumbling over my words, which is completely the opposite of what it is to be silver-tongued.

Gods, am I weak? Is love a weakness that blinds even the most powerful being? Well, they wouldn’t be powerful if love truly is blinding them, isn’t it? But it means they’re happy, so perhaps nothing changes? Love is mysterious, and if I hadn’t been under that same spell, I would’ve scoffed at it. Thor got infatuated with a mortal woman, and I thought it was the most ridiculous thing on the planet. Yet now I’m met with the same fate, and I cannot think of anything else other than her.

I need her.

Oh Gods, I need her. I will face death over and over again if it means being close to her. I would kill for her. I wouldn’t believe she would want that, but if I had to do it for her sake, I will in a heartbeat.

I cannot control myself any longer, and I find my hand is slipping into my pants, trying to get any sort of contact my pulsing cock needs. One hand on the pen, one hand on my length.

Today is the day I finally admit I am in love with her, and there’s nothing that can ever make me leave her side. I am her God that she will worship one day, for all of time.

THIRD PERSON VIEW

Loki throws the pen and book away in a fit of frustration and raging lust as he quickly unzips his pants and undergarments, springing alive his massive cock. The tip was very pink and angry while pre-cum leaked out as if it were weeping. Usually, pleasuring oneself back on Asgard was never done way too often as there were always “better” ways to relieve yourself like sleeping with a handmaid or others who are willing to partake in that sort of activity with you. Pleasuring yourself was always just seen as when you have no other choice or you’re just really desperate.

He wasn’t going to hide it. He definitely was desperate. He yearns for you all the time, despite him being around you often. You’re always with him since he’s somehow the only person in the Avengers Tower you manage to become close friends with. People, especially Tony, would tell you to be cautious of him back in the beginning when they started noticing how you’re always around him. You never listened, though, continuing your friendship with Loki. The God of Mischief was a lot of things, but one thing you knew was he never would’ve hurt you.

This friendship means a lot to Loki, but he always wishes for more. He wishes for commitment. To be with you forever.

His hands start making their first movements on his veiny cock, sliding up really slowly before it goes down. He’s imagining the first scene where you’re on top of him, your pussy wet and hot for him, and you’re slowly going down on him, piercing your wet heat. You would let out a breathy moan, trying not to be too loud. Once he’s all in, you’d fall in front to meet his neck, nuzzling yourself as you adjust.

Right now his dick is practically pulsing for you, like it’s signaling your name in Morse code. Soon, he starts picking up the pace and pumps himself, using his leakage as a form of lubricant. His mouth subconsciously opens, and he lets out a breath. Oh, what he’d do to see the look on your face when he surprises you by thrusting into you from below, letting out a moan of surprise. To know you’re both safe with you in his arms, cradling you, is making him go crazy.

His other hand releases the mattress and finds its way to his balls, fondling them. Imagining it’s you below him, sucking and playing with them, is only adding to the experience as he found himself going ham on his length, his fist making a noise each time he hits his skin along with the wetness of his pre-cum. He realizes he’s lacking self-control now, unable to stop himself, so he quickly takes the imagination and goes forward towards the end, where he dreams of how things finish.

The trickster would be on top of you now, his arms sandwiched between you. Mirroring his fast paced fisting, he’d be pounding in you like a wild animal in heat, and your moans would drive him insane. It would be his turn for his head to drop down next to yours, smelling your natural scent as he leaves marks on your neck that would last for weeks. As he would do that, you’d whisper the magical three words that would change his life forever. That would consolidate the bond between you two.

“I…love you.”

“I love you, Loki.”

He imagined you’d repeat that over and over again, and on the last one…

“I love you.”

Loki’s hands were moving faster than lightning speed, and soon, white light filled his vision. He closed his eyes before spurting his seed everywhere on his stomach as he let out a loud groan. His body started shivering very slightly, which was something Loki didn’t really do often. The fact that he managed to do that just by the thought of you and his hands made him even more sure of his feelings for you. He pumped a feel more times before he relaxed and dropped his hand down.

Tears were starting to form in his eyes, and he wasn’t exactly about to cry but rather simply forming and clouding his vision. He wiped them away, not wanting it to be a big thing. He wondered if he did get to have you like this, would you sleep with him for the night? Or would you, like most people back on Asgard, rather sleep somewhere else? Or worse, you’d run to Thor and choose him over the God of Mischief and Lies. Over big, bad Loki.

No, you aren’t that cruel. He knows you. He knows you aren’t like them. Anyways, you mentioned you didn’t find Thor appealing in any shape or form, which was why it intrigued Loki. It made him happy if he was being honest. He is your God. Yours only.

He found his cock perking up again, and he sighed before going for round two, and then three and then more as he spent the entire night pumping and cumming, groaning your name repeatedly like a prayer or an incantation.

And when he wakes in the morning, he’ll be excited to see you again.

[frostdayz]

Bed

Loki x reader

genre: Fluff

summary: You and loki tangled in each others arms and words while laying in bed.

note: Such a shit summary but this is just something small and loki themed because I recently read a long ass fic on ao3 that was a 10/10

my stories never really describe the readers gender so unless stated otherwise all my stories are gn!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I blinked my eyes open, slowly adjusting to the brightness. For a moment, I forgot where I was, but then I felt it—the warmth, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath my cheek. I was curled up against Loki, our legs tangled together under the blankets.

I smiled to myself, savoring the rare moment of peace. Loki wasn’t exactly a morning person, and I had a feeling he was still asleep. Gently, I lifted my head to get a better look at him. His dark hair was tousled, a few strands falling across his forehead, and his face was relaxed, almost boyish in its softness. It was a side of him that few ever got to see.

Unable to resist, I reached up and brushed the stray hair away from his face. My fingers lingered, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. He stirred slightly, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Mm, what are you doing?” His voice was thick with sleep, and I couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it sounded.

“Just admiring the view,” I teased, resting my hand on his chest.

He opened one eye, peering at me with a mixture of amusement and mock annoyance. “You’re awfully chipper this morning,” he remarked, his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Maybe it’s because I woke up next to you,” I replied, unable to keep the affection out of my voice.

Loki’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, and he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I let out a contented sigh, snuggling against him. “We should do this more often. Just…stay in bed, with no worries, no responsibilities. Just us.”

He hummed in agreement, his fingers lazily drawing patterns on my back. “That sounds like a perfect way to spend the day,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “But you know as well as I do that our lives are rarely that simple.”

I pouted, though I knew he was right. “Can’t we pretend, just for a little while?”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “For you, my love, I’ll pretend all day if you wish.”

I grinned, my heart swelling with warmth at his words. “Then let’s stay here forever,” I declared, burrowing deeper into his embrace.

Loki tightened his hold on me, resting his chin on top of my head. “As you wish,” he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat.

We lay there in comfortable silence, the world outside our little cocoon of warmth and love feeling miles away. It was a rare and precious moment, one that I wanted to hold onto for as long as I could. In Loki’s arms, everything felt right. The worries and challenges of the world could wait. For now, all that mattered was this—just him and me, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet beauty of the morning.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words flowing from my heart without hesitation.

He tilted my chin up, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice soft but unwavering.

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things words could never fully express—a promise, a reassurance, a shared truth. When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us.

“Let’s stay like this a little longer,” I murmured.

“Forever,” he agreed.

[buck-star]

just read your ‚having to use your safeword‘ and loved it!!!!

got me thinking more about protective bucky during/before sex hehehe

what if reader is really drunk after a night out and while bucky wants to fuck her, he decides she’s too drunk

Thank you so much, glad you enjoyed “using your safe word” with Bucky Barnes. The idea is amazing, thank you!

Mention of sexual content

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Imagine you and Bucky went out, having a few drinks and you’re already tipsy while Bucky is completely sober. No surprise, he can drink as much as he wants and doesn’t get drunk, but he also doesn’t like too much alcohol, wanting to make sure he has a clear mind to take care of you.

So while Bucky’s sober, you’re tipsy, maybe even more than tipsy. He didn’t let you have the third drink you asked for, already chuckling when you stumbled over your own feet in the bar.

Bucky led you out of the bar, his arms were tightly wrapped around your waist to steady your movements. When you’re safely home Bucky helps you out of your shoes and jacket before he carries you into your shared bedroom.

“Need you, Buck,” you whine, grinding your hips against Bucky’s, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. Your fingers comb through his soft, brown locks, tugging slightly at them until Bucky groans. “Please, Buck.”

Your whines and breathy moans against his mouth make him go crazy, your cunt rubbing over his hardening cock. Bucky lays you down on the bed, thrusting his hips against yours, letting you feel his thick length through his pants.

“You want me, babydoll?” Bucky asks, grinning when your moans get more desperate and your fingers curl further into his hair. You nod your head, rubbing yourself against him. “Say it, babydoll.”

“Wants,” you whine, your head rolling to the side. Your eyes unfocused and Bucky immediately notices it. He stops the grinding of his hips, kissing your jaw, nose and forehead to sooth your whining. “Want you, Buck.”

“Shhhh, you can’t even focus on me, babydoll. As much as I want to make love to you or even fuck you into the mattress, but you can’t give me full consent.” Bucky says softly, his lips trailing softly along your soft skin. You whimper, pushing your hips up to get some friction but Bucky pins your waist down with his hands and shakes his head softly.

“But ‘m your girl, Buck.” You whine, your voice slurring and you try to focus on your boyfriend but somehow the haze in your mind clouds everything. You’re way too drunk. Your fingers still tangled in Bucky’s hair when you pull him closer to your, connecting both of your lips.

“I know you’re my girl. And it makes me the happiest man,” he assures you, pecking your lips. “I won’t use you being drunk to my advantage. You’re my girl and that makes me responsible for you, so no naughty, funny business tonight, pretty girl.”

You pout but don’t discuss with him, Bucky takes off your dress, followed by his clothes before he tugs the two of you into bed. His arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you close against his warm, muscular body.

“In the morning we can do all the funny business my girl desires. I love you, babydoll,” he hums, kissing your forehead while you curl into his chest, sighing softly. Bucky smiles softly when you press your lips against his chest. His heart beating softly against his ribcage, allowing you to drift off to sleep in the warmth of your boyfriend’s embrace.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @rnurse-kole @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @alexxavicry @gremlin-girly @grilledcheesewithjalapeno @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @irisk12 @lilyalone @iris-xoxo-juhu @fckedupandbeautiful @hisredheadedgoddess28 @princesscore-angel @casa-boiardi @blackhawkfanatic @mrsalexstan @thesarcasmqueen-22 @bamitzzsam @feynightlight @ethanhoewke @kandis-mom @peachy-satan00 @armystay89 @queen-honeybee-stories @p1nkgirly333

[monstersandgenderqueers]

Little Gifts (Part Two)

So the first gift didn't work. You cross your fingers and hope for the best with the second gift, your heart aching as you wonder if Loki's dislike for you is personal or if he just really, really hates gifts.

Pairing: Loki x neurodivergent!reader (he/him and she/her for Loki in this chapter)

Word count: 2419

Previous | Masterlist

A/N: I couldn't sleep last night because of this. Oof. Anyways...

Divider credit @/saradika

You don't have to wait very long before finding out whether Loki accepted your gift or not.

After opening all of your curtains, you're briefly disappointed to see dark clouds looming heavily over the compound. The feeling goes away quickly, though, in favor of thoughts of spending the day inside to catch up on all that you'd neglected the day before. You get dressed into something decent and comfortable and walk to the kitchen, with a spring in your step.

Sitting between you and your coffee is Loki. He has his legs crossed and a whole pot of tea on the table beside him, with a steaming mug in one hand and a book, your book, in the other.

Based on his progress, he must've been reading for hours already. That giddy feeling bubbles up again, and you clench your fists to restrain the urge to flap your hands like a little bird trying to fly away for the very first time.

You fail to hold back the slight whine, which alerts him to your presence.

"Is something the matter?" he asks, his brows scrunched and raised in the way that sends a fresh wave of fluttery feelings. He waits patiently for your answer, staring at you in a way that's softer than his usual glares.

"Uhm… no, not really," you quietly reply, fidgeting with your hands to redirect the urge to stim.

"Are you certain? You are usually asleep at this hour."

You glance at the kitschy clock just above the espresso machine. It is indeed early, only half past six. "Oh… I didn't notice." Maybe that's why it seemed so dark when you woke up…

Wait, he notices when I usually wake up?

He interrupts your thinking, "Having trouble staying asleep?"

"Yeah, I guess so," you want to say more, much more, but the words in your head are all tangled up, and the way he looks at you is making it much, much worse. You clear your throat and make your coffee, trying to ignore the new weird feeling that pops up when he turns in his seat to watch you. It's tingly and warm.

You try your hand at small talk. "So… uhm… what are you reading?" you ask, as if you don't know.

"A fantasy novel," he briefly looks at the cover, "a gift from a secret admirer, it seems."

"A-admirer?"

Oh no… does he think I have a crush on him? I don't, obviously, so I can't let him think that…

He continues, "Yes, an admirer. I cannot imagine anyone purposefully giving me something with such precious thoughts engraved inside, unless they craved intellectual intimacy."

Your brain stops for a second. Can he hear your heart stutter?

Drat, I should've just gotten him a new copy. I thought it would be nice to give him one with all of my ideas, it'd be really nice to hear his, too…

What the heck is intellectual intimacy?

However, you can't deny how the warmth gets more intense the more you think about Loki touching the book you held so dearly before, and him reading what is essentially a diary embedded between the lines of a story.

Unfortunately for you, the feeling doesn't feel the same as embarrassment. It's… familiar, but so uncommon that you can't name it.

He chuckles quietly behind you, making your ears heat up faster than the water in the Keurig. 

You're not brave enough to turn around yet, but you find the will to string together a sentence. "Do you like the book so far?"

The chair creaks as he shifts his weight. You turn to look at him, as is polite when talking with someone, but you whip your head back around when you see him staring at you.

The brief glimpse you got was enough. He must've done something different with his hair… you swear it didn't use to look so long and curly and luxurious. It falls over his shoulders and down his chest elegantly, shiny against the black knit sweater he's wearing.

He's so pretty.

You squeak as if startled by your own thoughts, and realize you had been so absorbed in the way he looks that you didn't notice him speaking.

"...thoughts are quite humorous and stimulating."

You grab your coffee and hold the mug in your hands close to your chest, almost like a shield that prevents him from seeing how hard your heart beats in your chest.

"Hm? Whose thoughts?"

"The person who wrote in this book. I am unsure whether it is actually the person who gave it to me, though, since the Captain made me aware of 'secondhand' bookshops not too long ago. I doubt a book like this could be sold, though, which leads me back to the theory of a secret admirer," he says slowly and clearly, almost like he wants you to understand something that he did not say.

Hm. You don't remember writing anything particularly funny. Most of your notations were related to other things you had read, making connections that helped you remember the story as you read it. History and mythology, mostly, and sometimes your own experiences.

Oh. Is he making fun of me? Are my ideas silly? Giving that book to him was a bad idea. I'm so dumb.

You look at everything but him as you respond, "Oh. Okay. Uhm… good luck? I think I'll just go back to my room…" You hope that was the right thing to say, enough to dismiss what he could potentially be implying.

You see his disappointment for a brief moment before you walk swiftly out of the kitchen and away from him, holding the mug tightly even though it's getting far too hot for your hands.

Several days pass before you're strong enough to stay in the same vicinity as Loki. You try to make it not obvious, like quickly grabbing something from the kitchen and leaving, if he was there, or pretending you forgot you had a meeting in a few minutes if he sat down on the sofa you frequently lounge on. Your hard work paid off—he doesn't stare at you so intensely anymore.

Your luck had to run out sometime, though. The moment you step outside, ready to go for a jog, Thor calls out your name and waves you over to where he's standing with Loki. "Come! We're going into town!"

"But I'm—"

"Ah, but you promised!" he says, still smiling. He pats Loki a bit hard on the back, "my brother could use some time away from the compound." Loki glares at him, but Thor continues, "he's been moping around the last few days. Come along?"

He phrased it like a question, but you know Thor would find some way to drag you along. "Uhm… okay. Just let me get something nicer to wear—"

"Nonsense! What you're wearing is fine." Thor nudges Loki again, prompting him to say something.

Loki looks you up and down before he replies monotonously, "Yes. You look fine." Some of the edge in his features leaves, the sharpness of his jawline softening ever so slightly.

You know you don't have your wallet, just your phone and earbuds, but maybe that'll be enough for whatever the brothers have planned. "Okay, then."

Moments later, a black car pulls up. Thor glances at Loki and then takes his seat next to the driver. Loki rolls his eyes, looking peeved at something that Thor did that you didn't quite catch.

He opens the car door for you, making you hesitate before you step in and buckle up. "Than—" he slams the door shut before you can finish, walking around to open the opposite door and take his seat. Thor laughs very quietly, but you hear it anyway, wondering what's so amusing.

Although the car is definitely big enough for two adults to sit comfortably in the back seat, you can still feel his presence. Being so near to Loki makes the hairs on your arms raise, though it isn't unpleasant. It feels closer to the warm tingly sensation you've started to have whenever you're near him.

Don't think about it. Maybe it'll go away? Like dizziness?

Loki stares out the window the entire ride to town, speaking only short, clipped sentences when responding to Thor.

You don't really pay attention to their conversation, your own thoughts proving to be quite a distraction.

Why do I feel the same around Loki as I did around my crush in high school? I felt all warm and tingly and giddy when he sat next to me in class, like—

Oh. Well, that explains a lot, doesn't it? This realization makes the remainder of the car ride far worse than when it started. Each mile feels like it takes eons to cover, and you're more aware of Loki than you ever were before. 

He shifts his hips slightly to get more comfortable, and it makes your heart jolt and your eyes dart over. His hands are folded on his lap, and you admire the shape of them before you catch Thor staring at you, twisted in his seat with a cheshire-like grin. You look away, heat crawling up your neck and your cheeks. You sink deeper into your seat, and hope that Thor isn't a mindreader. Or Loki, for that matter.

You step out of the car and wait next to Thor for Loki. Looking over, you're startled to see a woman stepping out of the car in Loki's place. You glance at Thor, and he doesn't seem phased whatsoever.

Oh. It's just Loki.

Whether Loki's shifted to remain undisturbed while out in public, or for gender expression, you keep quiet and give Loki a tiny little smile.

"Come along little mortal, sister," Thor says, leading the way. You trail behind the siblings, starting to realize that Thor is up to something. His hushed whispers in Loki's direction and his indiscreet backwards glances towards you are enough to tip you off.

After a few blocks of walking around the downtown area, Thor finds a bench under the shade of an oak tree, and sits with his arms across the top.

"Uhm… is this where we're supposed to be going? I thought it was, like, a shopping trip…" you say, wringing your hands.

"Ah, yes. I thought you could show Loki around the bookshops here. She finished a novel this morning and lamented her boredom and frustration. An intrepid reader like yourself should be able to find something for Loki to devour."

Something about the way he phrased it makes your heart race. "Yeah, sure…"

You meander to the store you've been to dozens of times already, looking back a couple of times to make sure that Loki is following you. She is, quickly glancing away from you whenever you turn.

The doors to the store swing open as a couple walks out. They smile at you and Loki as the two of you walk inside. You try to smile back, but it looks more like a grimace. Loki must've noticed, because she suddenly appears mirthful.

"So… what books are you looking for?"

She came prepared. Pulling out a list from her pocket, she hands it to you. "Do you think they'll have any of these here?"

You look down and read her elegant scrawl, recognizing each and every title. It's a list of books you had cited in your many written ramblings in the book you gave her. "Oh… I'm not sure if they'll have these exact books, but—"

She lets out a great, dramatic sigh and tears the list from your hand. "I knew this was a silly idea," she says under her breath, tucking a raven curl behind her ear. Making brief eye contact with you, she draws together her brows in the way that makes your stomach flip each and every time.

"We can still look. I don't mind," you say, already heading towards the mythology section. Since she still has the list, and you can't quite remember the authors, you let her look over the endless rows of books. You do some browsing of your own, but for your own new interests. You pick up a couple of books, but then your mind switches gears.

Standing next to her, you get her attention with a tiny uhm, "May I ask you a personal question?"

She nods, her fingers briefly trailing the length of a book's spine in a very distracting way.

"So…" you pause, thinking of how to phrase this. "Since Thor's been calling you his sister, does that mean you feel that way today?"

Her icy eyes meet yours. This time, you don't look away. Her gaze feels warmer than usual, though they're still sharp and calculating.

"Yes," she replies shortly, as if she's unsure of your intentions.

"Oh. Okay. Just wondering. You're very lucky, I think."

She does the brow thing again. "Lucky? In what way?"

"You can just… be yourself. Whenever you want."

She looks like she wants to refute your statement, but she says instead, "Are you not?"

"Not really, no. I mean, lots of people can just be themselves, but not just on a whim or anything…"

Your mind wanders, thinking of the piercings and tattoos and other, more body-altering modifications you've seen or wanted for yourself. You must've been thinking for quite a long time, because Loki clears her throat and taps your shoulder.

"Going off on a tangent in your mind, again?"

"Huh? Oh… sorry."

"It's quite alright, little one. The face you make when you're thinking so deeply is quite endearing."

Before you can even begin to process what she just said, she's already around the corner, a stack of books in her arms as she presumably walks to the register. It takes another second or two to realize the books you were looking at were no longer in your hands.

You catch up to her just as she's paying for the books. "You don't have to get those…"

"Nonsense, dear. Besides, you forgot your wallet again, correct?"

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting to—again? How often do I forget my wallet?"

"Quite often, sweetheart. I've witnessed you run back inside the compound all the way to your room to retrieve it on plenty of occasions."

The fluttery feeling is back, soaring up up up and making your heart skip quite a few beats.

She looks at you like she knows something you don't as she pays for the books.

"Come, little one. Thor's waiting."

[maeintree]

for the children | l. laufeyson

Summary: In a cold, distant marriage of duty, you long for connection, but Loki remains emotionally absent. When you ask why he stays, his answer—"For the children"—shatters the last of your hope. Pairing: husband!Loki Laufeyson x wife!fem!Reader Word Count: -800 Author's Note: yippie! my first loki fic, sorry this is really short; plus this is my first time writing for him! hope you enjoy. might make a series out of this.

The halls of the palace were quiet at this hour, bathed in the golden glow of lanterns. You stood by the window, staring out at the vast city below, your fingers lightly tracing the cool glass. The bed behind you remained untouched. Sleep rarely found you these nights.

Loki was out—again. You had stopped asking where he went long ago.

The door creaked open behind you, and your heart leapt in foolish hope before your mind reminded you not to be so naive.

"You should be asleep," Loki's voice was smooth, unreadable as always.

You turned, taking in the sight of him. His black and gold attire was slightly disheveled, as though he had just returned from a long night. He looked at you, eyes flickering with something unreadable before he sighed and stepped further into the room.

"I could say the same to you," you replied, trying to keep your voice light.

He didn’t answer, only pulling off his leather gloves before setting them aside.

There was a time when you would have asked him where he had been. A time when you still believed you could close the distance between you. But those days had passed.

Instead, you turned back to the window. "The children asked for you tonight."

Loki paused mid-motion, just for a second. Then he resumed unfastening his cloak. "I saw them before they went to bed."

"That was hours ago. They miss you, you know."

"They are children. They will always long for their parents." His tone was even, as if discussing a simple fact.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a smile. "Yes, I suppose they do."

A silence stretched between you, thick with words unsaid. Loki moved past you, reaching for a book on the desk.

"Why do you stay?" The question escaped before you could stop it.

He didn't look at you, fingers tightening slightly around the book’s spine. "For the children."

The words cut deeper than any blade.

You had known the answer, of course. But hearing it aloud—cold, final—made it so much worse.

You turned away fully this time, as if he could not see the pain written across your face if you simply refused to face him. "Right. Of course."

You told yourself you would not cry. Not again.

Behind you, Loki let out a slow breath. "You knew what this was."

"Did I?" you whispered.

Another silence. Then, softer, "Go to sleep."

He would not touch you. He never did.

You nodded absently and walked toward the bed. Not to sleep, but to pretend, just as you always had.

And Loki? He simply stayed in his chair, reading his book, never once looking your way.

Days passed in the same rhythm—nights spent in silence, mornings spent plastering on a smile for your children. They were your solace, the only true warmth in your life.

Loki was present in their lives, but only just. He played the role of father well enough, appearing when necessary, offering them fleeting moments of affection. But between you and him? There was nothing.

One evening, after dinner, the children had retired to bed, leaving you and Loki alone once more. You stood in the doorway of his study, watching him as he poured over a book.

"Do you ever regret this?" The words came before you could stop them.

Loki looked up, brow arching. "Regret what?"

"This. Us. The marriage. Everything."

A long silence stretched between you. Then, he set his book down and sighed. "Regret is a useless emotion."

"That’s not an answer."

He stood, walking toward you, his expression unreadable. "You want me to say I regret marrying you? That if given the choice, I would have walked away?"

Your heart clenched. "Would you have?"

His silence was answer enough.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stand tall. "I see."

Loki exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. "It was never your destiny to love me, nor was it ever expected."

"That’s the thing, Loki," you whispered, voice trembling. "I do. I love you. I have loved you for years. And it’s the cruelest thing in the world."

For once, he had nothing to say.

You turned to leave, but just as you reached the door, his voice—softer, almost pained—reached you. "I wish I could love you."

The door shut behind you before he could see the tears spilling down your cheeks.

And somewhere, deep in the shadows of his study, Loki stood alone, staring at the place where you had been, wondering why it hurt.

comments/likes/reposts are appreciatedd! hope youu enjoyed :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 15

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You find the kitchen. There’s a woman there. She looks just as surprised as you. 

You scuff to a stop across from her and give a toothy smile, “hi.” 

She hesitates, “good morning...” Her confusion nestles in her forehead. “Friend of Thor’s?” 

You think about it, “I know him. Sorta.” 

She pokes her tongue between her lips thoughtfully, “I’m not his wife. Yet. If you and him are... you know...” 

“Huh? Oh, no. No.” You show your palms. “That’s definitely not it. A friend of a friend, really.” 

“Ah,” she looks almost disappointed that you’re not sleeping with her ‘not husband yet’. “Oh, you must be one of the guests.” 

“I guess I would,” you nod. “I’m not tryna impose but do you have somewhere I can hide.” 

“Hide?” She echoes. 

“Um, I just need space. To think. You gotta know how it is. Right? Girl power?” You cringe. 

She snorts, “alright, I can find you somewhere, but you know, they don’t give up.” 

“They?” 

“The men. These type of men,” her tone turns dire. “You want some coffee? I just made a pot. Be nice to have. Alone.” She turns to open a cupboard, “At least, I imagine so.” 

“Sure, uh,” you sway and look over your shoulder. “My caffeine addiction is a bit of a bitch. Pardon my language.” 

She pours into a clear double-walled mug and nears. She wears a robe that’s too big for her. It must be Thor’s. Oh, you shouldn’t think too hard about that. 

“So, you’re with Rogers, was it? How long have you been together?” She hands over the mug and beckons you to another doorway. 

“Together? No, I work for him. I’m an accountant.” 

“Uh huh, he just brings his accountant everywhere?” 

“Well, he’s doing business with Thor, right? So I’m here to do numbers.” 

“Loki can do those and he doesn’t really seem like the type for teamwork,” she says. 

“Sure, uh, but... I don’t know.” 

“You like flowers? I think your best bet is the gazebo but I can always find some dark corner inside,” she says. 

“Oh, outside would be nice. Maybe the fresh air will help with the fainting.” 

“Fainting?” She wonders. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“If you say so,” she shrugs. 

“Oh, by the way, I’m Queenie. Obviously I’m... with Thor.” 

“Uh, yes, hi,” you introduce yourself in turn. 

“Out here,” she guides you through a back door and down a winding path. You marvel at the scenery. 

“Wow, this place is so amazing. You really live here?” 

“Sure do. At least I can appreciate the flowers,” she agrees. 

She doesn’t sound especially elated with her circumstance. You can relate to that. You come up next to her and balance your mug. 

“You know, he totally ruined my job.” 

“Hm?” She hums. 

“Steve. I was supposed to start a new one and he made me come here instead.” 

She takes you around to a gazebo and stops at the lower step, “these kinda men also don’t hear no, do they?” 

“Yeah, super annoying. Erm, thanks for the coffee. Sorry if I got in your way.” 

“Not at all. I’d love to stay and hide with you but... better if I don’t,” she glances toward the house. “If I see him, I never saw you.” 

“Thanks,” you blow out in relief. “I owe you.” 

“Nah,” she waves you off. “Girl power, right?” 

“Yessssss,” you grin. 

She turns and traipses away, in no hurry to get back to the house. You climb the steps, careful not to spill, and sit on the bench against the wall. The smell of pollen and leaves tickle your nose. It’s as calm as you’ve been in days. Weeks, even. 

As you ruminate with your coffee, you think about Queenie and what she said. How could she think you and Steve are together? From what you gather, he just broke up with someone. Peggy? You can’t keep track. 

You empty the mug and leave it on the bench. You watch the birds from between the vine canopy around the gazebo. The day shifts and your stomach stirs. You are hungry. 

You sit and take out your phone. Your battery is low. You should save it.  

You’re just so frustrated with everything. Not just Steve but yourself. What’s going on with you that you can’t stop passing out like some damsel in distress? I mean, he is scary but he hasn’t hurt you. Yet. 

Oh stop that! You’re just here to count. That’s your job. It’s the one thing you know how to do. 

You pace around restlessly. You can’t stay here forever. You know that the longer you do, the worse it will be. You’ll be awkward at best and he’ll be angry at most. But he deserves it! How can he just ruin your whole life because he wants to make some shady deal with a criminal like him? 

“So, you going to sleep out here or what?” Steve’s timbre makes you trip and you turn to face him. 

He stands at the bottom of the stares, arms crossed, jaw set. You can’t see all of him but he still looks massive. And dangerous. 

You glower and shake your head. You’re not ready. Yet, what choice do you have? You’re starting to understand those things Queenie said; or rather, didn’t say. 

“You’re just gonna give me the silent treatment, huh?” He climbs the stairs heavily so you flinch with each step. “I don’t get it. Got you nice clothes, took you on a nice trip...” You shake your head and angle so your shoulder is to him. “I been nice to you, sweetheart. It’s why I don’t get this fainting business. I haven’t been violent to anyone who didn’t deserve it.” 

You lower your chin and stare at your lap. The things you want to say might just earn his violence. So you’re better off to stay quiet. 

“We have an agreement. You gotta do the numbers,” he nears, a shadow mirroring your own. “So...” 

“I had an agreement with someone else!” You stand and stomp your foot. “I had a job, an apartment, I had--” You blink and gulp, filling your cheeks with air as you catch your exasperation. You back up and shake your head. “Sorry... no, I’m not sorry. But I am...” you gesture helplessly. “Why me? Why do I have to come here? I didn’t want to!” 

You dare to look at him. You can’t read his face. His eyes flick up and down. He pushes his jacket back and slides his hands in his pockets. 

“Cause I wanted you to.” 

“Because-- because—that's it? Because you felt like it?” 

His cheek dimples and he clicks your tongue, “are we being honest, right now? Is that what this is because you’re toeing a lot of lines, sweetheart.” 

Your lips thin and you hug yourself. “I guess.” 

“Alright, let’s be honest,” he steps closer and the back of your legs touch the bench behind you. “I think you’re cute. I like the way you get all wobbly-headed and I like catching you when you lose it. It’s fun.” 

“Fun?” You scoff. “It’s not--” you blink and shake off the ripple in your vision, “no...” 

“It’s gonna happen now, isn’t it?” His mouth slants. 

“No,” you argue and raise your hand, extending your arm to keep your balance. You reach behind you and slowly sit. “I’m not going to pass out.” 

“Oh, you’re not? Not knowing that I like to toy with you,” he gets even closer, bending to look you in the face. “That I’m not even close to done with you?” You inhale deeply as that woozy glaze fogs your head. His eyes are so blue, so bold. He grabs your chin. “That I’m gonna play with you until you’re broken and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.” 

You gurgle and latch onto his wrist. He chuckles as you try to pull him off of you, instead leaning into him as your brain speckles hotly. Oh no. Your lashes flutter and stick as he eases you forward. Your body slackens and you’re hurled into the blackness once more. 

[starpunkssgalaxy]

another sbg headcanons post 🤝

- ash will randomly get the shakes after everything that happened in the phantom dimension, if you look through her phone camera roll a lot of the pictures are blurry because she cant stop her hands from shaking

- ^ aiden lends her his rubix cube (other fidget toys) to try and help her calm down and give her something else to focus on

- taylor lovesss rollercoasters and will always drag tyler along, tyler isn’t terrified but they’re definitely not his favorite

- logan has a pair of converse that he needs to retire so bad, these shoes are hanging on by a thread its so bad 😭

- aiden can fall asleep anywhere, like tf are you doing in the sink??? (if he didnt have insomnia. we all seen those eyebags he dont sleep lol)

- ben is really quiet when he walks so sometimes he’ll just appear behind you and scare the shit out of you

- when the group needs bait/a distraction everyone always turns to tyler and taylor. they use the “get help” strategy, its usually tyler leaning on taylor like hes hurt and taylor screaming for help (guys say yk what im talking about 😔, thor and loki?)

- aiden trying to lighten the mood after being in the phantom dimension: so.. smash or pass?

everyone else: 😐

- aiden the type to tell the exact same story 15 times to the group forgetting hes already told them the story but they listen every single time too

- logan knows how to breakdance??? he just busted it out randomly one day and everyone was floored 😭💀

- when ben is mad/annoyed he does that thing cats do where he’ll just slowly slide something off a shelf or table onto the floor

- group went roller skating once and obviously ash was amazing at it, and ben, taylor, and logan were pretty good as well but meanwhile aiden and tyler were just either tripping eachother, holding on to eachother for support or dying laughing when one of them fell and ate shit

- in class they were assigned those fake babies you have to take care of, logan? amazing at it but was so tired afterwards. ben? pretty good but is a heavy sleeper so slept through the baby crying. taylor and tyler made a good team but tyler almost lost his mind when the baby would just non stop cry. ash evil eyed this thing the whole time, would carry it around by the head 😭 also had her headphones on 24/7 because she couldn’t stand the noise. aiden left his in the freezer, and then couldnt find it for days.

- ben is INCREDIBLE at carnival games, even the rigged ones. the people that own the game booths have genuine beef with ben lmaoo

[telvess]

RoR: How they sleep with their s/o (headcanons) 🔞

Jack

Jack likes when you’re strapped to his arm at night. He has a habit of reading a bit of Shakespeare before bed, so being close enough to him that he can smell your shampoo is actually one of his favourite moments of the day.

When the reading time is over, Jack prefers to lie face to face with you and hold hands. Of course, he doesn't mind any other position where he can observe you.

Yeah, Jack is a little creepy because he likes to watch you sleep. He admires your beauty and hearing your calm breathing makes him happy because he never expected to have someone who felt so safe around him.

Since he's the last one to fall asleep, you'll probably wake up first. Jack doesn't mind if you wake him up with kisses.

Poseidon

Poseidon allows you hug him. Feel grateful. He ONLY does it because you’re such a crybaby and he is tired of your big teary eyes you constantly make. He thinks that hugging is useless and doesn’t provide anything, but just for your sake he can get through this…

STFU, POSEIDON. You love cuddling.

He holds you in a tight hug, with his hand on your back and your head on his chest. He likes to feel your warm breath on his skin, but - once again - he would never admit it.

Poseidon has a cold body, so you can use it as an additional reason to cuddle.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub will go to bed the moment he hears you taking a shower before sleep. He doesn’t care if he has something to do. He doesn’t want to miss the opportunity for a cuddle.

Beelzebub is a small spoon. You hold him from behind with your arm around his waist and your forehead resting against his back - he just feels wanted and that feeling kills him.

That being said, he would never ask you for a cuddle, but if you don’t initiate, he gives you that inpatient look over a shoulder. Don’t act dumb.

Beelzebub likes to listens your calm breathing. For him it's the best lullaby. Knowing that someone shares something as trivial as sleeping in the same bed with him is amazing to him.

Thor

He is a living radiator, so you probably don’t need a blanket.

Thor isn’t into cuddling, but isn’t against it either. Definitely wouldn’t say no to you. The important thing to mention is that Thor thinks cuddling is a good introduction to sex.

He prefers to lie on his back and have you on his chest. Considering how big Thor is, you'll feel so small when his arms wrap around you. He likes to touch your thighs and buttocks and kiss your forehead, so if you decide to return the favour and caress his face or muscular chest… you definitely won't fall asleep quickly.

Buddha

That guy is such a mess.

He will elbow and knee you in his sleep. I don’t think rolling him over would give you any good result. He is a heavy sleeper, so he'll probably return to his previous position in a moment.

Maybe he'll calm down a bit if you kick him. But please, play dumb when he wakes up in the morning and ask you where he got that bruise.

Apart from the disadvantages of sleeping with him, Buddha is really cute when it comes to cuddling. He treats you like his personal pillow, wrapping his legs and arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You have to feed him in that position.

Loki

Sleeping with Loki is like sleeping with dozen cats.

Once you announce you’re tired and close your eyes, Loki’s intrusive thoughts will win. He will blow in your face and when you shout at him he will pretend to sleep.

Go on, roll over. How naive of you… Loki will start pinching your ass. Or steal a blanket just for himself. Or tickle you. Anything to keep you awake.

Yes, at this point you know that shouting at him only encourages him. You have to tire him out. And at this time of day, there's only one thing you can do to achieve it. Have fun.

Hades

How comfortable his muscular arms are around you…

Hades just gives these big protection vibes, so there’s no way he wouldn’t be a big spoon. He wants to hold you close, bury his nose in your hair and gives you few kisses here and there.

He can't sleep alone anymore since you two shared a bed together. Your company makes huge difference to him. He likes talk to you before sleep, whispers sweet things in your ear or tells you stories.

It happens that our king talks in his sleep. Of course, in the morning he denies everything because he knows he doesn't do it.

[fun-k-board]

hii merry christmas! :3

may I request hybrid!cat reader with loki? (if you feel comfortable writing abt hybrids if not, just a reader who has feline like qualities and abilities)

I can just imagine them as cats curled up snuggling and purring it won't leave my mind

if you need more clarification or details feel free to ask but I don't mind if you don't wanna do this request 🫶

have a happy new year and a good day/night!

MARVEL RIVALS - LOKI LAUFEYSON With a Cat Hybrid Reader

Note(s): Merry Christmas to you too and a happy new year! Even if I'm a little late to respond aha, much love to you anon for being my first Marvel Rivals request <3 I'm assuming you mean a reader who can transform into a cat, so that's what I wrote for. I had already begun writing before I could ask questions so I'm sorry if that's not accurate.

He's either such an asshole about it (affectionate), or surprisingly adorable.

If you transform around the house daily, even without him present, he has a nasty habit of just waltzing up to you and picking you up. Whether he then sits down with you on his lap, or simply does it to torment you changes with his mood. One second he's calling you a stupid animal, the next an adorable animal, and then he's practically unintelligible while praising you on his lap.

The two of you love to transform into cats and curl up next to a fireplace. Loki has found he feels more pliable and calm when in a cats body, although he doesn't like anybody but you touching him. Especially not petting him. The two of you have placed small cat beds all over your house, so the both of you can transform and then lay down and relax.

Speaking of, I think Loki would be some kind of a large, skinny shorthair cat. He'd be the kind of cat who looks really ominous and who you confuse for a piece of clothing in the dark, so there's a bit of silliness. Not to mention how, if you're in a humanoid form, he goes out of his way to try and torment you. Scratching and biting your ankles, stealing your food, he's a nightmare.

I do think that at least partly, you two can understand one another in cat form based primarily on body language and sometimes a vocal response, like hissing or meowing. Something Loki loves to do when you're both cats is randomly hit you out of nowhere, his slick black paw just baps you and then he's completely gone.

Loki's favourite pastime, even more than cuddling next to a fireplace, is to have you transformed and sat in his lap sleeping while he reads a good book. His fingers glide over your fur, scratching behind your ears, and sometimes he may even put the book down to coo at you for a few minutes.

I believe he would only allow you to put him in your lap or pick him up in cat form if you tell him it's because you want to appreciate and worship him, otherwise he feels it's insulting. If you praise him while doing it then absolutely feel free, carry him around, place him in your lap, you can even ask him to transform into his cat form just to do it and he will. But you must make him feel loved. Don't expect to start a task when you've begun loving him or he hisses and bites and scratches. Pay full attention to him and only him.

He's always joking that you need a bell collar, not exactly in a completely flirty way, more so in a majority demeaning and slight hint of flirty way. Especially if you're a more quiet person, he says it's so he can make sure where you are so you don't sneak up on him. If you think that's too far, he will stop, but don't expect his condescending nature to go away. That will never happen.

If your feline qualities happen to extend to things like being attracted to laser pointers, even while in a more humanoid form, he will absolutely use that to his advantage. Loki refuses to be anything less than obnoxious about it, he will use his powers to create a small point of light to attract your gaze, adoring the way your eyes go wide and follow it as if your life depends on it.

If you're weak willed, he will make you chase it by moving it around, cooing at how cute you are all the while. Of course this gets embarrassing and old fast, so you'd better develop some kind of residence to the cursed laser pointer.

Despite his teasing and mischievous nature, Loki helps you keep your fur well groomed. In his own way. He definitely knows how to take care of any type of hair, even animal kinds, and how to make sure they're shiny and soft and strong. But don't ever think that he'd get his hands dirty cleaning you himself. You, yourself, will do that, or he can get somebody else to. He, however, will not lifting a finger.

Hypocritically, he expects you to take care of him in cat form, and sometimes his Asgardian form, too.

"Come here." Loki purrs, coaxing you over with a single, curled finger, his lips twisted into that signature grin of his. But, whether you obey or not, he's the one who closes the distance, he's the one who kneels down to reach your height and holds a hand to your ear, poking one of them. It's an annoying feeling, there's nothing nice about being poked, especially when he does that with such an annoying look on his face. "They're a little awkward looking, aren't they?" He hums, chuckling at your huffed look.

Slightly confused, you meow, what would be a cute sound to anybody else Loki knows is you inquiring about the sudden interest in your feline features. You've had them ever since you've known him after all. But, he simply flicks you on the forehead. "Don't question me, mortal."

[angelremnants]

Between Strength & Style l L. Laufeyson

PART THREE.⠀....THE RESTRAINTS TURN TO RUINS.

summary : Loki’s probationary stint with the Avengers takes a surprising turn when Thor insists on dragging him to the team’s fluorescent-lit gym—a place he deems far beneath his dignity. His disdain shifts the moment you stride in with effortless confidence, transforming the mundane gym into your personal runway, commanding the room and worse, directly challenging his ego. Determined not to be overshadowed, Loki initiated a playful competition, vying to outshine you as the gym’s reigning fashionista. Yet, what began as irritation soon evolved into intrigue—and an electric chemistry taking place between you and forcing him to confront not only your undeniable allure but also his own battle for self-control. The only question left was: how many Fridays would pass before one of you finally caves in?

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : Mature themes (18+—MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), eventual romance, resolved sexual tension (finally!), kind of dub-con but also not?, love/hate sex, rough sex, dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, cum eating, shower sex, risky sex, power play, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it before you tap it!), implied oral sex (female receiving), creampie, hard dom!Loki/sub!reader, lots of heavy dirty talking, praise/degradation kink, hand gagging, flirting & teasing, emotional conflict, aftercare, strong language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 27.8k

author's notes : My sincere apologies for the tardiness of the upload, uni started back a few days ago and I had, for some reason, quite some difficulty crafting this chapter—which is by far the filthiest smut I've ever written until now and possibly the longest, as I had to make up for the wait. Here is the long-awaited climax (no, really) of this three-shots. I'm pleased to see that this story was so well-received, as it was really written on impulse.

Make sure to read the first two parts if you haven't done it yet, not just for the context but also because the build-up makes it so much more worth it. ;)

(ao3 version)

⠀

Saturday. It ought to have been your haven—a priceless, untouchable day dedicated to rest. A day set aside for relief—a unique, treasured chance to relax, get some much-needed sleep or even enjoy a few blissful hours of inactivity. Maybe you would have gotten the sleep you had been missing all these days due to some godly parasite lingering inside of your head, or you would have spent a few hours of delightful indolence watching your favorite shows in the comfort of your cozy bed. Instead, like a prisoner heading to their execution, you found yourself stumbling toward the gym in the early hours of the following day, each step laden with fear.

And it was all become of him.

One month. It had been thirty maddening days since Loki had chosen to make you the center of his entertainment, enticing you into his intricate little game of battling for the spotlight and disrupting your carefully crafted lifestyle. You hadn't been offered the chance to decline or be offered a volunteer position. In fact, you didn't even know there was a game until he walked into the gym that fateful morning with his trademark arrogant smile, his piercing eyes, and his incredibly sharp tongue that seemed to be designed specifically to rile you up, strutting around like some arrogant peacock and prompting in you the burning sensation of desperately wanting to put him back in his place. It was as if he had come in with the express intent of making you lose your mind, and ever since, he had made it his goal to constantly torture, mock, and irritate you.

You thought you had done a great job of pretending it didn't bother you. It had all been part of your improvised plan to keep some semblance of sanity, brushing off his scathing remarks and acting as though you were unaware of the way his gaze lingered just a bit too long whenever he peered in your direction. However, the reality was that Loki had a strange way of getting under your skin, digging deep, and burning it like no one else ever could, ultimately making you enter many weekly rounds of push and pull and leaving the unforeseen public wanting more in their bets on which of the two would finally crack from their infantile provocations. 

The culmination of it all had been the previous day. You had completely failed to fall asleep, your heart still pounding with adrenaline, and your restless mind replaying over and over your last encounter with him. It was simply another verbal sparring match, a battle of glares and scathing retorts, nothing extraordinary. The shared spark hovering on the verge of burning was the only extra taste. It was enough to set your entire body on fire when he brashly pushed you against the shake bar counter and smiled menacingly, promising to ruin you in the finest way possible. Although it didn't completely rock your world, it certainly did cause your ovaries to tremble, which fueled the restless energy that had persisted in you ever since.

Hours passed slowly and you were still staring at the ceiling, scrutinizing any specks on it while attempting to interpret his final words when the first rays of sunlight came through your window. "When I settle things, I make sure it’s unforgettable." What on Earth had he meant by that? And more significantly, what fresh torment had he in store for you?

The questions flitted through your head like vultures as you dressed, putting on bras sports, a basic tank top and leggings with weak motions and a tired sigh—you didn’t feel the need to go all out for this morning, as you would be practically caged with your sworn attention-hungry enemy. Your body felt slow and fatigued, but your mind was racing at full speed. A part of you wanted to march into that gym and slam his smirk-adorned pretty face against the nearest wall until it was unrecognizable. Another part... well, you didn’t want to think about what the other part of you wanted. 

You pushed the treacherous thoughts away as you finished lacing your sneakers and turned to face the mirror, giving yourself a stern, no-nonsense look. “Get. it. together,” you muttered, insisting on each word that was coming out as much as a plea as it was an order.

Desperate to shake off the grogginess—and the simmering frustration—you bounced on your toes a few times, throwing a few half-hearted shadow punches. Some quick jumps, fists raised and throwing jabs here and there and a sharp exhale. The motion sent a small jolt of energy through your muscles, enough to strengthen your resolve, but it did little to alleviate the knot of apprehension that was tightly wound in your chest.

Whatever the god had planned, you promised yourself you would not let him get the best of you. Not this time, not ever, and not anymore.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly walked out of your room, your footsteps echoing off the walls as you made your way to the gym. The overhead fluorescent lights flickered intermittently, casting long, shifting shadows that added to your sense of foreboding. The closer you got, the heavier each step felt, as if the weight of expectation was dragging you down. 

The gym loomed ahead, having evolved into something more than just a room full of machines. It was a battleground, a crucible. Loki seemed so determined to push you to your limits, testing your patience, strength, and willpower with each encounter. You could not decide which bothered you more: the fear of losing control in his presence or the nagging suspicion that he was purposefully trying to break you to see how far he could go. Upper motives are Loki's specialty, after all. But, on the other hand, was this really just a game for him?

At last, you reached your destination, staying still in front of the entrance. Your fingers curled around the handle, allowing the cool metal to ground you for a moment while you paused, your pulse quickening as a dozen different scenarios raced through your head.

Was this your doom or your solace? And which one did you hope to find today?

You didn’t know. But as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, you braced yourself for whatever Loki had planned for you.

Surprisingly, it was already slightly ajar when you arrived, allowing just a sliver of light to pass through. The first rays of the rising sun spilled in, casting a soft, golden glow across the immaculate gym floor, which had been completely cleared of the chaos left by the Hulk's rampage. The sunbeams pierced through the towering windows, their warm light reaching all corners of the gym and illuminating the grandeur of Manhattan beyond—a city still waking up, its skyline bathed in the soft hues of dawn, almost as if holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come.

But it was not the breathtaking scenery that halted you in your tracks. 

No. What really drew your attention, leaving you momentarily speechless, was the sight of Loki. There he was, in the middle of it all, surprisingly barefoot. His form stood in stark contrast against the polished surroundings, like a shadow amidst the brilliance. The god of mischief was leaning against the cracked wall, his fingers moving with effortless precision over the remaining damage, the last traces of destruction fading beneath his fingertips. The ground had been thoroughly cleaned up, free of any debris from the mutant's rampage, so you did not have to worry about him injuring himself—not that you would be concerned anyway. 

The air around him buzzed with magical remnants that seemed to belong there, blending in with the repairs he was doing. His posture was lazy and languid, as if he were bored with the task at hand, and repairing a wall was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

It irked you more than you cared to admit.

Despite his outward calm, a familiar knot twisted in your chest—a mix of irritation, resentment, and, for reasons you could not fathom, bubbling excitement. The same sensation that seemed to arise whenever Loki was nearby—a dangerous combination that you were all too familiar with.

And yet, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. It was as if you hadn’t walked in at all.

You stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. There he was, the god who had turned your world upside down, with his back turned to you. You couldn’t decide whether to wait and see if his ever-annoying smirk would appear or if he would look at you with that cold, calculating stare he wore when sent out on missions, which always made your skin prickle.

A moment stretched. Then—

"Late as usual," Loki's voice broke the silence, smooth and taunting as always, his gaze fixed on his work.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Here it is, you bitterly thought as you deeply inhaled, bracing yourself for what was coming next.

“I’m sorry, was I supposed to be impressed?” You retorted, stepping deeper into the room, sarcasm laced throughout your words. “You’re fixing a wall, not saving the world. Do you want me to give you a standing ovation?”

He let out a soft, almost bored sigh and continued to work as if your words did not bother him. "And good morrow to you as well. The first rays appear, and you are already up and taunting me. But I suppose that is part of your appeal, is it not?"

You moved around the room, your gaze scanning the gym. It was still a mess in places, but nothing you could not handle with a little effort—and probably Loki's self-assured arrogance as well. If you weren’t any pettier, you would be surprisingly grateful towards him doing most of the hard job—which is saying something, coming from Loki himself. Perhaps your worries weren’t misplaced, after all—as far as you knew, the god never did anything out of the kindness of his heart. 

“Don’t flatter yourself. Honestly, I have seen better magic tricks in street performances," you replied, your voice light but your irritation simmering beneath the surface. You focused your attention on the task at hand, preparing for the impending manual labor.

But your treacherous gaze quickly returned to him, still bathed in sunlight as he worked to complete the repairs. The golden light illuminated the muscular expanse of his back, accentuating every ridge and dip with almost agonizing clarity. Each movement was a seamless display of strength and precision, the sinews of his shoulders rolling effortlessly beneath his skin. A faint sheen clung to his torso, highlighting the sharp lines that drew the eye down the length of his spine.

Your eyes then lowered unwantedly, drawn to the way his trousers hugged his figure, especially the firm curve of his ass. The fabric clung in a way that left little to the imagination, draping over him with an almost sculptural elegance. Each subtle shift of his weight made the material stretch and conform, as though emphasizing every detail of his form.

Your cheeks flushed as your imagination deceived you, racing with uncontrollable thoughts of how you wanted to explore that body. You were split between silent adoration and an almost painful need to close the gap between you. The silence weighed down hard, interrupted only by the faint hum of his power. There was an electric tension in the air, thick enough to taste, as if something was going to snap. Perhaps another volley of sharp words—or something more physical.

Loki gradually stepped aside from his work, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. His lips curled into an irritating, all-knowing smirk. “Are you finished inspecting my masterpiece, or do you plan to continue judging my artwork?” he asked, his tone almost playful, yet it carried a challenge beneath it.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the pointless instigation. “Oh, I’m sure it’s magnificent, Loki. Just like everything you touch," you sarcastically said, your tone basking in mockery.

His smirk unfortunately only deepened at your retort, a glint of mischief sparking in his eyes. “Do you always arm yourself with such wit before breakfast, or am I to feel especially privileged today?” He teased, his gaze lingering on you for just a little too long, never leaving yours.

It was tempting to fire back, to throw another retort his way, but you forced yourself to bite your tongue. You had a task at hand, and you were damn well going to finish it—no matter how insufferable Loki was being.

With a deep breath, you set aside your irritation. “Fine, let’s just get this over with. "The sooner it is finished, the sooner I can leave your delightful company," you muttered under your breath, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

Loki raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall, his lips curled into a lazy smirk as he crossed his arms. “My, such ambition. One might almost think you find my presence unbearable.”

You did not grace him with the privilege of an answer, instead reaching for a nearby broom and beginning to sweep up the last of the debris. Each step you took felt heavier than the previous one as you mentally prepared for the physical labor ahead. Whether it was the oppressive atmosphere or Loki's unyielding presence, you could not help but sense the tension building, hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

The only thing you were certain of?

Today was going to be longer than you anticipated.

After a while, you took a purposeful stride behind the bar, the motion almost automatic, deciding that a shake was exactly what you needed to boost your energy and, more importantly, to prepare yourself for the mental endurance you were sure this morning would require. The frustration from the previous few moments persisted beneath the surface, like an ember that refused to die. You forced yourself to concentrate on the simple task at hand: preparing your beverage. After all, getting through the rest of the day would require all of your strength and endurance, especially with the man in the background.

As you reached for the blender, his voice rang out behind you while he was seemingly approaching you, slow and taunting, as if he had all the time in the world. "I have already repaired the marble, you know. The only thing left to do is put the glasses away and clean the countertops. But, of course, you would rather stand there and make yourself a drink, would you not?"

You didn’t turn to face him, focusing instead on measuring the ingredients for your shake, with your back to him as you gathered your supplies. "I am making myself something to drink because I have not eaten yet," you answered with a clipped tone, revealing your growing irritation. “And trust me, I’m going to need it if I’m going to survive being in the same room as you.”

You could almost hear the smirk curling on his lips. He moved closer and titled his head over your shoulder, his voice dropping to a timbre of contempt. “A shake? How… pedestrian.” You sensed his obvious presence behind you, like a shadow too near for comfort. “If I were you, I’d be more concerned about what you really need.” 

His breath tickled the back of your neck as he leaned in, and his words sounded almost sensual. Your pulse quickened at the implication, and a flash of annoyance coursed through you. You couldn’t let him get under your skin—not this early at least. Taking a steadying breath, you returned your attention to the blender, attempting to ignore Loki's magnetic pull and the way he appeared to consume the space around him.

Then, just as you were about to finish blending your shake, Loki's voice dropped once more, this time with a sly, dangerous edge. “Do you think that shake will be enough to cool you off? Or would you rather I provide a more... appropriate remedy?”

Never mind him not getting under your skin—that pushed your patience over the edge.

Without hesitation, you grabbed the nearest glass of water, spun on your heel, and splashed it directly into his face. “How’s that for cooling off?” You returned with a strained smile, your words as sharp as your gaze, your chest rising and falling with the rage you could not control. You immediately spun away, determined to leave before your temper flared.

There was a brief period of silence. Loki stood perfectly still, his eyes closed since receiving the impromptu attack. He inhaled deeply as the magic around him crackled like a storm on the horizon, his irritation settled in the air, thick and heavy, like a warning. He slowly wiped the water off his face, his lips curling into that same infuriatingly composed smirk that made your blood boil.

"Fine," he finally said, his voice strained with barely contained irritation, though his smirk remained intact. “If this is the game you wish to play, so be it.”

He slowly peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside, taking you completely by surprise. The sight of his sculpted, damp chest was enough to send shivers up your spine. He did not seem to notice—or care, for that matter. Your stomach churned, and you immediately regretted throwing the water, especially since your gaze was drawn involuntarily to the muscle lines that rippled across his abdomen. Fuck. This wasn’t helping.

You could feel a flush creeping up your neck, but you quickly pushed the warmth away. You did not have time to get sucked into whatever game Loki was playing. If you wanted to get through today, you had to keep your cool.

"Whatever," you mumbled to yourself, taking a long, leisurely drink of your shake, as if it could somehow relieve the tension between you. The cool beverage flowed down your throat, yet the room was hot, the air thick with unspoken murmurs. It was going to be a long day. A very long day.

⠀

⠀

For an extended period, the two of you moved silently. It was as if you were in sync without saying anything, each of you was quietly immersed in your allotted job. You remained firmly rooted in your corner, concentrating solely on your task as a weird, even unsettling rhythm emerged between the two of you. The room, which had once been a chaotic mess after the Hulk's destruction, now appeared unsettlingly calm. You found yourself wishing for your headphones, something to drown out the oppressive silence, help you focus, and speed up the process. But with Loki there, you couldn't afford such a luxury—his mere existence made it impossible to escape into that peaceful seclusion.

The heavy sense of imminent peril lingered around you, like a weight suspended just above the earth, ready to fall. Loki, the deity of mischief and master of deception, has never been so silent before. His customary snark and demand for attention were strangely gone, and it was disturbing. It felt like a physical force weighing down on the room, choking you with its severity. He wasn't moving or looking at you, but you could sense him. His presence appeared to penetrate beneath your skin, a persistent, stifling awareness that hung over you like a shadow that refused to go away.

Even more unsettling was the fact that, despite all that had transpired, he wasn’t even looking directly at you—yet you were certain, without question, that his eyes were fixed on you and penetrating through the back of your head, even if they were out of sight. This unseen stare appeared to track your every action, causing your skin to tingle with a heightened sense of awareness, akin to a faint pressure that made it difficult to draw a breath.

Unavoidably, you found yourself matching his phantom gaze. Your vigilant eyes remained fixed on him, not merely out of wariness but also because you were unable to resist. It was unsettling how your mind wandered toward him in fundamentally inappropriate ways, particularly to his chest. That aggravating chest. Each time he shifted, it appeared to ripple, and you couldn’t pull your gaze away from the sleek, sculpted muscles that moved with effortless elegance. The arrogance that seemed to seep from him only exacerbated the situation, as he exuded an air of perfection, fully aware of the impact he had on you. And that drove you completely mad.

You despised the fact that you couldn't settle on a single opinion of him. A part of you wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Maybe even grope him to see how he reacts. Another, darker part of you wanted to lean in and lick, kiss, and feel the smoothness of his chest against your lips. Every part of you ached with the urge to claim him in some manner. But then you'd remember your current situation, the tension in the air, and the ridiculousness of it all. You couldn't let it. You could not allow those ideas to dominate you again.

It was nice that you had superhuman strength. Without it, you weren't sure how you'd get through moments like this—when your mind would wander into dangerous terrain, your body would betray you with a deep, frustrated need, and you'd most likely let a dumbbell drop from your fingers and land on your foot. Your strength kept you anchored, but it didn't alleviate the strain that coiled within you like a live wire, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else.

And, worst of all, you were furious. Furious with him for just existing and being so mesmerizing. Furious with the way he handled himself, the arrogance that radiated off him, and, damn it, his body. You were upset with yourself for allowing him to get under your skin and for the way he put your insides on fire. But, more than anything, you were enraged by how easily he had entangled your thoughts in his clutches, without ever lifting a finger. It was as if he didn't even have to try to get inside your thoughts, and yet here you were—lost in a maelstrom of frustration and need, entangled in the web he had spun around you with effortless grace.

You moved through your set, the rhythmic clang of metal filling the otherwise quiet room, breaking the stillness with every shift of the dumbbells. Each time you bent to pick one up, the sound reverberated in the large, nearly empty space. You made sure to place each weight back precisely where it belonged, your movements deliberate and controlled, your focus unwavering, even as the strain of the workout began to wear on you.

Yet, every time you turned away, something peculiar began to happen. A faint shift, just enough to unsettle your balance. The weights would move, imperceptibly, enough for you to notice but not quite enough to confirm at first. You'd look back, only to discover that one weight had shifted slightly, a minor tweak that seemed to challenge your every action. Initially, you put it on exhaustion, but as the strange happenings continued, your displeasure grew. It felt as if your mind was conspiring against you.

With each shift, your nerves strained, and unease crept up your spine. You couldn't escape the idea that you were losing control, that something—or someone—was interfering with your thoughts. "What the hell..." you muttered under your breath as you hefted another dumbbell into position, the metallic clang too loud in the otherwise silent room.

"Be careful," Loki said from the other side, his voice shrill and mocking. "Or you'll cause more of a ruckus than the green beast did." His words were delivered with that exacerbating air of superiority that made your blood boil even as you tightened your jaw to avoid snapping back. You could clearly feel how much he was loving it.

You gritted your teeth and concentrated on the task at hand, ignoring him as much as you could. "It's not my fault," you murmured back, your voice tinged with displeasure as you kneeled to pick up another weight. You needed to finish. You couldn't allow him to get under your skin, yet again.

Regardless, as you proceeded, the disturbing adjustments in the rack became more regular, with the weights moving gently every time you turned your back. Something was certainly off, and you could no longer pretend otherwise. The unease in the air, the sensation of eyes on you, and the bizarre, inexplicable shifts had all contributed to something more planned than just chance.

At long last, after completing the final set of weights and ensuring that everything was in its proper place, you turned away from the rack, ready to move on to the next part of the gym. You had your back to the rack when you heard the unmistakable crash of weights hitting the ground. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your mind raced as you spun around, your eyes narrowing in surprise.

The dumbbells were scattered across the floor. The revelation struck you like a ton of bricks—or dumbbells, in this context.

"Loki," you snarled, the name tumbling out of your mouth before you could control it. You pushed the rack aside, your wrath pouring over as you stormed towards him.

The aforementioned deity stood several feet away, watching you with an aggravating smile on his lips and an incredibly calm posture, as if he hadn't done anything wrong. There was something almost sickeningly pleasant about his apparent enjoyment of the turmoil he had produced, as if he were enjoying every ounce of your frustration. 

You crossed the gap between you without hesitation, taking hurried steps towards him. "What's your fucking problem?" you demanded, your hands curled tightly at your sides and your voice tinged with rage. "This is your doing, isn't it?"

The Asgardian's grin widened further, and he inclined his head slightly in fake inquiry. "Problem?" he repeated, a nasty gleam in his eyes. "I wasn't aware I had one." His comments hung in the air, acting as an open invitation to retaliate. He was testing you, pressing your buttons just for the fun of it.

"You've been messing with me this whole damn time!" You fired back, your rage escalating as your fury boiled over. "What exactly are you trying to prove?"

Loki leaned in slightly, his stare sharp and calculated, with a glimmer of threat in his eyes. "Easily distracted, are we?" he asked, his voice silky and full of challenge. "I thought that perhaps you simply needed something to... redirect your focus."

Every ounce of patience you had was slipping away, and your fury was simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to explode. You took a step closer, your resolve firm, ready to confront him full on and force him to account for his little game. But as you did, your foot got snagged on something—your own, traitorous shoelaces.

"What the—" you exclaimed, taken aback by the sudden loss of control. You lost your footing and stumbled forward, unable to break the momentum. Before you could recover, you collapsed to the floor, your hands just reaching out to catch yourself. As you scrambled to lift yourself up, your gaze fell on the source of your clumsiness: your shoelaces—both of them—tied together in a knot that was too perfect and exact to be an accident. 

Heat flooded your face, a blush of humiliation rising in your chest as you slowly stood, the weight of your embarrassment sinking in. "You... you little shit," you hissed, angry and mortified. You instantly tried to unravel the knot, but your rage just grew.

Loki's laughter rang around the room, a low chuckle that made your blood boil even more. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with almost predatory delight. He wasn't going to help you; it was evident he was enjoying every moment of your annoyance.

"Really?" you snapped, your expression tightening as you stared at him. "Tying my shoelaces? What are you, a child?"

His grin intensified, and his eyes shone with a lethal, mischievous light. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a taunting divulgence. "I thought I might remind you not to forget your place, darling."

The combination of fury and shame pushed you over the limit. "Try me, Loki. Just one more time, and I’ll make you regret it," you threatened, your fists clenched so hard that your knuckles became white, raw rage barely restrained beneath the surface.

Loki raised an eyebrow and smiled unwaveringly. "And what exactly do you plan to do?" he inquired, his tone challenging.

You seethed, torn between the overwhelming desire to strike out and the strange pull he always seemed to have over you. The air between you was heavy with tension, suffocating, and the more you looked at his infuriatingly handsome face, the more you couldn't decide whether to lash out with your fists, pull him in for a kiss, or do both in an explosive clash of vexation and longing.

You deeply inhaled, muttering hopeful prayers for peace and quiet while attempting to calm the maelstrom of emotions forming within you. The soreness persisted beneath your skin, although there was no immediate way to release it. His attention was riveted on you, and the thought of your next move formed in your mind and slowly brought a wicked smile to your lips. You knew just how to make him squirm, and you were confident you could send his mind racing just like yours was.

As you crouched to relace your shoes, you took a moment to fix your shirt. The fabric changed, adapting to your shape with subtle precision—just enough to draw his attention without being obvious. The way the cloth clung to your body felt like a challenge, inviting him to gaze. And you knew he wasn't going to refuse. His eyes, though well guarded, revealed the admiration he could not conceal. You felt a surge of satisfaction as you realized you had the ability to divert him however you wished him to be.

Your fingers worked carefully, lacing the shoes with calculated precision, ensuring that your actions were slow enough to keep him focused. You could feel his stare sharpen and his breath quicken, as if just seeing you was enough to divert his attention. You had him exactly where you wanted him: utterly trapped in a whirlwind of unwelcome cogitation.

Once finished, you stood with deliberate slowness, savoring the moment as you straightened your posture and brushed your shoulders with exaggerated care. You discreetly looked at him from behind your lashes, noticing the lingering heat in his eyes—a flash of doubt, that tiny break in his otherwise immaculate composure that made your approaching win all the sweeter.

And now, it was time to seal it.

With a quick, careful rotation, you spun on your heel, your action graceful and calculated. Your leg sprang out sharply, catching him squarely in the shin. The hit resonated, pushing Loki to stagger back, his beautiful stance breaking for a fleeting instant. His stance failed, and he went on one knee, his sharp inhale revealing his normal calm.

A flicker of disbelief crossed his features, revealing a rare, fleeting breach in his mask of supremacy. His palms braced on the floor as he straightened himself, his movements calm and measured, as if he refused to give you the pleasure of watching him rush.

You stood over him, chin lifted, admiring the unusual sight of Loki humbled low. Your lips formed a cynical smirk as you cocked your head, and your voice sickly sweet with deadly sarcasm. "Aw, look at you," you drawled, every word dripping with arrogance. "You wear that position nicely. Almost as if it's second nature."

His jaw tightened, the glitter in his eyes increasing as your words slithered into his ego and pricked old wounds. You leaned in slightly, your tone becoming softer and more venomous. "It’s almost like that match a few weeks ago… you remember, right? The one where you ended up in the exact same position. Thanks to me." You allowed a beat of stillness and the weight of your words. settling between you like a blade poised to strike.

For a brief instant, you noticed it—that frightening flare of fire beneath his cold, calculating eyes. His lips curled into a smile that did not extend to his eyes—a vicious and knowing twist that sent shivers down your spine. "Smug," he finally uttered, his voice silky yet twisted with tempered rage. "I suppose you're entitled to it for the right reasons."

The faintest emphasis on the final lines struck like a warning, a thread strained tight and about to snap. He straightened effortlessly, rising to his full height with startling ease. You were aware of the purposeful character of his movement, however. Loki didn't just stand there; he reclaimed the area, his presence becoming stronger with each step he took closer.

His gaze was fixed on yours, haughtily looking down as his countenance meticulously honed into that annoying mask of distant enjoyment. But the tension in the air was unmistakable, like an electric charge buzzing between you. "Careful now, darling," he whispered, his voice honeyed but tinged with a dangerous undercurrent. "You might start to believe you’ve truly bested me. A dangerous illusion, don’t you think?”

Your victory faded as his words set in, his mocking tone slithering around you like a serpent. Loki moved closer as you defensively crossed your arms and maintained his molten stare, his motions leisurely and predatory. He was now examining you, his eyes searching your every twitch and breath, as if he were recording this moment for future revenge.

"Victory," he said almost to himself, his smirk broadening when he noticed you tensing at his sudden closeness. "What an ephemeral thing, isn't it? So fragile, so easily reversed." His voice faded into a whisper that permeated the room. "Enjoy it while you can."

The oppressive atmosphere squeezed in, heavy and real. Loki's lack of retaliation was more troubling than any outburst, his quiet intensity serving as a clear reminder of how dangerous he was. He didn't have to lash out to make his presence known; his deliberate silence was far more effective. You attempted to maintain his look, to equal the boiling challenge in his eyes, but it was like staring into the depths of a venomous forest—lush and vibrant, yet steeped in danger, each glance pulling you deeper into its poisonous embrace. The corners of his mouth curved as if to guarantee that this moment would not go unanswered, and without saying anything else, he turned on his heel and marched away, as if nothing had conspired.

The room somehow felt colder without his presence, but the weight of his words hovered over you like a wildfire gradually rising your body. Loki usually never forgets or forgives, and you were confident that he would make sure you remembered this.

Shaking your head, you pushed those thoughts aside, determined not to let him get to you. You knew his games. This sudden shift in behavior—this silence—it was just another trick, another part of his elaborate act. But still, something was unsettling about it, something that gnawed at you. 

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to concentrate, your attention returning to the cable station. You moved with experienced ease, your hands painstakingly cleaning the area and your body nearly swaying in time with the task. Before you knew it, a gentle hum slid from your lips, providing a distraction and drowning out the electric tension crackling in the room. Even if it was only for a moment, the sound was relaxing.

But you couldn't shake the impression that Loki was watching again, lurking like a famished hawk and waiting—his eyes fastened on you with a weight that made you feel as if he could see straight through you. Even though you attempted to dismiss it, you knew he wasn't planning to let you go on unscathed. Definitely not.

That theory was proven correct when you found yourself falling once again.

Your foot got hooked on one of the cables that had been left lying around indiscriminately on the floor. Your body lurched forward, unbalanced, and the objects in your hands flew through the air. You gasped, prepared for the inevitable crash, but a strong arm wrapped around your waist and drew you back into a solid chest.

Your breath froze and your chest clenched as you processed the sudden and unexpected contact. You were overpowered by the perfume of mint and something more, which was unmistakably his. You stiffened in his arms, but he held you comfortably, his presence overwhelming and unsettling. The warmth of his chest pressing against your back, his breath soothing against your neck, and the steady rise and fall of his chest served as a painful reminder that he had been, once again, the one to catch you.

As he held you, you couldn't help but notice how well his body fit against yours. The way his frame fit against your back was both shocking and comfortable, as if every muscle and contour were designed to match yours. You could feel the tightness in his body, the hardness of his chest pressing against you, but there was an undeniable ease in the way he embraced you, his touch strangely possessive but comfortable. For a time, you were hesitant to release the hold, your heart speeding with the weird mix of emotions he elicited in you.

You blinked, attempting to get your bearings, your heart pounding in your chest. Every nerve in your body seemed to tingle with his touch, prompting a flood of emotions to flow within you—frustration, rage, and, screw him for this, desire. You tried to concentrate on the chaos beneath your feet, but everything about him—the way his body fitted into yours, the sensation of his arms about you—made it nearly hard to think properly.

Looking down, you noticed a cable wrapped around your foot. Your rage boiled up, your eyes glaring with irritability. But before you could draw a full breath, Loki's voice cut through the air. "Having trouble, darling?" He commented with a smirk on his lips. His taunting tone, combined with the ease with which he unraveled the cable, exacerbated your aggravation.

You clenched your jaw, attempting to keep your bearings as you watched him deftly mend the mess you had created. His arrogance was bothersome, but you couldn't deny that his charm still managed to make you squirm.

"Another tangled mess, I see," he remarked with delight. "I was starting to think we’d finally outgrown these little mishaps." He let the words linger, an amused gleam in his eyes. Then, almost as if he couldn't resist, he continued softly and teasingly, "But I should’ve known better—you do have a knack for falling for me."

The subtle suggestion of the infamous treadmill event sparked a surge of rage in your chest, and the room suddenly became unbearably hot. Your face flushed, heat crawled up your neck, and your hands clenched into fists by your sides. The recollection of that day came forward—sharp, searing, and persistent. It was the same thing: his words and actions distracted you and caused you to lose your footing. And as usual, just as you were about to fall, he came out with his arms wrapped around you, reminding you of your powerlessness.

"Why do you keep doing this?" You fumed, vehemently frustrated. "Every time, you find a new way to mess with me. Is this some sick joke to you?"

Loki's demeanor changed slightly, his smirk still curling at the corners of his lips, but it was colder and tinged with something sinister. His gaze tightened, locking onto yours with such intensity that the air between you felt dense and menacing. "A joke?" he reiterated, his voice falling to a frightening, even poisonous purr. “No, darling. This is not a joke." He took a hesitant stride toward you, the space between you sparking with tension, as if the air itself was charged with an unspoken promise. "It's a reminder that no matter how hard you try, you'll always wind up back here, tied up to me. In this. In us."

His words hung in the air like smoke, heavy and oppressive, with an undertone of insult and something darker—something primal. It caused your blood to rush, a heat swelling in your veins that was both furious and something more—because while he was an asshole in his wording, he was, in a twisted way, correct. He knew exactly how to distort every statement and encounter, convincing you that you were always one step behind before taking you by surprise and knocking you down a peg in hopes of flustering you. And, as usual, you despised how effective it was.

You took a step forward with your hands so clenched that your nails dug into your palms. You were about to lash out, to deliver the punch you had been keeping back for far too long, but something stopped you—something in the way he stood there, his posture so nonchalant, his gaze never leaving yours. He was daring you, challenging you with a look that demanded you make the first move. The air between you hummed with unresolved frustration and suffocating tension. Your breath came in rapid, short bursts as you tried to maintain control.

"What exactly do you want from me?" The words came out rougher than you intended, colored with a barely contained wrath. "What, is it because you can’t stand that I beat you once?"

Loki cocked his head slightly, as if considering your remarks, his eyes narrowing with a mix of interest and amusement. He leaned in just enough to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I want, darling," he replied softly, his voice becoming a more intimidating whisper. "You just haven't admitted it to yourself yet." His lips twisted into a more troubling smile, one of sullen triumph. "But I'll leave you to figure that out on your own."

The smirk hovered between you like a dark cloud, an unspoken demand requiring you to act or reply. It was maddening—relentless. His presence loomed over you, stifling you, and his arrogance oozed from every word and breath. The weight of his confidence pressed against every nerve you had left, like an invisible hand around your throat.

You gripped your fists tighter, your knuckles turning white, your nails sinking into your palms, as if to steady yourself against the raging tempest within you. But it was useless. The rage, the frustration, the raw emotion—everything swirled in your chest, threatening to burst over, and you knew deep down that no matter how hard you tried to hold it in, you'd eventually lose control.

The frustration that had been building for weeks—no, a straight-up month—had now reached a breaking point. Every insulting remark, arrogant smirk, and sneaky innuendo he'd directed at you had piled up, brick by brick, into an unstable tower of contained wrath. Now that he was staring at you with that uncontrollable mix of merriment and something much darker, you weren't sure how much longer you could keep yourself together.

If looks could kill, Loki would surely be dead by now, buried so far in Dante's Inferno that even the devil himself would be shaking his head in sympathy. Even then, that would not have been enough. No, you would have gone all the way down to the circles of hell and dragged his arrogant ass back to the top just to get the joy of killing him again. And even then, it wouldn't have been enough to quench your fury.

You maintained eye contact despite the fact that your vision was beginning to warp at the borders, with red leaking into your concentration like a warning signal. Your heartbeat was loudly beating in your ears, blotting out everything else, including the slight creak of the gym equipment and the hum of the lights above.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you broke the stillness, your voice low and venomous, quivering with your rage. "You know what I've figured out, Loki?" Your look could have pierced steel, and the words that came out of your mouth were like a dagger drawn in rage. "That you’re nothing more than a twisted, kinky, masochistic little shit who’s desperate for a beating. And I’ll be more than happy to deliver."

The words barely had time to be registered before you charged at him, throwing all logic out the window. Your fist lunged toward him with all of your pent-up rage, aiming directly at his foolishly smug face. You weren't holding back this time—not like the sparring bout or the constant taunting. No, this was different. This was not about training or teasing. This was utterly personal.

This time, Loki was prepared to fight back. He always was, when he was willing to put his mind to it.

With an infuriatingly graceful sidestep, the god avoided your strike with ease, his movements so fluid and deliberate it was as though he was dancing rather than dodging. The sheer elegance of it made your blood boil. Your momentum carried you forward, forcing you to twist awkwardly as you fought to regain your footing. But he didn’t retaliate—not physically at least.

Instead, that low, mocking chuckle of his slid into the air, its rich, velvet tone wrapping around your growing frustration like a vice. “Oh, dear,” he drawled, tilting his head, his smirk cutting like a blade. “Was that meant to hit me? Or were you aiming for the floor? Do clarify—I’d hate to misjudge your prowess.”

The heat in your chest flared dangerously, your jaw tightening as you straightened to face him again. He was playing with you, and worse, it was working. Every carefully chosen word of his burrowed into your head, twisting tighter, feeding the fire inside you.

“Keep running your mouth,” you growled, your voice low, coiled with the promise of violence. “We’ll see how smug you are when I finally smash your teeth off your face.”

His smirk only deepened, the corners of his lips curling with maddening ease. He leaned forward slightly, as though letting you in on a secret, his piercing gaze alight with mock amusement. “Darling,” he purred, the word drenched in condescension. “You wound me. This isn’t smugness—it’s confidence. Surely you can make the distinction.” He paused, letting his eyes flick lazily over you, every movement of his a calculated provocation. “But do continue—it’s delightful to watch you burn yourself alive while trying to best me. Your delicious little outbursts… they’re the highlight of my day.”

That was it. The dam broke.

With a sharp stomp, your foot struck the ground, the sound reverberating like a gunshot. The vibrations rippled through the gym, and the barbell lying nearby quivered before sliding toward you with an almost supernatural pull. Your hand snapped out, catching it mid-slide, your rage fueling the motion as you hurled it at him with all the strength you could muster.

For the briefest moment, Loki’s eyes widened, betraying the slightest flicker of surprise. He merely stepped aside, the barbell flying past him and clattering noisily to the ground. He turned his head to watch it roll, then looked back at you, his smirk firmly intact. If anything, it had grown.

“Temper, temper,” he chided, his voice a silken reprimand that only stoked the fire burning inside you. “Must you always resort to such dramatics? I thought we were past breaking walls after yesterday. Though I must admit, it’s terribly endearing.” He straightened, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve, his expression unbothered save for the glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. 

His infuriatingly calm demeanor added fuel to the fire blazing within you. You lunged at him without hesitation, your gaze fixed on the one target of his smug, condescending expression. But, as usual, Loki was faster. He avoided you with uncanny accuracy, his motions a dance of seamless escape.

Your momentum propelled you forward, and your foot caught the edge of the mat beneath you. Gravity took over, and your heart lurched as you stumbled. Before you could reach the ground, a pair of powerful hands seized your waist, keeping you steady.

Loki's touch seared against your skin, even through the thin fabric of your tank top, and the proximity jarred your senses. His grip was solid yet oddly soft, as if he hadn't yet decided whether to save you or let you fall. But as he adjusted his grip, something caught—the hem of your tank top, snagged in his fingers.

The sound of tearing fabric cut through the silence like a knife. In an instant, you were on your knees, skidding to a halt on the floor, the cool air brushing against your skin where your tank top had once been. All that remained was your sports bra, leaving you exposed to his gaze.

For a long, weighty moment, the world appeared to come to a halt. You looked down at yourself and then at the ruined strip of fabric hanging from his palm. Heat flooded your face, sending an explosive mix of embarrassment and rage through you. 

Loki stood frozen, his usual poise shaken. His lips parted slightly, and for once, there was no smirk—just wide eyes and something uncharacteristically uncertain flickering across his face.

“I—” he began, his voice oddly hesitant, almost... apologetic. “That wasn’t intentional."

But you weren’t listening. You scrambled to your feet, your cheeks burning as you shoved him hard against the wall. He barely had time to react before his back hit the surface with a dull thud.

"You—!" you spat, your hands gripping his shoulders as you glared up at him. "What the fuck is your problem? Is your ego so fragile that you have to act like a spoiled, overgrown brat just to get my attention?"

His countenance changed in an instant, the flicker of regret in his eyes was replaced with something harsher. His hands raised and gripped your wrists, not to push you away but to keep you there. His emerald gaze locked on yours, the teasing gleam replaced with a smoldering intensity that made your breath catch.

"My ego?" he hissed, his voice low and sharp. "You dare lecture me about ego when you've spent this entire morning pestering me like a petulant child desperate for validation? Tell me, dear, is your righteous fury truly directed at me, or are you simply lashing out because I won’t grovel at your feet like your precious Avengers?"

Your jaw tightened as his words hit their mark, but you refused to flinch. You met his gaze with a venomous glare, your breath faint with fury. "That's fucking rich," you bit out, your voice trembling with anger. "The pot calling the kettle black. You’ve spent the entire month skulking around like a fucking peacock and pushing every button you could find, all because you can’t stand being ignored for one damn second. Newsflash: I am not here to stroke your fragile ego or cater to your every pathetic whim. Grow up, Loki."

"Grow up, you say?" Loki's voice dropped to a silken murmur, laced with derision. "How amusing, coming from someone who stomps around like a resentful little girl when things don’t go her way. If I truly bother you so much, why are you still here, clinging to me with all the conviction of a martyr in a tantrum?"

Your frustration boiled over, and you tried to wrench your wrists free, but his grip held firm. His smile widened—a sharp edge to it now. "Perhaps it’s time we skipped the tiresome little charade of insults," he growled, his voice lower, rougher, and laced with an edge that made your stomach tighten, "and got to something far more... direct."

Before he even had a chance to savor his words, your retaliation was immediate and brutal. You jerked your arm down hard, breaking his grip on your wrist, and swung a quick jab at his smug face. Your punch cut through the air, but he easily sidestepped it, his motions crisper and more precise. His jaw tightened, and the storm in his eyes burned brighter.

You didn't need another invitation. You lunged at him, your attacks faster and more powerful, anger coursing through each hit. But Loki was no longer ducking with ease; he was matching your aggressiveness with equal vigor, his motions swift and unwavering. His attacks were no longer teasing; they were charged, with his full attention on you, and the air between you crackled with a dangerous tension. Each time your fists collided, it felt like a spark was lit, and with each dodge and counter, his frustration intensified. His jaw tightened, and his eyes burned with a mix of rage and something more primitive. His breathing rate increased, and his poise deteriorated as the struggle progressed.

The struggle began afresh, each of you moving with exactitude and fierceness, demonstrating your resolve to win. The gym became a whirlwind of movement as you traded blows, each swing propelled by your enmity. But Loki was a skilled opponent whose agility and ingenuity made him a frustratingly difficult target.

Your rage rose with each dodge and sneer that crossed his infuriatingly beautiful face. He wasn't just fighting you; he was playing with you, extending the engagement as if it were a game he couldn't lose.

"Stop holding back," he commanded, catching your next strike and bending your arm just enough to make you go closer. His wild and greedy eyes fastened on yours. "Do you think I don't see it? That fire burning inside you? Do you think I don't feel it every damned time I challenge you?"

His remarks threw you off, and that split-second hesitation was all he needed. He yanked your arm, dragging you forward and twisting your body against his. In one seamless action, he reversed your speed and pushed you back onto one of the exercise benches. The breath left your lungs as your back impacted the hard surface, and before you could react, he was on you. 

"Yield," he ordered, his face mere inches from yours.

"No way," you responded harshly, defiance shining in your eyes.

His grip tightened slightly to remind you of his strength, and his sheer size intimidated you. His sneer reappeared, somehow darker and more menacing.

"Stubborn little one," he murmured, his tone deceptively sweet yet full of threat. "Always quick to retaliate and keen to defend your position. Tell me—" He drew in closer, his breath warm on your skin, and his voice dropped to a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. "What are you hoping to prove? That you are my equal—my better? Or are you too proud to admit the truth?"

Your chest heaved with each strained breath, and your heart pounded in your ears. "And what truth is that?" You spat, your voice shaking with rage and something you refused to mention.

He tilted his head, his searing emerald eyes meeting yours. "That you crave this," he remarked gently, his voice a velvet caress. "That you desire conflict and chaos because you enjoy the thrill of it. But more than that..." His smirk broadened, and his attitude became almost predatory. "You don't only want to win. You want me to break you. To force you to submit."

Your heart stuttered, heat rushing to your face as his words cut through your defenses. “You’re delusional,” you snapped, struggling against his hold, though the tension in your body betrayed you.

“Am I?” he countered, his tone maddeningly calm. His grip on your wrists didn’t waver, his strength a reminder of how utterly in control he was. “Tell me, then, why do you fight so hard to deny it? To deny me?”

His words sent a fresh surge of anger through you, and you thrashed against him, desperate to escape the weight of his presence. But he held firm, his body pressing closer until the air between you was charged with unspoken tension.

“I don’t want you in the first place, you idiot,” you lied in a hiss, glaring up at him with all the fire and resolve you could muster.

“And yet, here you are, beneath me, fighting a battle you know you cannot win,” he replied, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. “How long will it take for you to realize that resistance only makes it sweeter?”

The crackling energy between you was almost unbearable now, every inch of space charged with frustration, fury, and something far more dangerous. His grip loosened slightly—not enough to free you, but enough to make you aware of the choice he was offering.

“Yield,” he ordered again, his voice low and hypnotic, his gaze burning into yours. “Submit to me, and I promise you won’t regret it.”

You could feel your pulse hammering in your ears, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His face was so close now, the faint scent of him—something clean and sharp, like the forest after rain—invading your senses. His eyes, once gleaming with mischief, searched yours as though he were trying to unravel your very soul. And for a fleeting moment, you thought you saw hesitation flicker across his face, a crack in the unyielding armor he always wore.

"We both know," he murmured, his voice softer now but no less intense. His tone wasn’t mocking this time; it was raw, vulnerable, almost pleading. "That you’re not angry with me—you’re angry with yourself. Because you hate that I get to you like this."

You clenched your jaw, refusing to let his words sink in. But the way his gaze roamed over your face, lingering on the flush in your cheeks and the way your lips parted with unsteady breaths—it was too much. Your heart betrayed you, fluttering wildly in your chest as though it were answering an unspoken call.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," you shot back, though your voice lacked its usual bite. It trembled, weak and unconvincing, even to your ears.

Loki’s lips curled into a faint, bittersweet smile. "Don’t I? When I know that feeling all too well." He leaned in ever so slightly, his breath brushing against your skin, igniting a shiver that spread down your spine. His grip on your wrists loosened—not enough to let you go, but enough to let you know he wasn’t trying to hold you there anymore. He was waiting. Watching. And it scared you how much you wanted to close the remaining distance between you.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering to his mouth before snapping back up to his eyes. The way he looked at you now—it was almost reverent. Like he was afraid you might disappear if he blinked. That smirk you hated so much was gone, replaced by something fragile, something unspoken that hung heavy in the space between you.

"Don’t do this," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. But you didn’t move. You couldn’t. Your body was frozen, caught in the gravitational pull of his presence. "Don’t make this something it’s not."

Loki’s brow furrowed slightly, his expression softening even further. His thumb ghosted over the inside of your wrist, a featherlight touch that sent a jolt through you. "And what is this, then?" he asked quietly, his voice tinged with something that sounded almost like... fear. "Tell me, so I can stop pretending I don’t feel it too."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs. You opened your mouth to respond, to deny everything another time, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, you stared at him, your chest aching with the weight of everything left unsaid. And in that moment, the world around you faded away—no gym, no walls, no barbell lodged in the plaster. Just the two of you, teetering on the edge of something you wouldn’t name.

His gaze flickered to your lips, and you felt yourself leaning in—just a fraction, just enough to bridge the invisible chasm between you. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as the tension pulled taut, every second stretching into an eternity. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours as the space between you grew impossibly small.

But just as your lips were about to brush his, reality crashed down around you. You turned your head sharply to the side, breaking the moment before it could shatter you entirely. "No," you said hoarsely, your voice cracking under the strain of everything you were feeling. "Get off me. I’m done with this. You win, congratulations—you’ve embarrassed me enough."

Loki’s hands fell away immediately, his expression flickering with something unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might let you leave—that he might let this be the end of it. You pushed yourself up, brushing past him as you tried to steady your trembling hands. But before you could make it more than a few steps, his hand shot out, closing around your arm with surprising gentleness.

"No," he said firmly, his voice low and strained. "Not this time."

You turned to scowl at him, ready to lash out—but before you could say anything or even process the action, he drew you closer and pressed his lips to yours. The force of it took your breath away, and your head reeled from his unexpected strike.

It began tentatively, as if he were testing your resilience. His lips brushed against yours with a gentleness that belied the heat seething beneath the surface. But when you didn't back away—when your body tightened but didn't resist—his restraint crumbled. The kiss intensified, primal and unrestrained, an implicit confession of everything he had been keeping hidden.

It was all there—his fury, rage, and ravenous desire—expressed in the way his mouth pushed against yours, engulfing you whole. His hands encircled your face, fingers weaving into your hair with a tenderness that was almost painful, and his lips crushed into yours with bruising force. He kissed you like a starving man, trying to take what he thought was his, and it left you gasping for oxygen.

You clutched to your rage, desperately looking for the reasons why this was wrong—for the endless excuses to push him away. But every time his lips touched yours or his body drew closer, it weakened your barriers. His scent, intoxicating and unmistakably his, surrounded you, and the warmth of his body burned into yours, grounding you in a way that only made the moment feel more inevitable.

When you finally answered, it wasn't with caution or uncertainty, but with all of the fire that had been growing inside you for weeks. Your fingers worked their way into his hair, tangling and pulling with such force that he groaned into your mouth. The sound shot a shockwave through you, sparking something primordial and irrefutable.

All of the emotions you had tried so hard to suppress—frustration, desire, and an excruciating vulnerability—rose to the surface, spilling out in the manner you kissed him back. It wasn't gentle or forgiving. It was a fight of wills, one neither of you appeared willing to lose, and yet, in that moment, surrender had never felt more inevitable.

His lips moved with an exhilarating blend of dominance and desperation, pressing into yours with such force that every inch of your body vibrated. His grip was firm, not unpleasant, but forceful, drawing you in as if he could swallow you whole. You pushed against his chest, desperate to create distance, but your attempts were futile—he was like stone, and you were nothing more than a passing breeze. Each kiss seemed like an expression of authority, as if he were claiming your every thought and breath. Between the crashing of his lips into yours, you managed to half-heartedly say, "You arrogant piece of—"

Whatever sharp retort you had brewing was swallowed by his lips once again crashing against yours, cutting you off with a force that was as maddening as it was intoxicating. His kiss was fervent, urgent, and relentless, like he was determined to strip every shred of defiance from you.

“Yes, yes, I am,” he murmured against your lips, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. The mocking lilt of his tone was sharper than the grin you could feel tugging at his mouth, even as his lips pressed against yours with deliberate force. Heat rushed to your face, and you could feel the unmistakable warmth spreading across your cheeks, the betrayal of your body making your embarrassment all the more acute. His hands tightened at your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours and making your heart pound so loudly you were certain he could feel it through the layers of fabric between you.

The kiss wasn’t tender—it was ferocious, consuming, a raw claim that left no room for subtlety. It made your breath hitch and your stomach flip in a confusing mix of indignation and undeniable, treacherous want. His lips moved against yours with a precision that left you dizzy, and the pressure of his mouth sent sparks of heat racing through your veins.

You shoved at his chest, the warmth of his skin beneath your hands burning like a brand as you tried to push him away. Your breath was uneven, catching in your throat as you tried to summon your voice and push past the dizzying haze he had thrown you into. “You think you can just—”

“Take what I want?” he interrupted smoothly, his voice dark and velvety, curling around you like smoke. The deliberate arrogance in his words sent a jolt of anger through you, but it only added to the fire coursing through your body. He leaned back just enough to look at you, his piercing green eyes locking onto yours, and the sheer intensity of his gaze made your stomach twist.

“I thought we already established that I was hedonistic in nature.” His expression was insufferably smug, the smirk on his lips deepening as he noticed the way your chest rose and fell with each labored breath. You hated how flustered you felt under his gaze, how the heat in your cheeks betrayed your composure. 

Your skin burned with the flush of embarrassment and frustration, your nails digging into his chest as you tried to shove him away again. Before you could form a response, his lips claimed yours once more, harder this time, his teeth grazing your bottom lip in a way that sent a sharp thrill racing down your spine. The heat of his mouth was almost too much, overwhelming in its intensity, and you felt your knees weaken even as you tried to fight against him.

His hands were everywhere—rough, unapologetic, and searing as they roamed up your sides, holding you in place as though daring you to resist him. Each touch left a trail of fire in its wake, and your body betrayed you further with every brush of his fingers. Your heart was hammering in your chest, a wild rhythm that only seemed to match the chaotic pull of his kiss.

“Get off me—” you gasped, your voice trembling as you tried to summon even an ounce of strength to push him away. Your hands pressed against his chest again, your palms tingling from the sheer heat radiating off him.

His response was a low, dark chuckle that vibrated through you, making your face flush even hotter. “Off you?” he repeated mockingly, his voice dripping with sarcasm and maddening amusement. “Mh, of course.” His lips crashed into yours again, stealing your breath with a ferocity that left you spinning, your heart pounding so hard it echoed in your ears.

When he pulled back, his lips brushed against your jaw, leaving a trail of heat across your skin. “But, pet,” he murmured, his voice soft and dangerous. “I can’t help but notice… you haven’t exactly been making much of an effort to stop me.”

The audacity of his words sent another surge of frustration coursing through you, your face burning with a mix of anger and something far more treacherous. “You infuriating—”

“Go on, darling,” he interrupted smoothly, his smirk widening as his hands slid down to grip your hips with maddening confidence. The warmth of his touch seared through the fabric of your clothes, making it impossible to ignore the way your body reacted despite your fury. “Do you know how intoxicating you look when you're like this?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to suppress the wave of heat that rushed through you at his words. Your pulse was erratic, every inch of your skin buzzing with the infuriating, magnetic pull of him. “You’re insufferable,” you hissed, your voice trembling as you glared at him.

“And yet,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, the teasing intimacy of the gesture making your stomach flutter, “you enjoy every single second of it.”

Your hands fisted into the confines of his naked chest, your cheeks burning hotter as you realized you didn’t have a retort, couldn’t form the words to push him back. But before you could dwell on it, he kissed you again, his mouth moving against yours with a devastating mix of skill and dominance. His tongue swept into your mouth, a bold, possessive motion that left you gasping, your head spinning as every coherent thought scattered like ash.

“Don’t stop now,” he whispered against your lips when you finally managed to pull back, his voice low and intoxicating as his hands traced slow, torturous patterns along your back. “Tell me how much you hate this. Tell me how much you hate me.”

Your breath hitched, the heat in your face now searing as you tried to summon a response. “You—”

“Yes, yes, I’m a bastard, impossible, utterly intolerable,” he concluded, his voice laced with mocking amusement as his lips trailed down the column of your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, sending a shiver racing down your spine, and you hated the way your body leaned into him despite your anger.

“You—”

“Keep going,” he urged, his voice a silken taunt as his hands slid lower, his touch rough and deliberate. “I can take it.”

You hated him. You despised the way his words wrapped around you like a vice, turning your rage into something deeper, more frightening. You loathed the way his hands felt so nice against your flesh and how your body betrayed you by leaning into him when you should've moved away.

But then his lips grabbed yours again, in a slow and devastating manner that you could not resist, and every ounce of rage, every carefully built wall, shattered beneath the wildfire he had started, leaving only the heat and mayhem he sparked within you.

Each kiss was a war, each touch a challenge you couldn't win, and when he eventually pulled back, his lips swollen and his eyes flaming with triumph, you knew with a mix of umbrage and exhilaration that you were utterly undone.

Loki’s hands steadied you instantly, strong and sure, as though he sensed you were teetering on the edge of losing control. His grip tightened at your hips, grounding you with an infuriating ease that only he could manage. His lips ghosted over your ear as he leaned closer, his voice dripping with mock concern.

“Are you quite finished throwing your tantrum, sweet thing?” He purred, his tone both soothing and maddeningly condescending.

Your breath hitched, and you opened your mouth to snap back at him, but the words caught in your throat. You opened your mouth to retort, but the words tangled in your throat. “I—You think—” You stumbled over your indignation, frustration bubbling up as you tried to form a coherent insult. 

You hated how your voice wavered and how the overwhelming sensations he drew out of you made it impossible to sound as sharp as you wanted. “You conceited, pompous bastard,” you finally stammered, the insult tumbling out far less venomous than you’d intended.

He chuckled low and rich, the sound vibrating through you. “Hm,” he mused, tilting his head as though deep in thought. “I thought as much.” That infuriating, shit-eating grin widened, and before you could fire back another insult, his lips descended to your neck, and every coherent thought you had dissolved in an instant. 

His mouth was warm, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed slow, deliberate kisses along the curve of your neck. Each kiss seemed designed to unravel you further, his lips moving with calculated precision as if he were taking his time savoring your reaction.

“Loki, don’t—” You managed to gasp, your hands bracing against his chest, though your push lacked conviction.

“Don’t?” He echoed mockingly, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver racing down your spine. “Don’t what, darling? Don’t mark what’s mine?”

Your breath hitched again, and your heart thudded painfully in your chest. “I’m not—”

“Not what?” he cut in once again, his lips curling into a wicked smile against your neck. “Not mine?” His voice was a silken taunt, each word dragging across your senses as his mouth continued its relentless assault. “I hope you weren’t really planning to utter such lies.”

Hot, open-mouthed kisses trailed down your skin, each one igniting a fire that made it hard to focus on anything but the pleasure he was drawing from you. His teeth grazed your pulse point, a sharp contrast to the warmth of his mouth, and a moan escaped your lips before you could stop it. The sound seemed to encourage him, and he continued his assault, leaving marks that would serve as reminders of his claim on you. 

“Stop it,” you hissed, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

“Stop?” he repeated, amusement lacing his tone as he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he studied the flush in your cheeks and the way your lips parted as you tried to catch your breath. “Tell me you’re not enjoying this far too much to mean that.”

You glared at him, desperate to reclaim even a shred of control, but the smirk tugging at his lips only deepened as he leaned back in, his lips finding the hollow of your throat. He pressed a lingering kiss there, his tongue teasing your skin before his teeth followed, and you couldn’t stop the soft sound that escaped you.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a low growl that sent another wave of heat coursing through you. With that, he shifted slightly, positioning you perfectly in his lap. The heat between you was undeniable, and as he began to work his fingers beneath your waistband, you realized you were on the precipice of surrender. 

Loki’s fingers slid beneath your waistband, his touch sparking a fire within you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your veins. “Just give in,” he urged, his breath warm against your skin, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, teasing the distance with maddening slowness, never quite allowing the connection you craved. “You know you want to.”

Your pulse quickened, your heart hammering as he shifted you in his lap, guiding you to press against his thigh. The warmth radiating from him was nearly unbearable, and your breath faltered as the intensity of it suffocated you. Without thinking, your body instinctively moved, grinding against him, eliciting a low, almost painful hiss from his lips at the contact.

“Look at you,” he crooned, his voice laced with a dark, sultry edge that made your spine tingle. “So eager, yet so defiant. Why fight it?” His hands seized your hips, his grip unyielding, forcing your movements with a possessive strength that left no room for dissent. “You’re reveling in this far too much to deny it.”

Your gaze seethed with defiance, your mind struggling to maintain its composure beneath the weight of the pleasure clouding your senses. “I’m not—”

“Not begging for more? Because it certainly feels like you are.” With a sudden, deliberate motion, he pressed you harder against his thigh, the friction pushing you nearer the edge, sending a flood of pleasure crashing through you like an unstoppable wave. Heat gathered in your core, and you fought to suppress the moan building in your throat, your teeth sinking into your lip. But your resolve was weak, crumbling with every movement as you ground down again, feeling the unmistakable bulge beneath you.

“See?” he whispered, his voice thick with raw lust. “You can’t resist.” His eyes, darkened with hunger, bore into yours, and his lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Admit it. You’re mine.”

“Fuck you,” you managed to rasp through the haze of desire clouding your thoughts, your nails digging into the taut, bare skin of his shoulders in search of something to hold onto.

A cruel laugh rumbled in his chest, and he leaned in, his lips finding the sensitive curve of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin with an almost brutal tenderness. The sharp sting of his bite left a mark, a claim that would undoubtedly linger. “In an instant, darling,” he promised against your pulse, his voice thick with wicked amusement.

With a swift motion, he reached for your sports bra, expertly unclasping it and tossing it aside as if it were inconsequential. “Now, let’s see if you can behave,” he murmured, his gaze ravenously consuming you as his hands roamed freely over your exposed skin, igniting every nerve ending in their wake.

“Loki!” You gasped, feeling both exposed and vulnerable, yet exhilarated by his unyielding attention.

“Such a beautiful sight,” he breathed, his fingers trailing down your sides, teasingly slow. “You should be thanking me for this opportunity.”

As he urged you to grind harder against his thigh, the tension coiled tighter within you, like a spring ready to snap. His lips found your breasts, leaving a trail of bite marks as he savored every inch of you. “You’re going to be my good girl, aren’t you? Just let go,” he coaxed, his voice smooth like silk yet laced with a commanding undertone.

The pleasure began to overtake you, and with each movement, your anger ebbed away, replaced by an intoxicating mix of desire and frustration. You wanted to resist, to reclaim your defiance, but it slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.

You bit back another retort, but it faltered on your lips as he pushed you closer to the precipice, the sweet friction against his thigh sending you spiraling. “Come on, darling, let me hear you admit it,” he urged, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him as you lost yourself in the rhythm.

With every grinding motion, he intensified the sensations coursing through you, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s it. Just like that,” he whispered, his tone both sultry and commanding. “Feel how much you crave this.”

As the lingering tremors of your release slowly began to fade, your body quivered, the aftershocks of the overwhelming pleasure still coursing through you. Each tremble seemed to ignite a spark deep within, the reverberations of desire echoing in every inch of your skin. Your mind, once sharp and defiant, now felt hazy and disoriented, like a fog had settled over your thoughts. Every breath you drew was a laborious effort, slow and uneven, as though each inhale was a battle. The fortress you’d painstakingly constructed around yourself had crumbled, completely undone by the weight of your surrender.

Loki observed it all, his gaze darkening with satisfaction, an almost predatory pleasure gleaming in his eyes. His lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk as he took in the slow unraveling of your resistance. He hummed a low, approving sound, the vibrations of it reverberating through the space between you, sending a ripple of shivers across your skin. “There it is,” he whispered, his voice a velvety murmur that held a trace of something far more tender. “So well done, pet. You come so beautifully. Let it wash over you... Feel it.”

The world outside seemed to blur, the edges of reality dissolving until only he remained, his presence enveloping you like an inescapable fog. You struggled to regain your breath, your body still quivering in the aftermath, and as the final whispers of pleasure ebbed away, your thoughts slowly began to clear. And in that clarity, only one question emerged from the haze.

“Why?” The word left your lips before you could stop it, fragile and uncertain, hanging in the air between you like a whisper in the dark. “Why did you do all of this?” Confusion twisted through you as you sought to understand his motives—why he’d driven you to this point, leaving you trembling, vulnerable, and exposed.

Loki's gaze softened, and his intensity subsided for a moment. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your skin as he looked down at you, the play of light in his eyes reflecting a dangerous, intoxicating satisfaction. His smile was slow and deliberate, curling at the corners of his mouth with a satisfaction that alluded to something much darker. "Why?" he asked with a gentle pretense, his voice like smooth honey, taunting but also laced with something more. “Is it really so difficult to grasp?”

His brow quirked, a glint of devilish amusement flashing in his eyes as his fingers traced slow, possessive patterns across your skin, his touch leaving a trail of warmth behind. The way you shuddered at his touch seemed to delight him, as if your vulnerability were a prize only he could claim. “It’s because I don’t share,” he continued, his voice taking on a darker tone, thick with possessiveness. “I can’t stand the thought of others looking at you... wanting you. You’re mine, darling. Only mine.”

He moved beneath you, his hands tightening around your hips with a possessive force that sent shivers of submission through you. He drew you closer, his body hard and unyielding against yours, as if he were marking you in the most intimate way possible. His face loomed over you, his eyes penetrating, dark and intense, as if reading your soul. “I can’t bear the thought of anyone else touching you... of anyone else claiming what belongs to me.” His lips brushed against your temple in a soft, lingering kiss, and the words that followed were barely a whisper but full of danger. 

“And if you must know, I would do it again a thousand times over, just to see that look on your face.” His hands, firm and unwavering, held you as though you were a precious treasure, a fragile thing meant only for him. In that moment, his words sank deep within you, causing your heart to race again, each beat a reminder of his power over you. Loki was claiming more than just your body—he was claiming every aspect of you, from your desires to your thoughts, your very essence. He was claiming your soul, and with each passing second, you realized there was nowhere else you wanted to be than in his arms, surrounded by the intoxicating pull of his dominance.

He leaned in, his breath grazing your ear, the intimacy too intense, too overwhelming. “You’ve been quite the handful, haven’t you?” His voice was silky, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, a calm before the storm. “Your defiance, your little acts of rebellion… amusing, certainly. But now, I think you’ve earned yourself a well-deserved punishment.”

You felt a tremor come over you as you heard the words, but you refused to cower. Your heart rate quickened, and the fire in your chest flared, anger combining with the heat of the moment. “That wall you carelessly dented?” His voice dropped low, dangerously calm. “I’ve already fixed it. I don't care to repeat myself, so I think I’ll find another way to make you see the error of your ways.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against you while Loki's grip on you tightened, and you felt him lower your leggings, removing your underwear and setting them aside. The cool air in the room brushed against your exposed skin, causing you to shiver as much as his fingers did, trailing softly along your inner thighs, teasing you. Then, with maddening slowness, his fingers found their mark, and he began to stroke your clit in a steady rhythm. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp at the contact.

"Wait, Loki, I’m—” you began, your voice shaking but steady, trying to fight the way his touch made your body respond. You tried to pull away, but it was too late—his hold was firm, guiding you exactly where he wanted you.

“Sensitive?” he interjected, his chuckle dark and mocking. “I know, darling. That’s the point. You’ve always liked to test your limits, haven’t you? Pushing yourself at that absurd sanctuary of yours.” His eyes gleamed dangerously. “Well, now I’ll test your endurance, and see how well you fare.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck at his words, your heart thumping harder in your chest. Despite the vulnerability creeping over you, a flash of irritation flickered within you, and you lifted your chin slightly, meeting his gaze with a flicker of defiance. “I’m not some… toy for you to play with,” you snapped, though your breath was shaky, betraying your body’s response to him.

Loki’s eyes darkened with something much more possessive, almost predatory. “Of course not, you’re my pet,” he purred, his fingers still relentless, pressing you deeper into him. “You’re mine to test, to push, to bend to my will.”

His fingers continued to move with slow precision, each touch deliberate, sending waves of heat through your overstimulated skin. You bit down on your lip, your chest rising and falling in quick breaths, your hands curling against his shoulders, trying to find some control. You lowered your head in frustration, your forehead resting against the marks you had left on his skin earlier. His fingers never stopped, each motion calculated and designed to remind you of just who had control here.

With every touch, you could feel yourself growing more and more sensitive, your body responding involuntarily to his skillful touch. It was as if he knew exactly how to push your buttons and how to manipulate your body to his will. And despite yourself, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan, your body begging for more.

Loki's laughter was low and dark, full of satisfaction. "That's it," he whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Let go. Give in to the sensation. You know you want to."

You wanted to resist, to fight against him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Your body was betraying you, responding to his touch in ways you couldn't control. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with need.

"Loki, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't know what you were asking for, but you knew you needed something.

His fingers stilled, the sudden absence a stark contrast to the overwhelming sensations that had just been coursing through you. The heat that had been building within you seemed to retract, leaving a hollow ache in its wake. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips—a sound that surprised even you. Your hands tightened on his shoulders, unconsciously seeking to bring back the exquisite torture, the delicious torment he had so skillfully inflicted.

"Loki," you insistantly repeated in a whine, the word now a plea laced with a desperation you hadn't intended to reveal. You lifted your head, eyes wide and pleading, searching his dark gaze for understanding, though you knew, deep down, he understood far more than you ever wanted him to.

His expression was unreadable, a mask of cool amusement playing on his lips. "Please what, darling?" he purred, his voice a silken whisper that both enticed and unnerved. He tilted his head, a challenge in his eyes. "Beg me for what you want."

The silence stretched between you, heavy and potent. You knew what he wanted. He wanted you to break, to crumble beneath his touch, to admit the weakness he so clearly enjoyed. It was a game he reveled in, and you were caught firmly in his web. You had been prepared for punishment, for a battle of wills, but the exquisite pleasure, the sheer intensity of what he had been doing, had left you utterly vulnerable.

Your hesitation was palpable, your dignity clashing with the urgent demands of your body. Each breath came in ragged gasps, and the lack of his touch felt almost unbearable. He observed you with a gleam of victory in his eyes, a silent victor savoring his moment.

"You are supposed to be punished, pet," he finally spoke, his voice a low, menacing rumble. His gaze swept over you, pausing at the blush on your cheeks, the rapid ascent and descent of your chest, and the instinctive shift of your hips toward him. "Moments ago, you were so responsive, so eager. You exposed your vulnerability so swiftly."

He chuckled, his mirth evident. "If you want more, show me just how much you crave it," he commanded, his tone authoritative. "Ride my fingers, sweet thing. Prove how resilient you truly are."

For a moment, you wavered, uncertain of your next move. But your body’s yearning overpowered your doubt, and you began to move your hips against his fingers, pressing down to find the friction and sensation you yearned for. You lifted and lowered your hips, gasping as his firm digits slipped inside you. The wetness and readiness made the slight stretch both intense and delightful. Feeling more confident, you moved your hips in a rolling motion, taking him deeper.

Loki’s smile widened as he watched, his eyes darkening with desire at the sight of you riding his fingers. "That’s it, pet," he encouraged, his voice brimming with satisfaction. "Just like that. Show me how much you yearn for this."

After weeks of being teased, taunted, and pushed to the brink of madness, you felt yourself finally surrendering, utterly lost in the pleasure. It was as if every nerve in your body had been strung tight, coiled with need and frustration, until now, when Loki’s touch unraveled you completely. Your thoughts, once sharp and defiant, were reduced to a foggy haze as waves of ecstasy crashed over you, each one more overwhelming than the last. The build-up, the anticipation—it was all worth it. Every tormenting moment led to this, and now, with him, there was nothing but release. Your body responded to him instinctively, desperate for more, drowning in a sea of bliss that left no room for resistance. You were lost to it, to him, to the intoxicating pleasure that had been so cruelly withheld for so long.

You moaned, your movements becoming more frantic as his provocative words filled your ears. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he groaned, his fingers curling inside you. "I bet you’re imagining this is my cock, stretching you open, filling you so perfectly."

The vivid imagery his words painted sent a surge of heat to your core, and you cried out, your inner muscles tightening around his fingers. "Mmh, yes," you babbled, "M’gonna kill you—oh, Loki—want you to take me."

"Oh, I will take you, indeed," he growled, his fingers thrusting more forcefully. "I’ll take you so hard you’ll forget your name. But first, you’re going to come all over my fingers, just like the eager little thing you are. Drench them, show me how sorry you are."

The combination of his words and the relentless thrusting of his fingers pushed you to the brink. You came with a silent scream, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Loki continued to move through your orgasm, prolonging the ecstasy until you collapsed against his chest, utterly spent. The intensity left you feeling weightless, as if you were floating on a euphoric cloud. Your mind was blissfully empty, thoughts hazy and disjointed. All you could focus on was the pleasing buzz coursing through your veins, the residual heat between your thighs, and Loki's strong arms wrapped around you.For a few moments, there was only the sound of your slowing heartbeats and Loki's slightly elevated breathing as he held you close.

His fingers stirred within your sensitive folds, and you jolted at the sudden stimulation, a whimper escaping your lips. "Too much, too much," you protested weakly, but it was a token objection at best. Your body felt electrified, every nerve-ending raw and overwrought.

"Just a little more," Loki soothed, and you keened, moving your hips as much as your sated body would allow. The bench beneath you was rapidly growing damp, and you could feel a fresh surge of arousal building despite your recent release.

"Look at you, still desperate for it," he chuckled darkly, rubbing his thumb against your swollen clit. "Such a greedy little thing. I think you've earned another reward, pet."

His ministrations intensified, and you found yourself climbing towards another peak entirely too soon. "Please, please, fuck," you whined, unsure if you were begging for more or for mercy. The stimulation was almost too intense, pushing you towards the edge again. He worked you expertly, no longer teasing but fully focused on wringing every last drop of pleasure from you.

"So responsive," he commented appreciatively, urging you on with filthy encouragement. Your hips rocked of their own accord, meeting the thrusts of his fingers. "Come for me again. Show me how well you've learned your place."

The coil within you tightened, tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, and you cried out sharply, your inner muscles clenching viciously around Loki's fingers. A gush of liquid heat flooded his hand and soaked through his trousers where you straddled his lap, dripping onto the bench below. The sensation was so intense it bordered on painful, whiting out your vision as you shook and shuddered through it.

Finally, you collapsed against him, utterly spent and dazed. Loki withdrew his fingers slowly, bringing them to his mouth. Maintaining eye contact, he licked them clean of your essence, his gaze smoldering. "Exquisite," he hummed, savoring your taste. "I knew you'd be delectable. Don't think we're done, sweet one. That was merely the beginning."

You could only whimper in response, your body still trembling with aftershocks. You were sure Loki would make good on his promise, bringing you to peak after peak as he had his wicked way with you, until you were a boneless, oversensitive puddle. He'd take you thoroughly, claiming you in every way imaginable, pushing your boundaries and wringing out every last drop of pleasure before finally allowing you a moment's respite.

Loki ran his fingers lightly down your spine, making you shiver and whimper at the hypersensitive touch. "Breathe, sweet girl, breathe," he murmured soothingly. "Let it all go, let yourself feel every aftershock."

⠀

⠀

As the aftermath of your third release rippled through you, you lay sprawled against Loki, still buzzing in the wake of the overwhelming sensations. He, on the other hand, appeared perfectly composed, with the exception of slightly ragged breaths—his eyes gleaming with that familiar, mischievous glint as he watched you recover, his fingers tracing absent patterns along your skin.

"Mind you," he began, his voice low and smooth, the slightest chuckle hinting at the amusement dancing behind his words. "I’ve heard some rather... curious things about the female body. And considering how often you frequent this ridiculous section, I couldn’t help but recall an interesting tidbit I came across not long ago."

You raised an eyebrow, your breathing still unsteady as you managed a tired glance at him, your voice weak but laced with a hint of defiance. "What now?"

He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect his words were having on you. "Ah, nothing too extraordinary. Just a small fact about a certain... fluid that the female body produces.” He scooped some of your combined essences from where they trickled down your thigh. He brought his fingers to his lips, maintaining eye contact as he licked them clean with a lingering purr. “Ever heard of it, darling?" 

You narrowed your eyes, the heat of your previous high still lingering in your chest as your mind slowly returned to focus. "What are you getting at, Loki?"

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his fingers began to caress your side, bringing another shiver to your already overstimulated body. "Well," he continued, his voice dark and teasing, "it seems there's a certain substance in that fluid that shares some similarities with... the things you consume at the gym. Creatine, for instance.”

You blinked, your lips parting in surprise at his insinuation. The exhaustion from your highs didn't quell the stirring of your mind—nor the slight flush creeping up your neck as you caught onto his meaning.

"Are you suggesting..." you started, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Loki chuckled softly, eyes gleaming. "Oh, darling, I merely thought you might like to share a bit of what you regularly consume. Not that I need it, of course." He gave you a teasing look, his lips quirking into that devilish grin. “But I'd gladly go down for a taste any time. All day long if you'd like. Or would you rather I bend you over and show you the depths of my stamina, pretty pet? Take you apart on my cock until you're thoroughly wrecked and dripping with both our spend? Mmh, so many delightful ways to sully you."

He nipped at your earlobe. "So what shall it be, pet? Shall I feast on your pretty cunt or fuck you senseless? Or perhaps..." His hand drifted teasingly between your thighs, collecting more of your slick. He brought the coated fingers to your lips. "Both? Knowing what an insatiable little thing you are, I suspect you want it all."

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the tender remnants of pleasure still humming beneath your skin, making you all the more flustered as the dizziness of Loki’s teasing lingered. Each breath you took felt shallow, almost unsteady, and your body, still too sensitive, seemed to vibrate with a heightened awareness of him. You blinked up at him, your mind reeling, trying to push away the wave of heat that had gathered in your chest. But even as you tried to regain some composure, the words escaped you, weak and unsteady. "You're a heathen," you managed, your voice a breathless rasp, the remnants of his touch still pulsing through you.

Loki’s grin deepened, the corners of his mouth curling with dark satisfaction. His gaze flickered with amusement as he ran his tongue across his lips in a deliberate, almost languid motion. "Perhaps, but isn’t that just the way you like it?" His voice purred in your ear, smooth and velvety, tinged with a teasing edge. His hands began to shift, moving with slow intent, preparing to follow through on his words. But just as he was about to act, something in his expression shifted—a sudden, almost imperceptible change. The playful light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something far more intense, more focused.

"What’s wrong?" you asked, your voice breathy and thick with confusion as you struggled to make sense of the sudden shift in his demeanor.

Loki abruptly moved with startling speed, his hands gripping you firmly and lifting you effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your body pressing flush against his, the closeness exacerbating the heat and tension between you. The world around you spun in an instant, and the disorienting sensation of teleportation swept you away. The familiar surroundings vanished, leaving behind the sterile, strangely fragrant air of a men's locker room—fresh towels, wood, and the space's cool, musky scent filling your senses.

"What’s going on?" You gasped, still trying to orient yourself as the confusion clawed at you. Your heart raced in your chest, still fluttering from the previous onslaught of pleasure. 

"You’ll find out soon enough," Loki replied, his voice hardening, no trace of humor left. It was almost as though he were impatient with your questions, his tone clipped and direct.

You scowled at the sudden shift in energy and pushed against his chest with an exasperated huff. "You could have at least warned me!" You grumbled, smacking his chest lightly, but your action only seemed to amuse him further, his lips curling into an unreadable smile. "Where are we?"

Loki’s gaze darkened just a fraction, a subtle glint in his eyes as his mood shifted again. "Careful, darling," he warned with a touch of mockery, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "I wouldn’t want you to lose your balance..."

Before you could respond, the god shifted his weight, his hands loosening just enough to make you tilt precariously. Your body slipped dangerously from his grasp, and a startled squeal tore from your lips as panic surged through you. The disorienting sensation of falling sent your arms flailing instinctively, grasping at nothing in a desperate attempt to stabilize yourself.

Effortlessly, Loki caught you at the last possible moment, his grip tightening with practiced ease. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he steadied you, his lips curling into that signature, maddening smirk. “Come now, pet,” he taunted, and a low chuckle vibrated in his chest as he shifted your position, holding you securely once more. “What’s the matter? I thought you might enjoy a little... thrill.”

The sudden movement had brought a rush of delicious friction, making you shudder and gasp out loud. Loki didn't miss the effect, and his smirk turned downright sinful as he teased, "My, my, what a naughty little pet you are. Barely grazing you and you’re already trembling for me again." 

He ground you down deliberately, his hard length stroking your sensitive spots in the most tempting way. "Three times you've found your pleasure, and yet you're still desperate for more, aren't you? Greedy girl."

His voice was a deep, seductive murmur, the words dripping with sinful promise. You could only moan in response, too lost in sensation to form a coherent reply. All you could focus on was the delicious friction of his body rubbing against your swollen, sensitive flesh with each roll of his hips.

With a casual flick of his wrist, he used his magic to make the remaining clothes vanish, leaving nothing between your bodies. "Much better," he purred approvingly, his heated gaze raking over your naked form.

You couldn't help but blush, suddenly self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. His eyes devoured you, drinking in every dip and curve of your body like a man dying of thirst. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, knowing it would be pointless. Instead, you forced yourself to meet his stare, trying to project a confidence you didn't quite feel.

And as yours moved down his chiseled chest and abs, you noticed your cheeks flushing for entirely different reasons. God, he was perfection incarnate. All lean muscle and smooth skin, his body a testament to his otherworldly heritage. You reached out a tentative hand, trailing your fingers along the defined ridges of his stomach. He sucked in a sharp breath at the touch, his muscles clenching under your palm.

"Like what you see, pet?" He caught your chin, tilting your face up to meet his knowing smirk. Slowly, teasingly, he stroked your cheek with his thumb. "You're quite the vision yourself. A body made to drive a god mad with lust…"

You hid your burning face into his neck, nuzzling into him and breathing in his intoxicating scent. Unable to resist, you started peppering his throat with open-mouthed kisses, sucking on his pulse point. He groaned, his head falling back in bliss. The sound emitted from him emboldened you, and you began marking him with hickeys, determined to leave your claim on his skin. He shuddered in response, hips rocking into yours with desperate little thrusts. "You're playing with fire," he warned thickly, though he made no move to stop your ministrations.

Your fingers, originally clasped against the firm skin of his trapezius, wound up into the roots of his hair, the strands soft yet strong under your touch. You allowed yourself to revel in the warmth of his presence for a brief moment, noting the subtle tremors that coursed through his relaxing body beneath your gentle ministrations with a wicked thought. Every movement, every shift of your fingers was purposeful, exploring the sensitive area just beneath his hairline, feeling the heat of his skin radiate in response.

But all of a sudden, Loki's entire demeanor changed. His body tensed and he bristled at your touch, as if you had poured cold water on him. He moved again in long and hurried strides, carrying you swiftly toward one of the shower cabinets. The abruptness of his movement startled you, and you let out a small shout in surprise, hands instinctively clutching at him, fingers digging into the solid curve of his sides as you struggled to steady yourself. "What’s it to you?" You asked, your voice thick with confusion and a hint of frustration, before Loki suddenly spun back around, the quickness of his motion almost making your head spin.

He reached for the showerhead, turning it on with a forceful twist. The sudden jet of water splashed over you, drenching you in a cascade of cold droplets. You couldn’t help the startled exclamation that left your lips as the shock of the—now real—cold water hit your skin, and your body instinctively flinched from the unexpected deluge.

You gasped in shock as the icy liquid splashed over you, the cold sensation cutting through you like a blade. “Really, Loki? This is how you choose to handle things now?” You sputtered, your voice thick with irritation. The water clung to your skin, and you barely registered the chill as your exasperation grew. “We haven’t even finished rearranging the gym, and you’re wasting precious time with this nonsense!”

Before you could pronounce another word, Loki's hand shot up, leaving you breathless, and pressed firmly against your mouth. "Hush," he hissed, the command so sharp and forceful it sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes, intense and unreadable, narrowed as he gazed at you, the glint of something dangerous flashing in his expression. "We’ve got company."

You bit your lip, unable to tear your gaze away as the water dripped off his skin, each droplet catching the light and glistening like liquid pearls. The way it traced the contours of his body, gliding over every inch, was almost unbearably erotic. It was a sight that made your pulse quicken, the temptation to reach out and touch was almost overwhelming. But as you shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of the trance his presence had placed you in, you couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading through you, despite your best efforts to push the thought away.

Your eyes bore into him, brimming with frustration as your words rang out with increasing annoyance. “It’s your fault we’re behind schedule. Your endless antics, your distractions—” You threw your hands up in the air, as if to emphasize your point. “We could have been done by now!”

But Loki, ever the embodiment of calm control, merely leaned back slightly, his gaze unwavering as a wicked glint danced in his eyes. The smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips only deepened, like a cat toying with its prey. His amusement was palpable, and it only made your blood boil more. He cut you off once more in your tirade by swiftly moving his hand, gripping your hips with an iron hold and thrusting into you without so much as a warning. 

Your words died on your lips as a startled gasp escaped you, your nails lodging into their previous place in his skin, your body yielding to his intrusion in a burst of pleasure and pain. You were soaked from the precedent orgasms, but it didn’t feel nearly enough to take him comfortably. The stretch of his thick length filling you sent sparks of raw sensation ricocheting through your nerves and a river of whines and curses flowed out of your mouth. 

"Not so defiant now, are we?" He drawled in your ear, his voice a sinful rasp. "Moan for me, sweet thing. Let me hear what a needy little whore you are for me." His hips snapped against yours, driving into you with brutal force. The tile wall scraped your back as he held you in place, each powerful stroke jolting your body. Your hands scrabbled at his shoulders, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. 

The conflicting sensations overwhelmed you—his rough treatment, the cold water still splashing over your skin, the depravity of being taken so publicly. Anyone could round that corner and guess you pinned and split open on his cock, helpless. It seemed your thightening also proved to be too much for the Asgardian, considering the lowly grunts emitting from him at each move.

"Gods above, you’re so fucking tight. Always so fussy," he growled, nipping at your throat hard enough to leave a mark. "Complaining and bossing around as if you don't crave this. Admit it."

One hand hastily found temporary refuge against the shower tiles, against which he sharply tackled you, sending you nearly howling before he slid it between your bodies to circle your clit, the touch searing in intensity. Loki pinched the sensitive bundle of nerves, sending jolts through your core. "Tell me how badly you want it. How desperate you are for my cock."

"Fuck you," you spat, but it was breathless, and you bit your lips to retain another moan as your hips started to meet his thrusts. He was relentless, pummeling into your cunt like it was a personal challenge. The wet slap of flesh echoed obscenely in the cabinet, and your nails rivered down the mount of his back at each meeting.

"Filthy mouth. Keep running it, darling, and I’ll give you something far better to do with it. Though I much prefer the sound of you undone beneath me—such a dirty, desperate slut, getting fucked where anyone could see. Say it." He punctuated each of his words with hard and punishing thrusts, successfully pulling out a scream out of you. "Say you're my dirty little cock sleeve. Say it."

Humiliated tears pricked your eyes but you couldn't deny the intense pleasure coiling hot and low in your belly. He played your body like he had mastered it for years, winding you tighter with every roll of his hips and ruthless touch.

"I—ah, fuck, fuck! Loki, Loki—mmh, I..." You babbled, unable to form a proper sentence as you felt your walls repeatedly flutter around him, so close to the edge.

"Are you going to come like the wanton whore you are, pet? Show me what a depraved little fucktoy you are for me." His fingers worked your clit as he mercilessly pounded into your clenching heat.

You were teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation as Loki's unstoppable movements propelled you higher and higher. But just as the tension was about to break, a grating sound pierced the air: a door dragging on the floor as it was pulled open. Loki froze quickly, his sharp inhale the only sound above your ragged gasping. The abrupt halt caused a desperate moan to escape from your lips, your forehead pressing against his as your body trembled from the harsh interruption. His warm breath brushed over your inflamed cheeks, and both of you were frozen in place, chests heaving as the faint echo of the disturbance hung between you like a thick cloud.

Desperation gripped at you, and your hips shifted reflexively, sliding against him in a frantic attempt to pursue the high he had cruelly paused for. But as swiftly as you moved, Loki's solid hands grasped your hips, immobilizing you with relentless force. "Oh, you—" you began, your voice filled with irritation, the insult poised to spill from your lips. But before you could continue, a deep, booming voice resonated across the room, making your blood run cold. Thor. You froze entirely, your wide eyes focusing on Loki's face as his jaw clenched in displeasure. He cocked his head toward the sound, his cheeky grin replaced by a scowl, as if quietly evaluating the risk of being detected.

You pressed your back against the cool, tiled walls of the cramped shower cabinet, the water cascading over you in a rhythmic, steady flow. The silence that enveloped the space felt almost suffocating after the intensity of earlier, the echoes of your heated exchange still lingering in the air. Despite the cold water, your body hummed with unresolved tension, each nerve alive with the memory of the raw desire that had coursed through you moments before. Your gaze narrowed, locking onto Loki, whose expression was far too smug for your liking. His sharp features seemed even more defined in the low, flickering light, an almost predatory gleam dancing in his emerald eyes.

“You’re such a dumbass,” you spat in a harsh whisper, your voice too loud in the confined space, but it felt necessary. “Thor definitely heard us. How could he not? We weren’t exactly quiet!”

Loki's lips curled slightly at the corners, his gaze sharpening as he brought a finger to his mouth in a gesture that screamed mockery. “Silence, darling,” he purred, though there was an underlying tension in his voice, a trace of something darker beneath the usual arrogance. “I’ve cast a spell on you. Every delightful sound you might’ve made is now rendered... inaudible to him. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?” you shot back, incredulity tinging your whisper as you poked a finger firmly into his chest. “We’re hiding in a damn shower because of your brilliant idea to—”

Before you could finish, a heavy footstep echoed through the empty locker room, the unmistakable sound of a boot scraping against the floor. The noise sliced through the air, halting both of you in your tracks. Loki’s jaw clenched in reaction, and before you could say anything more, he pulled you closer, one arm wrapping around your waist protectively.

“Loki?” Thor’s booming voice echoed through the gym, reverberating off the walls and setting your heart hammering in your chest.

Loki cleared his throat with practiced ease, his voice smooth, a mask of indifference slipping effortlessly into place. “I’m here, brother. Must you bellow like a wounded ox?”

The footsteps grew louder, nearing the cabinet, and you felt your pulse spike, your body coiling with anxiety. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Why are you in here?” Thor’s voice was laced with curiosity, though there was an undercurrent of suspicion. “And... why are you alone?”

Thinking quickly, Loki leaned toward the door, his tone shifting to one of feigned irritation. “Because,” he began smoothly, the words rolling off his tongue with practiced ease, “the company I’ve been forced to endure is entirely... unfit to handle my presence. She’s utterly incapable of composure, and I needed a moment of reprieve.”

Your eyes widened, and without thinking, your hand shot up to slap his arm. The sharp sound of your palm meeting his skin echoed in the confined space, making Loki’s head snap toward you in surprise. His gaze, normally filled with confident mischief, was now heavy with a silent warning.

Thor, hearing only Loki’s part of the conversation, paused, a flicker of concern in his voice. “Brother... are you all right?”

Loki sighed dramatically, dragging a hand down his face in mock exasperation. “Perfectly fine, Thor. Must you make everything sound so dramatic?”

“Perhaps,” Thor replied, his tone softening with genuine sympathy. “But I can’t help but feel some pity for her, having to endure your antics. It was foolish of you to start this little game, Loki. You knew it wasn’t a good idea.”

The air grew thick and heavy with the weight of Thor’s words, and you bit your lip to suppress a scoff. “He’s got a point,” you whispered under your breath, unable to resist the jab.

Loki’s eyes narrowed dangerously, the irises darkening as he turned his head toward you, his voice now a low growl. “I thought I told you to shut up,” he muttered, the words dripping with frustration and a simmering heat. 

Without warning, he pulled you closer to him, and you gasped at the sudden, almost punishing thrust of his hips. You couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped your lips as he controlled the rhythm with possessive intent, mewling at each slow shove made into you. You attempted to move yours again in response, but his hands gripped your hips even tighter, preventing you from properly chasing the sensation.

Loki leaned in closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he muttered under his breath, "You're lucky I know magic, darling," his tone laced with an edge of irritation. "I’ve muted the sound of you for the surroundings, but you still need to be quiet so I can maintain some semblance of normalcy here. Honestly, you’re as insolent as ever." His eyes flashed with barely-contained frustration, a sharp contrast to his usual composure, as he gave you a pointed look, warning you to hold your tongue. 

The smile that spread across your face was inevitable. This little concession of his? It only gave you the perfect idea to be even more of a brat. You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered just loud enough for him to hear, tightening your vice on him just enough to make him groan. "Maybe I like being a little insolent," you teased, your voice dripping with mischief.

Thor, hearing only Loki’s seemingly pained sound, furrowed his brows in concern. “Are you certain you’re fine? You sound... agitated.”

“Careful. He’s onto you.” The god gave you a warning glare, his lips curling in annoyance, and he was about to retaliate once more to silence you, but Thor's voice boomed again, this time with the wisdom of an older brother.

“Loki,” The blonde began, his tone shifting from concern to a rare, heartfelt sincerity, “I understand why you’re frustrated. But if you wish to court her, there are better ways than to rile her up like this. Annoyance is not an effective courting method, no matter how clever you think yourself for your strategy.”

The tension in the shower cabinet escalated, the air thick with the weight of Thor’s words. Loki’s posture stiffened immediately, his body rigid as he struggled to hide his surprise. You could not keep your mouth from hanging open, your head tilting as you processed what had just been revealed.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed with equal parts of incredulity and amusement.

Thor, completely oblivious to the storm he’d just unleashed, barreled on with the kind of brotherly advice only he could deliver, his voice booming in that way only he could manage. “I thought I made it clear in our previous talk, brother—though, granted, I had to drag it out of you. You’re not exactly being sneaky about it, too. The way you look at her, the way you seem to enjoy making her miserable... everyone sees it. If you just—”

“Thor!” Loki’s voice cracked with a mix of frustration and alarm, the sharp command of his words cutting through the tension like a hot knife.

The silence that followed was thick with disbelief. You blinked up at the raven-haired, your mind reeling as the puzzle pieces finally fit together. A slow, teasing smile spread across your face as realization hit you like a freight train.

“Oh,” you breathed, your voice dripping with amusement. “Oh. So that’s why you’re always so intent on being a pain in my ass.”

Loki’s eyes flashed with a mixture of panic and irritation as he turned to face you, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. “Don’t,” he warned, his lips curling into a thin, controlled line.

But you couldn’t help yourself. “You’ve got a thing for me,” you teased, your grin widening as you soaked in the rare sight of discomfort on his usually composed face. “All this time, all that effort to drive me insane... You’ve been pining.”

“Enough,” Loki snarled, but the faint flush creeping up his sharp cheekbones betrayed him, the evidence of his secret feelings undeniable.

You pulled back just enough, your heart swelling with quiet triumph as you observed Loki’s reaction. It was finally clear—those confusing, gnawing feelings you’d been battling were, in fact, reciprocated. It wasn’t your mind playing games anymore. Loki didn’t harbor any malicious intent toward you; in reality, he’d been concealing something far deeper, something that only served to heighten your sense of victory. The tension between you wasn’t just a fleeting sensation but something more tangible, and you were savoring every second of it.

With that newfound confidence, you couldn’t resist the temptation to push further, to enjoy the power you now held over him. You leaned in, your lips brushing lightly against his ear, your voice dropping to a husky whisper. “So, tell me, Loki... How does it feel to know that I’ve figured you out?”

Your smirk spread across your face as you watched his flushing slowly deepen at each passing second and crept on his neck, a reaction that only invigorated you in your ministrations. You couldn’t help yourself—your lips found that sensitive spot on his neck, pressing a soft bite to it before pulling away with a gentle tug. His sharp inhale sent a ripple of satisfaction through you, knowing you were pushing him to his limits.

The Asgardian groaned under his breath, clearly frustrated by the way you were toying with him. His hand shot out in an almost frantic motion, wrapping around your wrist in a tight grip, trying to halt your relentless teasing. But you weren’t about to give up that easily.

Just as the tension between the two of you seemed to reach its breaking point, Thor’s booming voice pierced the charged air. “Just admit it, brother,” he bellowed with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “For once, be honest with her. Or at least do something about it.”

Loki's eyes blazed with a storm of annoyance and something much deeper—something he was not ready to divulge. His glance moved briefly from you to his brother, who was waiting outside the cabin, as if looking for an escape. But before he could respond, Thor had turned on his heel and proceeded to walk away, his footsteps thudding in the distance. "By Odin’s beard," Thor said quietly, frustrated. "I should've known you'd be this stubborn."

You couldn't resist the ultimate tease. With a jostling, even predatory grin curving at the corners of your lips, you pushed in closer, your breath warm against his skin. The pause stretched between you two, charged and oppressive, with only the sound of his rapid breath breaking the quiet. It was an intimate game, and you could see he knew it. "You still don't refute it. I win, Loki," you taunted, your words flowing with pleasure. "And to seal it... how about I mark my victory?"

You drew him in, your hands resting on his shoulders as your lips touched the contour of his neck again, pressing them firmly against the warm flesh, taking a slow, purposeful suck, the sensation of his pulse beneath your lips instilling a sense of accomplishment in you. With a fleeting flash of wickedness, your fangs sank into the fragile skin, leaving a mark—a brilliant, scarlet memento of your victory. His sharp, involuntary inhalation was delicious, and the sound just heightened your ecstasy. You could feel the strength flow through you, intoxicated with satisfaction.

The instant the mark was left, you pulled away, watching with relish as Loki’s chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven breaths. His eyes flashed with something sharp—irritation—but beneath it, there was something far deeper, more turbulent. You knew then you had crossed the line, and yet you were far from regretting it.

Before you could draw another breath, Loki's hand sped at you like a flash of lightning. His fingers pressed hard over your lips, suppressing any response before it could occur. "Silence, you nuisance," he rasped, his voice low and filled with barely restrained tension.

Your pulse increased, not from fear but from the palpable rush of adrenaline coursing through you. But before you could gather your thoughts, his other hand moved possessively beneath your thigh and hip, bringing you even closer to him. His hold was startlingly strong—firm and commanding—and his body pressed you into the corner with overpowering ferocity. The heat emanating from him was burning.

You attempted to speak, to resist, but the words died on your lips, muffled beneath his fingers as he kept you silent. His gaze latched on yours with such intensity that it made your chest tighten, the weight of his stare like a storm rising inside his eyes. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his jaw clenched, and the barely contained frustration flowing from him. "I will not tolerate being toyed with, pet." 

His words were clipped and authoritative, his voice razor-sharp, but the fire in his eyes screamed of a very different yearning. His breath came in quick spikes, and despite his pretending poise, the intensity in his stare revealed all. "You cannot tease and tempt, only to leave me wanting. Not anymore."

Cool air kissed your exposed skin and you shivered, torn between the urge to squirm away and arch into his touch. "I want you silent, obedient—just how I like it. You’ll let me have my way, won’t you?" he hushed, his lips brushing your ear. "Mh, yes, you will. I'm going to take what I want from this tight little body, fill you up, and fuck this insolent mouth shut. Perhaps you'll finally learn your place, pet."

He nipped sharply at the shell of your ear before trailing kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat. His touch left a blaze of heat in its wake and your pulse thundered beneath his lips. Loki's palm cupped your breast, calloused fingers tweaking your nipple and making you effectively scream under his palm, heaving for air.

"Don’t make a sound," he commanded, pinching the sensitive bud. "Or I’ll make sure you regret it."

His hand then slid between your bodies, palming your mound in a possessive and hastened way, making you gasp against his hand. "No need for words, my sweet. I know exactly what you need. So pathetic for me, aren’t you? You love being used, you filthy thing."

He groaned at the visceral grip you exerted on him at his words, hilting himself fully in a deep thrust before slowly pulling back until just the tip remained and slamming in again, resetting into his brutal pace. His thumb hurridly nudged your bud, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves and forcing a choked sound from you. Your back bowed as another powerful moan bubbled up and got caught behind his palm, tears starting to build at the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations.

"Mm, so tight and responsive," Loki purred, moving his fingers steadily. Sweat beaded on his brow from the exertion, hair wild and fanning around him. "Built for my cock and eager to be stuffed full. Gonna fuck you until you can't walk straight and ruin this needy cunt." Loki's fingers dug into your hips harshly enough to bruise as he used the grip to piston in and out of you. His pubic bone ground against your clit with every thrust, stoking the fire building in your core. 

The obscene squelch of your arousal filled the air, punctuated by your muffled cries. Loki set a punishing pace, pulling filthy sounds from your throat as his grip on your thigh tightened, blunt nails biting into your skin, before hauling you down on his length in one brutal thrust.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, rolling his hips to bury himself even deeper. "Listen to you mewl so sweetly for me. I've created such a perfect cock sleeve."

He plundered your mouth in a filthy kiss, his tongue dominating yours and swallowing your whimpers. Angling his hips, he hit that spot inside that made you see stars. Seeing you recoil so much at the intense pleasure you were experiencing, he set his pace to an even more merciless one, slamming into you with deep, pounding thrusts. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed lewdly through the space. He drove into you with single-minded focus, each stroke hitting that spot inside that rendered you utterly speechless.

"Take it," he snarled, fingers tangling in your hair to wrench your head back. "Take my cock like an obedient little toy."

His teeth sank into your pulse point, marking you and claiming you. His words, filthy and crass, pushed you higher. Loki's grip on you bordered on bruising as he used your body with single-minded focus. Sweat slicked your skin and his cock throbbed inside you, stretching you wide. The pressure built at the base of your spine, coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped.

You came in a squirt and with a broken shout, vision whitening out at the edges as he fucked you through it. Your clenching walls dragged Loki with you, his cock twitching and spilling deep. His rhythm faltered, signaling his impending release. With a throaty moan of your garbled name, he buried himself to the root and painted your insides with thick ropes of seed.

Loki's eyes fluttered shut in bliss but his fingers kept up their sweet torture, wringing out your peak. You clenched around him, whining breathlessly into his palm as ecstasy crashed over the both of you again and again in waves. He collapsed against you, pinning you to the wall with his weight, chest heaving. 

Loki gentled his grip to smooth caresses, soothing the welts on your back and thigh. "There you go," he murmured, nuzzling your throat and planting a flurry of small kisses there. "My good girl. You did so well."

⠀

⠀

The room enveloped you in a cloud of warmth as you gradually regained consciousness, your body heavy and relaxed, draped in the pleasant haze of post-pleasure languor. A gentle weight rested on your chest, the traces of delightful exhaustion hugging you like an embrace. For a long, indulgent moment, everything felt impossibly soft, the lines of reality blurred, and the only thing keeping you in the present was the constant thrum of your pulse, which grounded you in this calm cocoon.

You blinked several times, attempting to dispel the fog that had obscured your vision, but all you saw was a twisted blend of images, like if you had awoken from an enticing dream. The sheets beneath you were pleasantly warm, their comforting heaviness coiled around your limbs, and the familiar aroma of wood, leather, and a distinct, seductive hint of him permeated the air, grounding you in the present.

As your senses gradually sharpened, you felt a gentle caress across your back—his fingers drifting lazily up and down, the motion slow and deliberate. Each stroke of his touch was like a salve, lulling you into deeper relaxation and smoothing away whatever tension had clung to you. It was a calming presence, a reminder of his closeness and concern, an unexpected tenderness that contrasted dramatically with the intensity of what had just occurred between you.

"You're awake," The god's voice shattered the silence, as rich and sweet as it always was, but with an obvious softness. It wasn't his usual mocking tone. His remarks had an almost protective ring to them, and his voice was vulnerable, revealing a part of himself that was rarely seen. "How are you feeling?"

You swallowed, trying to clear your head from the residue of the overwhelming sensations. "A bit... disoriented," you mumbled, your voice scratchy from more than just sleep. You cleared your throat, hoping to dispel the remaining fog in your thoughts. "And fuzzy. But, um, good." Despite the haze on your mind, you managed a little, happy smile, savoring the lingering warmth and contentment that remained in your chest after the tremendous experience.

Loki's low chuckle sent shivers down your spine, a sound that was both soothing and thrilling. "Good girl," he muttered, his voice full of satisfaction and something more. His fingers, warm and steady, moved slowly and soothingly across your skin, sending waves of heat wherever they touched. The way he treated you was almost reverent, in stark contrast to the ferocious, desperate energy that had driven the previous moments. It was as if he was giving you time to recover, giving you a moment of quiet after everything had happened.

You shifted slightly, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze, still awash in the softness of the moment. "What about the gym?" you asked, your voice still drowsy from the effects. Your mind was still trying to catch up with the events that had unfolded, unsure of what had happened afterward. Loki’s eyes, though, glimmered with that familiar mischief, but there was no trace of the usual arrogance or playful smugness in his expression. He seemed... softer, less guarded.

"Ah, yes." Loki’s lips curled into a knowing smile, his gaze briefly flicking to the side in that way he had when he was about to reveal something more. "I took care of it. Told the others you weren’t feeling well from the lack of sleep and all that hard work." His fingers slid up your spine with a deliberate slowness, sending a ripple of warmth through your body. "You’re skipping the session for today, love."

The new nickname caught you off guard, warmth flooding your cheeks as a faint blush spread across your face. You let out a faint huff, still enjoying the comfy haze he had left you in. "You really have a way with the others." The remarks were smooth, almost dreamy, as you stared up at him, taken aback by how easily he had maneuvered the situation.

Loki's eyes softened for a minute, and you caught a glimpse of sincerity in his expression—something you rarely saw from him. "What can I say? I'm quite persuasive when I need to be." His voice was light, yet it had an edge to it, a taunting tone that hinted at the mischief he still harbored inside. But behind that, you sensed something more—a gentle compassion that had gradually developed between you two.

You couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected depth of the moment. It was clear now—beneath the arrogance, the teasing, and the endless games, Loki had always been more than the persona he projected. He was letting you see him in a way few others ever did. And for the first time, it felt like you were witnessing a version of Loki that wasn’t built on defense or pride, but one that was simply... normal, almost human if you dared to say.

For what seemed like an eternity, the two of you stood in the gentle calm of the room, the weight of your talk settling like a silent storm in the air between you. Your body was utterly at rest, every muscle relaxed and delightfully satisfied, but your mind was starting to catch up with the whirlwind of events. The tension, yearning, pull, and push all returned, along with a gnawing sense that refused to go away. Something deeper, unresolved, began to claw at your thoughts, compelling you to speak.

You broke the silence with a tentative yet forceful tone. "Loki," you started, the words feeling heavier than you expected. "Why did all of this happen? The competition, the mocking, the... push and pull. Why struggle for unwanted attention when you could have just remained normal? Confess like a regular person and save us both the hassle?"

Loki's lips quirked into a half-hearted smirk, yet there was something about it that indicated the inquiry had struck a chord. He leaned back, his stance comfortable yet guarded, his arms crossed in a defensive gesture as he looked at you. His eyes were piercing, but there was a hint of something else behind them. "Ah, the eternal question," he groaned dramatically, his sarcastic tone concealing a hint of discomfort. "Why indeed? At first, I thought you were really irritating. Dreadfully so. I thought—" He paused, letting out an exaggerated sigh and adopting a mockingly dramatic tone. "I figured taking you down a peg or two would be an excellent way to pass the time. You were just too confident for my liking."

Your brow raised, and a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, but your gaze was somehow amused and curious. "So, you just wanted to ruin my self-esteem?" You taunted, but a part of you was beginning to sense something deeper underlying his remarks.

Loki grinned grimly, shaking his head, as if dismissing a stupid idea. "It wasn't about damaging it, more like taming it." His gaze shifted to you with a fascinating sparkle. "Or at least, that's what I told myself at the time." His voice softened, the sarcasm still but now infused with vulnerability, an unexpected honesty that cut through his bravado.

"But then, something changed." He paused, his gaze intensifying as he appeared to ruminate on the change that had occurred. "I started to notice things about you. Small things." His statements were calm and thoughtful. "I got more attentive. And, as you heard, it wasn't long until I fell for you. Despite my better judgment."

You stayed silent for a time, allowing the weight of his confession to settle in. The taunting and antagonizing had not been intended to break you down. It was his method of protecting himself, pushing you away to avoid confronting thoughts he didn't know how to address. Finally, your voice became softer and quieter as the realization settled in like a gentle tide. "So, all of it... was just your way of dealing with feelings you didn't want to admit to?"

Loki's eyes shone with a mix of laughter and something far more sincere than you were used to seeing from him. "I suppose I've never been one to handle my emotions well," he replied, his sarcasm still present but tempered with a reluctant honesty that caught you off guard. "It's so much easier to build a game out of it, right? Poking, probing, and playing with rivalries."

You leaned back against the bed, fingers running a gentle path across his chest, a grin curving on your lips as you took in his words. "I think we've both been playing games, Loki," you quietly said, the truth sinking in in an oddly comforting way. "But maybe... just maybe, we've both gotten a little too good at it."

Loki's hand reached up, stroking a stray strand of hair away from your face, his fingertips soft on your skin. He met your stare with an intensity you weren't used to, and for the first time, his comments were free of ridicule and teasing. Simply unvarnished honesty. "Perhaps," he said, his voice faint but steady. "Perhaps, darling, we both need to stop pretending."

As the lingering warmth of the moment enveloped you, your mind began to put things together. You gradually became aware of features that had previously gone unnoticed—the soft sheets underneath you, the familiar aroma of Loki's chamber, the fact that you were no longer in the same spot. Something was wrong, but in the cloud of your bliss, you couldn't pinpoint it until now.

You blinked, furrowing your brow as the truth of your circumstances gradually dawned on you. "Wait a second. Where are we?" you questioned just to get a confirmation, seeming perplexed. It was as if a fog had lifted from your thoughts, and everything seemed a little more... lucid.

Loki's lips twisted into a half-smile, his eyes gleaming with his signature mischief. "We're in my room, darling," he replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. "Isn't it comfortable?"

You looked about, your gaze drawn to the familiar walls, the luxurious bed, and the exquisite details. Then you gazed down at yourself and Loki, both in little more than the aftermath of your desire. Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn't help but exclaim, still in shock, "Our clothes... How did we get here?"

Loki's smile developed into a knowing smirk. "I teleported us, of course," he said with pride in his voice. "I stored our clothes in my dimension pocket to avoid any awkward situations."

The knowledge hit you like a flash of lightning, and before you could stop yourself, you softly slapped his chest, your eyes widening in surprise and delight. "You could've done that from the start?" You lifted an eyebrow, annoyance tinged with laughter. "Instead of risking being caught by the others? Oh my God, you really enjoy the drama, do you?"

Loki's eyes flashed with a familiar playful glimmer as he seized your hand in midair, his grip gentle yet solid. "Now, don't call me in vain. And where's the fun in doing so?" He teased, his voice full of amusement. "I could not resist you, dearest. Watching you squirm and get caught up in our little tryst was far more entertaining."

You removed your hand from his grip, preparing to deliver him another fun slap across the chest. But he was decidedly faster than you expected. He was on top of you in an instant, softly pinning you to the bed. The weight of his body was warm and reassuring, but there was a palpable energy in the air between you. 

Loki's grin faded somewhat, his lips curling up into his distinctive half smile, but his eyes became more intense. He drew in closer, his breath murmuring across your neck, sending thrills down your spine. "You know," he mumbled, his voice falling an octave, tinged with laughter and something deeper. "I do love how you keep me on my toes." He paused, his eyes probing yours with such intensity that the air between you felt thicker and more intimate. For a heartbeat, his expression became serious, as if a ray of weakness burst through the walls he'd carefully placed around himself. "And, as much as I tease..." His lips hovered near your ear, just touching it as he said. "I would not change a single bit of it."

The weight of his words fell on you like a warm blanket, stirring something deep inside. Your chest clenched slightly, not because of discomfort but because you realized this was more than just fun banter. His earnestness hit you harder than you expected, and you struggled to match the vulnerability in his stare. You inhaled deeply and felt your pulse beat steadily under his, your chest rising and falling in time. 

In that short second, the tension between you two shifted, as if all the walls you'd been meticulously erecting came tumbling down in an unsaid acknowledgement. Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a slow, deliberate kiss that was soft and tender—there was no haste, no urgency, only a delicate desire to close the gap between you. Your lips molded against his with unexpected tenderness, and the kiss was languid, as if savoring every fleeting second.

You wrapped your arms around Loki slowly, almost intuitively, dragging him closer until there was no more space between your bodies. The sensation of his chest on yours, combined with the rhythm of your hearts beating together, intensified the moment. Your cheeks heated, and warmth crept throughout your body as the fuzzy, heady sensation of intimacy rushed over you. Every breath you took appeared to match his, slow and steady, as if time itself had slowed only to allow you to enjoy this connection.

His hands glided down your body with careful slowness, caressing your sides before settling on your exposed waist. The touch sent a bolt of heat through you, and you could feel your muscles relax under his palms. The way he touched you was almost reverent, as if he was remembering the feel of your skin and the warmth of your body on his own. His hands, large and solid, held your waist just enough to draw you closer, a quiet encouragement to press further into him.

The kisses that followed were gentle and languid, exchanged with a calm passion. They weren't hasty or desperate; rather, they were an unspoken discussion, a gentle admission of all you hadn't said. Every brush of his lips on yours felt like a promise, each kiss deeper than the last, as if you were both pouring your entire being, every emotion, into that simple, leisurely exchange.

You could feel everything—his warmth, his kindness, the way he held you so tightly, as if he was terrified you might slip away. And as you kissed him, your emotions spilled out without words. Each kiss, each sweet touch, represented a confession, a surrender to what had always existed between you. The world outside appeared to blur and vanish, leaving only the sound of your breathing, the beat of your hearts, and the soft touch of your lips against each other.

It was the kind of kiss that could convey so much without saying anything. Each slow, deliberate movement of your lips conveyed a secret promise, an unspoken statement of everything you had shared and what was to come. The kiss lingered for so long that it seemed like time had stretched and warped around the two of you.

When you eventually pushed away, the space between you seemed impossibly little. Your foreheads rested together, breath mingling, eyes closed as you both cherished the closeness—the quiet realization that you no longer required words to express the feelings that had developed between you. It was a rare moment of calm in the midst of the insanity that had led you here. In that small, personal place, you both simply basked in the silence, far away from the complete chaos of outside. The loud clang of weights, the grunts and shouts echoing from the gym, the gossip and chatter, and the sterile buzz of the fluorescent lights all felt like they now belonged to a different world—a world far removed from the intimate bubble you had found in each other’s presence.

Loki's voice cut through the peaceful silence that had surrounded the two of you, its lighthearted tone still tinged with that mischievous sparkle. "I recall," he began, the words flowing effortlessly as a mischievous smile flickered across his lips, "that I did mention earlier that I was interested in trying creatine, just like you were."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of humor and caution in your eyes. "Oh? And how are you going to test it?” Your comments were laced with playful sarcasm, and your head tilted as you observed him.

Loki's eyes darkened briefly with a hint of something deeper before he leaned in just enough to close the gap between you, his voice lowering into a near whisper, laced with an unmistakable teasing. "Well, my love," he purred, his grin expanding into something both menacing and knowing. "I was considering experiencing it, but in a manner more... tailored to my preferences." His eyes gleamed with wicked pleasure, the sensuous undertone of his voice quickening your pulse, the warmth of his words raising a heat to your cheeks.

You couldn't help but laugh, your body quaking slightly at the sound. "You're insatiable," you remarked, rolling your eyes in mock irritation. "At least give me the time to recover. You fucked me to the point of unconsciousness, for God’s sake."

"And for my sake, I need to have you on my tongue and figure out what's so appealing about the substance," he answered snarkily, his voice heavy with intent, low and tempting. "And you, my darling, are the most appealing thing I have ever tasted." His eyes moved over you, maintaining a feverish intensity as he continued. "Believe me when I say that I'm far from the type to turn away from something that keeps pulling me back."

The words wrapped around you like silk, sending shivers through your body and causing your heart to flutter unexpectedly. Without a beat, Loki's grin broadened into something devilishly attractive, and he vanished beneath the blankets. With a dramatic sigh, you fell back into the bed, allowing your head to smash with the pillow as you attempted to conceal the fluttering in your chest. A deep sigh escaped your lips, muffled by the softness of the pillow. "You're ridiculous," you whispered, eyes pressed shut as you tried to cool the heat on your face.

Loki's laughter echoed from beneath the covers, simultaneously reassuring and infuriating, a duality that only he could create. For a minute, you lay motionless, the cadence of his laughter filling the gap between you and the warmth of his voice resting in your consciousness. Despite your displeasure, a sweet, amused smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you basked in the attention as a whimper escaped you.

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BONUS:

The following Friday, the Avengers had gathered around the shake counter, the lively hum of chatter filling the air as they nibbled on snacks and leisurely sipped their drinks. It had been a while since they’d all been in one place, and the usual easy camaraderie was in full swing—banter, sarcastic quips, and the occasional jabs exchanged between friends. The familiar energy buzzed around them like static, grounding them in a rare moment of calm amidst the chaos of their lives.

Clint leaned back against the counter, throwing a pretzel stick into his mouth with the kind of casual grace only he could pull off. “Has anyone heard from our favorite power couple lately?” he asked, glancing at Tony with an eyebrow raised. “I mean, seriously, they’ve been off the radar. It’s like they’ve vanished into thin air. Did they go on some kind of 'relationship retreat’ or something? Maybe they’re on a spa vacation, enjoying massages and arguing over who gets the last cucumber slice for their eyes.”

Natasha rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smirk as she turned toward Steve. “Wait, hold up,” she said, her tone dripping with mock incredulity. “You’re telling me Loki and [Y/N] have gone full stealth mode? What’s the matter? Did they finally have a 'moment’ and decide to go off the grid?”

Bruce, grumbling into his cup, seemed less amused. “I haven’t heard a peep from either of them. Last time they spoke to me, it was one of those ‘personal apologies’ for... well, everything,” he said with a grimace, clearly uncomfortable recalling the exchange. “If they’ve decided to disappear, I can’t say I blame them. That whole thing was... intense.”

Thor, his enthusiasm for shakes unrestrained, paused mid-sip at the mention of Loki. “Ah, well, I did see my brother not too long ago,” he said, his voice rising with the energy of someone sharing a truly remarkable tale. “It was on the day of their punishment. He was showering in the locker room, talking to me, and he mentioned something curious. Something about how Lady [Y/N] couldn’t ‘handle him’ and had ‘fled the scene.’” He paused for dramatic effect. “It was a bit strange, really. He said it with such intensity, like he had just fought a battle... and lost.”

The group fell into a brief silence, all eyes on Thor. “Wait, what?” Sam asked, narrowing his eyes. “Loki... said what now?”

Thor, scratching his chin as though trying to decode the bizarre conversation, recalled, “Well, he said something about her not being able to ‘keep up’ with him and that she had ‘run away’ after a particularly... frustrating session. Something about how she ‘gave up,’ as if... as if she couldn't handle the storm that is Loki.” Thor frowned, clearly baffled. “He seemed... upset. And, well, I couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t frustration, but maybe... regret?”

Tony, ever the expert in reading between the lines, exchanged a look with Sam. “Oh, this is rich,” Tony said, his tone laced with an all-knowing grin. “Sounds to me like we’re talking about a little friendly bet that went way past ‘friendly.’ Reindeer Game’s ego must’ve gotten bruised, and now he’s having a ‘moment.’” He leaned in, glancing at the others with mischief gleaming in his eyes. “I’ll let you all figure out the details, but I have no doubt that this is some kind of... interesting conclusion to a very personal wager.”

Sam’s grin widened, his eyes twinkling with the anticipation of what was to come. “Yeah, their little disappearing act? Safe to say, something went down. I’m guessing it got a little more... hands-on than either of them intended.”

Clint raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Wait, wait. We’re seriously going to start speculating about their love life right now? Have you all lost your minds?”

Wanda, who had been silently watching, suddenly leaned in with a devilish grin. “Oh, it’s way too easy not to,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “Come on, guys, who do you think won the bet? Who do you think really gave in first?” She glanced between Natasha, Bucky, and Thor, her smile widening. “I’m putting my money on Team [Y/N]. Loki couldn’t handle the heat, and I’m betting he cracked first.”

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Team [Y/N], no question. Loki’s pride is a glass house—it didn’t stand a chance. He probably broke first. I mean, come on. He’s Loki.”

Steve shook his head with a bemused smile tugging at his lips. “I’m not so sure. I think he’s got more... staying power than we give him credit for. I wouldn’t be surprised if she just snapped under the pressure.” He paused for effect, his grin widening. “Loki’s a lot of things, but he’s not easily outdone.”

Clint smirked. “So we’re all just gonna ignore the fact that this was, what, a long time coming? I mean, did anyone not see this coming?”

Tony leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded the group with a knowing look. “I’m thinking if things went down the way I suspect, the real question is: who’s gonna be the first to fess up and admit they lost?” He raised an eyebrow. “And by the way, if it did go down the way we’re all thinking, I don’t think this was just a one-time thing. You don’t come back for seconds after a loss like that unless something really went down.”

Sam’s eyes gleamed with barely contained amusement. “Yeah, because honestly, if it was just a one-off, they wouldn’t be acting all... mysterious like this. There’s gotta be more to the story, right?”

Thor, ever the literal one, scratched his head, clearly puzzled by the specifics of the conversation. “I still believe my brother was... deeply disturbed by the events. He spoke as if something was very wrong. His words were... peculiar.” Thor furrowed his brow, a genuine concern crossing his face. “Perhaps I misunderstood, but he did seem upset, almost as though he regretted something.”

Bucky chuckled, clearly relishing the chaos around him. “We’ll see, big guy. You might be surprised. Things might not have gone the way you think.”

The gym was a whirlwind of activity, the sound of clanking weights and the occasional grunt reverberating off the walls, creating an atmosphere of focused chaos. In the midst of all this, the group was embroiled in their usual banter about the infamous bet. A debate was unfolding at lightning speed, the team divided and passionate, but then, like a couple of silent, mischievous storms, you and Loki casually entered the fray—synchronized, nonchalant, as though nothing of consequence had occurred moments before.

You and Loki walked into the room in matching gym gear—of course you did. A polished ensemble of sleek black and dark green athletic wear that clung to both of your figures with uncanny precision. His dark cloak, while still evident in the folds of his attire, seemed to blend effortlessly with the modern, athletic aesthetic of your matching outfits. It was almost as if you two had coordinated—though honestly, it felt more like a quiet extension of a bond that had formed through other means, and had yet to be fully explored.

Loki, as effortlessly charming as ever, strolled up to the team with a playful, easy grin plastered on his face. His steps were purposeful, but his confidence was what caught the eye—his hair swept back with practiced grace. He brushed an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder, a picture of casual elegance. “Ah, my favorite, unwanted little band of misfits, all gathered in one place,” he said, his voice oozing with faux warmth and grace.

His eyes flickered toward you, and his smile turned into something more teasing, more dangerous. He stepped closer to your side, never missing a beat. “Forgive me, darling,” he said, reaching out with exaggerated gentleness to kiss your hand. “It’s truly a pleasure to be in such fine company.”

You didn’t flinch as his lips brushed your hand. Instead, you gave him a knowing look, the corners of your lips curling upward as you allowed the kiss. You even gave his fingers a playful squeeze before responding smoothly. “Always a pleasure, my prince,” you said with a tone that was just as cordial, just as cool as his—if not slightly more mischievous.

The team stared at you both, clearly shocked by the fluid, casual nature of it all. Their curiosity was practically radiating, and it didn’t take long for the inevitable question to emerge.

Sam, never one to let something this good slide, leaned forward, his eyebrow raised in that signature way. “Alright, we’ve gotta know—who gave in first?” His voice was laced with amusement, and the grin on his face only deepened as he watched the dynamic between the two of you.

Loki, always one for theatrics, raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, clearly enjoying this. “Ah, you’re eager to know, aren’t you? Well, darling, please, do tell—who was the first to give in?” His voice was light, playful, and oh-so-seductive, but there was something affectionate behind it.

You didn’t hesitate, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you shot him a look. “I mean,” you began, your voice cool but dripping with mischief, “he did kiss me first.”

Loki’s eyes widened, his face twisting in mock horror. He sputtered, looking flustered for a split second. “W-What? You—” He shook his head, clearly not prepared for that revelation. “I was merely being—polite,” he stammered, trying to regain control of the situation, though his voice faltered slightly.

The Avengers burst into laughter, clearly enjoying the unexpected twist. Tony, unable to resist, leaned in with a grin that could only be described as mischievous. “Uh-huh, polite? Sure. Polite enough to kiss her on the lips? Interesting choice, big guy.”

Loki’s expression twisted into one of exaggerated disbelief, though he tried to hide his flustered state with a mock-serious tone. “I did not forfeit,” he retorted, arms crossing defensively. “I simply... allowed you the chance to realize you were outmatched. It was a strategic choice.”

The Avengers exchanged glances, clearly struggling to hold back their laughter. “Strategic choice, huh?” Sam snorted, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Come on, dude. Just admit it—you gave in first. Let’s put us all out of our misery.”

Bucky, who had been quietly enjoying the back-and-forth, couldn’t resist. “Team [Y/N] wins,” he said, smirking. “Loki cracked first. Didn’t stand a chance.” He winked at you, clearly proud of how the tables had turned.

Loki, however, wasn’t ready to give up so easily. “Fine,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “If we’re going to be completely honest, then yes... you could say I... yielded. In my own way.” He shot you a mischievous smirk before turning back to the group with an exaggerated bow. “But let it be known, she gave in first as well. I merely responded to her... advances.”

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. “Oh, did I?” you teased, your voice laced with sarcasm. “I must’ve missed that part of the story, Loki.” You winked at him playfully. “But it’s true, we both gave in, and neither of us won the bet.”

The Avengers groaned in unison, clearly exasperated. “Seriously?” Natasha muttered, her voice flat. “You two can’t even make up your minds?”

Clint smirked, his eyes sparkling with humor. “Yeah, you’re both terrible at this. Either you both lost, or you both won. Pick one.”

Thor, confused by all the back-and-forth, raised a hand as if to settle the matter. “This is ridiculous. Why not settle this debate like warriors? A trial of strength or… style in your case, perhaps?” His booming voice carried an earnestness that made everyone pause—until Tony burst out laughing.

“Oh, yeah, because we all want to see them spar or whatever weird Asgardian thing you’re imagining,” Tony quipped, shaking his head. “No thanks, Point Break. Let’s keep it simple: they just need to decide. Right now. No dodging.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, smirking. “You heard the man. You’ve got ten seconds to give us a straight answer, or we’re voting on it ourselves.”

Loki’s expression darkened slightly, his sharp gaze flicking to you as though daring you to speak first. “You can’t seriously expect us to entrust the outcome of this bet to these mortals,” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “They’re biased.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a grin. “Biased against you, you mean,” you shot back, earning a round of snickers from the team.

Steve, ever the mediator, held up a hand. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s make this simple: each of you gets one last chance to argue your side. Short and sweet. Then we’re done. Deal?”

“Deal,” you said instantly, giving Loki a smug look. “Let’s hear it, Loki. Defend your honor.”

Loki straightened, smoothing down his shirt with exaggerated elegance. “Very well. If I must. It’s abundantly clear that I—magnanimous as ever—showed remarkable restraint in allowing her to pursue her affections first.” He paused dramatically, his voice smooth and dripping with mock sincerity. “Her insistence on denying this was, frankly, as adorable as it is predictable.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Oh, give me a break. If anyone was pursuing anyone, it was you. You’re the one who couldn’t stop making dramatic entrances and throwing around dirty pickup lines like confetti.”

Sam and Tony let out loud, exaggerated ohs, while Clint pretended to fan himself. “Spicy,” he muttered, grinning.

Natasha, smirking, looked between the two of you. “Alright, let’s cut to the chase. Did either of you actually win this bet, or are we stuck with a stalemate forever?”

Before you could answer, Loki leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “We both know the answer, darling,” he murmured, his lips twitching into a smirk. “But if you insist on denying it, I suppose I can share the victory. For now.”

You arched an eyebrow, your own smile forming as you replied softly, “Fine by me, as long as you don’t mind losing gracefully.”

The group groaned again as you and Loki finally turned back to them, both of you speaking at once.

“It’s a tie.”

Natasha threw up her hands, walking off with a muttered “Unbelievable.” Tony clapped his hands together. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

“Not surprising, though,” Sam added, leaning back with a smirk. “I give it two weeks before one of you cracks again and we’re back to this same conversation.”

Loki’s grin was wolfish as he looked at you. “Two weeks? Oh, I give it far less time than that.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, your competitive streak sparking back to life. “Careful, Loki. That sounds like the start of another bet.”

Steve, ever the responsible leader, clapped his hands loudly, cutting through the laughter and banter. “Alright, enough messing around. Gym time. Everyone, get to training. Now.”

A collective groan echoed through the gym as the Avengers reluctantly began to disperse. Sam muttered something under his breath about slave drivers, Clint whistled as he grabbed his bow, and Wanda rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Even Thor shrugged and ambled toward the weights, clearly unbothered by the sudden order.

But you and Loki lingered near the entrance, neither of you moving to join the others. His gaze flicked toward you, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “You’re positively ravishing today, darling,” he teased, his voice low and smooth. “Though I’m still waiting for you to admit defeat. Shall I give you another chance?”

You crossed your arms, though the heat creeping up your neck betrayed your composure. “Not happening, Princess. I think you’ve had enough ego boosts for this month.”

Loki chuckled softly, leaning just a fraction closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm. “Oh, I disagree. Perhaps one more would suffice.” His tone was playful but rich with unspoken promise, his smirk a little too pleased with itself.

Before you could quip back, Tony, halfway across the gym, turned suddenly on his heel and pointed a finger in your direction. “Hey, speaking of the two of you...” His voice carried, immediately drawing everyone’s attention again. “One of the agents made a call the other day. Said they found some liquid on one of the benches after you two ‘fixed’ the gym. Looked like coconut water or something.”

Your face instantly went scarlet, the heat spreading from your cheeks down your neck like wildfire. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but Loki, ever composed, beat you to it. With an easy grin, he slid an arm around your waist, his presence both steady and infuriatingly smug. “Ah, yes. That would be mine,” he said smoothly, his voice effortlessly cutting through the tension.

“Simply diluted creatine in water. And the best kind.”

⠀

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ending notes : I actually counted and the smut part, starting from Loki asking if [Y/N] was done with her tantrum to the end, is give or take 9850 words. LMAO

Also, the creatine part is something my ex actually told me to make advances on me. It's a real thing, look it up. :p

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PART ONE.⠀|⠀LAST PART.