#frostshield

Loki circled the room, his arms folded and his mouth set in a thin, hard line. The sound of his boots was muffled by the heavy carpet, but each footfall seemed to hammer at your already-frayed nerves.

You were kneeling at the edge of his bed, knees separated and sunk into soft, emerald velvet—the same color as the silk ropes that bound your hands and kept them locked behind your straightened back.

Also on the bed, directly across from you, was none other than Steven Rogers, the famed Captain America himself. His stance mirrored your own, but his eyes were downcast and his cheeks were stained a bright pink.

He always was the shy one, even after months of being with both you and Loki. It was one of the many things you and the God of Mischief loved about him.

Loki paused in front of you, and you felt the intense gaze of his bright green eyes on your exposed skin. You did not look up at him; instead, you kept your head down and your attention focused on the floor.

He chuckled, low and dark. Soon enough, you felt his hand slip under your chin to lift it up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“What is it, pet? Not feeling very talkative anymore?” His lips curved in a small smile, but the look in his eyes was the opposite of gentle. He was not pleased. “I do wonder where all that defiance went. All that bravado and snark you showed me during Stark’s party just minutes ago... gone.”

Despite yourself, you glared.

You had been dressed in a stunning gown, the kind that clung to every curve and shimmered under the lights like diamonds. The same gown that now lay forgotten in a crumpled pile near the door.

It was supposed to have been a simple celebration, something for the Avengers to attend, drink and unwind. And it had been, at first. You were able to enjoy the lavish food, dance with your boyfriends and laugh along with your teammates.

But those type of gatherings always grew boring as the night wore on, and as per routine, you found yourself looking for something—anything—that could entertain you. Even if that something meant pushing the buttons of a certain Norse god until he snapped.

“I mean, honestly, what were you hoping to accomplish? Did you think it wise to provoke me? To embarrass me, in front of those pathetic humans and my fool of a brother?”

He was angry, yes, but not only that. He was aroused. It was obvious by the way he was breathing, slow and deliberate. The way his fingers were gripping your jaw a little tighter than they needed to be.

He leaned down until his mouth was just inches from yours. The heat of his breath beat against your face, the faint scent of wine tickling your nose.

“Did you really think I would stand idly by and allow such an offense to go unpunished?”

No, your brain responded. Of course not. In fact, you had been counting on quite the opposite. You were a ‘glutton for punishment’, both Loki and Steve often said. And they were right.

There was something so exhilarating about making Loki angry. Because no matter how soft and gentle he was with you, no matter how much he cared for you and Steve, there was a part of him that would always be the God of Mischief. The part of him that loved nothing more than to cause chaos and trouble. And when you made him angry, that part was let loose. And you couldn't get enough of it.

Feeling bold, you flicked your tongue out and licked his bottom lip. Weaving your voice with a bit of innocence, you said, "Tied up and at your mercy. I am having trouble seeing the 'punishment' in this."

He pulled away, and for a brief moment you saw the slightest hint of surprise on his face. But the emotion vanished, and the smile returned.

Loki turned his attention to Steve, who was still avoiding eye contact. "Did you hear that, Steve? Our pet thinks she is being rewarded."

"Yes, sir." Steve's response was immediate, and the words seemed to tumble from his lips without thought.

"And what do you think, my love?" Loki reached out and brushed his knuckles along the man's cheek. The touch was featherlight, and Steve leaned into it. “Do you believe her actions warrant a reward?"

The blond finally lifted his gaze, and you were greeted with those stunning blue eyes that never failed to make your heart skip. Guilt and desire danced within their depths, and his next words were filled with nothing but shame.

"N-No, sir."

You felt your insides clench. He could always count on Steve to play the good, obedient boy.

"And why is that?"

“Because she… she was bad?” Steve hesitated, unsure if he was using the right words.

Always so innocent, even after all this time. Shy where you were brash. Gentle where you were rough. It was no wonder why Loki enjoyed torturing him as much as he enjoyed tormenting you. Except in Steve's case, the torment was more along the lines of teasing words and coaxing him to break out of his shell.

“Yes, that is right." Loki's fingers moved down Steve's neck, and a visible shudder coursed through the super soldier's body. “But not you, my sweet boy. You have been behaving quite nicely this evening."

Your eyes dropped to Steve’s cock, which was already at full attention. The head was flushed and glistening, and you had to resist the urge to crawl forward and take it in your mouth.

It was almost a crime, you thought, how attractive the man was. Not a single ounce of attention to his poor neglected dick yet he was already a twitching, quivering mess.

As if he read your mind, Loki circled the bed until he stood behind the other man. His hand slid down the muscular chest, farther and farther until his long fingers wrapped around Steve's thick length.

Steve moaned. His hips bucked forward, thrusting his cock into Loki's hand. The action earned him a slap to the thigh, causing him to immediately freeze.

"Keep still," Loki demanded, his tone firmer. "If you move again, I will stop. Do you understand?"

A whine slipped from Steve's lips. "Yes, sir."

In slow, lazy strokes, Loki pumped Steve's cock. Up and down, up and down, his hand moving at a pace so agonizingly slow that Steve's breaths became ragged.

Always so responsive. So sensitive.

"So eager," Loki purred, unintentionally finishing your thought. He turned his gaze to you, his thumb smearing a drop of precum over the tip. "I can feel him pulsing in my hand. Can you see it, darling?"

You could. It was a subtle thing, the way his cock twitched and throbbed every time Loki twisted his wrist just right. The way the thick vein on the underside of his shaft became more pronounced as his arousal grew.

It was maddening.

Your own sex clenched with want. Your thighs were slick with your juices, and your nipples had hardened to stiff peaks.

You wanted to be touched. You needed to be touched. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Not yet.

You tried to press your thighs together for some sort of friction, but the movement did not go unnoticed.

Loki’s eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip around the base of Steve's cock. A strangled moan tore from the blonde's lips, a sound so raw and needy that it made your stomach flutter.

“This is what a true reward looks like. Pure, unadulterated pleasure. My attention solely focused on the one person who is not being a brat." He paused, and a wicked grin stretched across his face. "I do believe he needs visual stimulation.”

You clenched your jaw, trying not to look too irritated. You knew exactly where this was going.

“Open them. Allow him to see your neglected cunt, wet and wanting.”

“No,” you said, the word slipping out before you could stop it. You hated how it sounded, how weak and breathless it was.

You squeezed your legs tighter together, desperately attempting to get a few more seconds of friction. Because it did not matter how defiant you acted, how stubborn you were—Loki would eventually get what he wanted.

"I believe that was not a request."

Steve groaned. His head fell forward, eyes half-lidded and dazed. "Please," he whispered.

Whether his plea was directed towards you or Loki, you weren't sure. Either way, it was the final straw.

As if invisible strings were pulling your limbs, your thighs opened, exposing the swollen, glistening flesh between. Loki's magic, forcing you to obey.

A choked whimper left Steve's mouth.

"Oh, what a sight." Loki leaned forward and rested his chin on Steve's shoulder. "You are not here for your own enjoyment, pet. You are here for his. This is his reward, after all."

It suddenly dawned on you just exactly how Loki planned to punish you.

Withdrawal.

Denial.

It would be an exquisite form of torture.

"Look at her," Loki murmured. "No more than an armslength away, yet her weeping little quim is still untouched. Still aching. And all because she decided to play a foolish game."

You didn't say anything. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, and a wave of frustration washed over you. This was not how things were supposed to go.

"She would have you inside her right this instant if she could. Such a shame that she is not allowed the privilege."

Bastard.

"Sir..."

Loki continued, unfazed by Steve's plea. "But you.. You will get what you desire. What is it you want, my sweet?"

Steve's throat bobbed, and he swallowed thickly. "I want..." He trailed off, struggling to find his words.

"Be honest," Loki said. "Speak your mind."

It was permission enough, and Steve spoke again, the words tumbling out in a rush.

"I want to feel her." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"What was that?" Loki cocked his head to the side. "I'm afraid I did not hear you."

You were almost positive the God of Mischief knew exactly what Steve had said, and was merely toying with him.

"I-I want to feel her. Her..."

Silence stretched out between the three of you, and then,

"Her cunt." Loki supplied, and you didn't miss how Steve's cock jerked at the word, nor how his face grew several shades darker. "Such a crude word, isn't it? Yet, I believe it is the perfect term for what lies between her legs. Why don't you say it?"

Steve's Adam's apple bobbed again. His lips parted, but nothing came out.

"Come now, Steve." Loki's tone was gentle. Coaxing. Underneath, though, was a hint of demand. He got off on this, pushing Steve's limits. "You have satisfied me thus far. Why stop now?"

The Captain took a deep breath.

"I want to feel her cu- her cunt."

"yes," Loki purred, and the praise was enough to make Steve's skin flush. "Now, ask me. Ask me if you can have her. And be polite."

You watched, completely enraptured by the scene before you. Your pulse pounded in your ears, and your core throbbed in time with the beat.

Steve lifted his head. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with arousal. He locked eyes with you, and you were sure you would have melted under the heat of that gaze.

The captain America everyone knew, the perfect hero and paragon of virtue and justice, gone. Replaced with this. A man completely drunk off pleasure. Knowing that you and Loki were the only two people to ever witness him in such a state, it was something you held close.

"May I... may I have her?" A pause, then a broken 'Please.'

Yes, you silently begged, as if Loki could hear your thoughts. Please.

Loki clicked his tongue.

"No."

Your stomach sank, and you felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over your head.

"N-No?" Steve stuttered. He turned his head, his confusion apparent.

"No." Loki's fingers danced up and down the length of Steve's cock, the featherlight touches surely driving him mad. "You said it yourself. She has not behaved."

"I—" Steve stopped, his brows knitting together. You could see the gears turning in his head. Spoiled thing that he was, he wasn't used to being denied. "But... you said this was a reward."

"And it is."

"But—"

"Steven."

The name, spoken with a hint of warning, silenced Steve instantly.

You could almost see the battle taking place in his mind, but any thought was cut short when Loki grabbed his chin and tilted his head back. Their mouths met, a messy kiss that was all tongues and teeth and pure, unrestrained desire.

A whimper tore from your throat, and you weren't sure if it was out of jealousy or the fact that your core ached with an almost painful need.

They looked absolutely beautiful together.

And they were both yours.

"Lo," you whined, hoping the nickname would win you some sympathy. It was a manipulative tactic, sure, but it usually worked. This time, however, Loki did not even glance in your direction. Instead, his lips curved up against Steve's, and you had the feeling he was smiling.

The two of them broke apart, their chests rising and falling as they sucked in ragged breaths.

Loki’s own erection was straining against his pants, the material clinging to his form in a way that was nothing less than sinful. You would have loved nothing more than to peel those pants off and run your tongue along every inch of his pale skin, but, considering you were still tied up, the odds of that happening were slim.

Who were you kidding? They were next to none.

“You are an asshole,” you growled, quickly falling out of the sweet act in record time.

Loki raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. Like a wolf dressed in a sheep's clothing.

"Am I?"

"Yes!"

A brief glimpse of that sardonic smile flitted across his features. "My, such a filthy mouth you have tonight, darling. Maybe I should remedy that."

Your gaze softened and your head tipped up, just slightly. Hopeful and expectant.

Anticipating.

Loki was a deceitful god, but he never lied to you. Especially when it came to punishment. There would be no chance he allowed you pleasure tonight, but maybe..

Maybe he would allow you to stuff your mouth with cock instead. At this point, humiliating as it was, you didn't give a damn which one delivered it.

But your hopes were dashed when he continued, "On second thought, that might not be a good idea. I believe I have one better."

You threw him an irritated look, followed by an even more unamused, "And what would that be?"

He did not answer right away. Instead, his attention moved to Steve, whose mouth was agape in awe. His pace quickened. Long, full strokes, from base to tip and down again. A flick of the wrist here, a teasing squeeze there, and, on occasion, Loki's thumb smeared beads of precum over the head and down the shaft.

Moans and whimpers and breathless little gasps filled the air.

God, how you longed to touch him. Both of them.

He was close. You knew his body well enough to spot all the indicators. The way it tightened and coiled before release. The way his brow knit together and his face twisted in an agonized expression that was a mixture of pure euphoria and pain. Occasionally, his hips would twitch, as if he were fighting the urge to thrust forward and meet the steady motion of Loki's fist.

“He is going to make a mess soon." Loki's voice was calm, the words spoken in a languid drawl. As if they were discussing the weather. "And if you behave yourself, I will allow you to clean my hand afterwards."

Fuck.

You could feel tears gathering in your eyes. Your own arousal was still burning, screaming for release, but it was buried under the absolute frustration at not being allowed to have that particular treat.

Never have you felt so needy in your life.

‘Fuck you,’ you wanted to scream. Or, at the very least, a creative string of words laced with insults and curses. Words so vulgar, you were quite certain if Steve heard them in a casual setting, he would have scolded you like a petulant child.

But the retort died on your tongue, swallowed down along with the lingering bits of your dignity. Desperate as it may be, you wanted at least a morsel of what you were being denied.

"Are you ready, my sweet?" Loki asked. It was, again, directed towards Steve, but the question made your back straighten, nonetheless.

“Yes." Another gasped response. The word was barely audible over the slick, wet sound of Loki's hand. “Yes, please, I-I'm going to..."

He didn't get to finish the sentence. Steve's body quickly began to spasm and twitch. Thick ropes of milky-white cum painted his stomach and coated Loki's fingers, making a mess exactly as Loki had predicted.

You did not miss the way Loki’s free hand dove into Steve's hair, nor the gentle praise whispered to him.

You squirmed in your position.

You’ve never felt envy like this before. Your body was clouded with frustratingly light phantom sensations—as if his orgasm was powerful enough to reach you, too. Only ten steps away, and there was no soothing touch, no relief.

When the last tremor subsided, Loki pulled away and lifted his hand to your face, displaying your prize. Meanwhile, Steve's eyes dropped shut and he sagged, panting softly. If not for Loki's magic encasing his body in a light green mist, you were sure he would have collapsed onto the bed.

"Open."

Any last semblance of resistance crumbled in that moment. When his fingers touched your lips, they automatically parted. Eager, willing.

The bittersweet taste of your lover would be the only pleasure you would have tonight. You intended to enjoy every second of it.

You lapped at the fluid, devouring it like a an animal and savoring it as you would a five-star dessert. Gentle, cat-like laps up and down the length of his fingers and between each digit.

Loki hummed, a look of lazy, heavy satisfaction on his face. "You look absolutely exquisite, eating from my hand like this. Why can't you always behave so well? We could have had fun tonight, the three of us."

You didn't respond, too occupied to form a coherent word.

The admiration in his gaze, the delight... You were trapped, a deer in the headlights.

By the time he pulled away, his hand was nearly clean, and you desperately wanted to lean forward and follow it.

His eyebrows rose, and the corner of his lips twitched. You sat back obediently, but you couldn't stop staring at that drop of white on his thumb.

Your gaze did not go unnoticed, and the swoosh of his belt coming undone drew your attention.