Y/N couldn’t remember how she got to the room, she didn’t even know who’s room it was, a thick veil of fog settling over her mind already from Loki’s grinding and Bucky’s kisses. She desperately grabbed at them, the two men towering over her, controlling her every movement.

Bucky’s warm hand slipped up her shirt, cupping the underside of her boob, his calloused thumb flicking her hard nipple. She thanked whatever god was out there (maybe she should thank Loki 😏) that she forewent a bra that day. Loki’s own chilly palms skirting underneath her black leggings, fingers spreading out over her wide hips, squeezing her love handles tightly.

“So beautiful. Isn’t that right James.” Loki looked over her shoulder at the soldier before he shifted the collar of her shirt over so his thin lips could brush over her hot skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” Her head lolled back, lips parting, a small whimper escaping her throat.

She didn’t even notice the stretchy material of her pants being rolled down her chubby legs, too caught up in the feel of both men’s lips lathering her with progressively hotter kisses. She gasped as freezing cold fingers grazed her clit. Bucky took advantage of her open mouth to slip her his tongue, their lips locking in a hungry kiss. 

The god interrupted them only briefly to pull the shirt over her head, and as soon as the fabric was thrown on the floor, Loki licked and nipped down her back, kissing every scar, every blemish, every stretch mark. Y/N felt weak in Bucky’s hands, desperately clinging to his shirt as some kind of life-line. 

She trembled in his grasp, already tensing for the insane amount of pleasure they would give her. “Relax for us doll. We’ll give you what you need.” He nibbled her earlobe as Loki finally collapsed to his knees behind her, huge hands spreading her open. “Trust us pet. Let us give you everything.” “Yes please.” She moaned, arm moving back so she could bury her fingers in his silky raven hair, pulling his face to her rump.

A metal hand gripped her jaw tightly, forcing her to make eye contact with the former assassin. “We’re in charge here. You do what we say brat. You take what we give you.” She nodded frantically, eyes wide, pupils blown. “Good girl.” With one smooth movement, almost like they had coordinated it beforehand, Bucky hoisted a thick thigh onto his waist, his flesh fingers sliding into her dripping cunt as Loki’s tongue pushed into her asshole.

“Fuck!” Her head fell forward, teeth clamping Bucky’s shoulder almost painfully, needed to ground herself. “How’s she taste Loki?” He crooked his fingers, directly targeting the spongy spot inside her that made her see stars. The prince reluctantly pulled away (giving her ass a little nip for good measure). “Better than you, love.”

Bucky growled and sped up, eager to have you fall off the edge by his own hands instead of the god’s. “I bet she’ll make prettier moans than you.” He snapped. Y/N rolled her hips down into his fingers, desperate for her release. Loki’s tongue pushed back into her, his own long fingers shoving into her quivering cunt alongside his partner’s. 

Y/N’s mind was going blank with pleasure, this was better than she had ever felt before. Her breath came out in shallow pants as her stomach tightened. “P-please, gotta-“ “So pathetic, already cock drunk and we haven’t even fucked her yet. Maybe we should rectify that.” Y/N downright whined as they both pulled away. A sharp slap to her rear shut her up, the many rings on Loki’s fingers leaving a throbbing mark. “Quiet, stupid girl. Bring her to the bed James.”

She was easily thrown onto the huge bed, the dark maroon sheets swallowing up her trembling body. She couldn’t even think to cover herself up as the men stared down on her with wicked grins. They looked huge standing above her, their dark hair and bright eyes which had darkened considerably with lust, made a shiver run up her spine and arousal curl between her thick thighs.

A silver hand wrapped around the back of the slightly taller man’s neck, pulling him closer, their lips crashing together in a truly violent kiss. Her breath caught in her throat as Bucky’s teeth sank into his lover’s lower lip, drawing blood. Loki pulled away, using his index finger to collect the little droplets of red, his tongue darting out to lick them up.

“Naughty.” His voice was downright dangerous. With a snap of his fingers, their clothes disappeared in a green shimmer and he shoved the other man to the floor, his knees colliding almost painfully with the carpet. James mouthed down the sharp v of Loki’s stomach to his incredibly large uncut cock. He licked up his length, teasing the dark head with small licks before the god growled and thrust his entire cock down his throat.

Y/N shakily crawled up the bed, mesmerised by the sight before her. Her eyes were wide as she settled on her haunches, thighs clamped together for some kind of relief. Her blood was on fire, her ears filled with the sound of her rapidly beating heart and Bucky’s gags as he struggled to swallow Loki’s cock.

“Oh pet, are you feeling neglected.” He mocked her, turning her head so she could only see him. She mumbled a reply. “Speak up pet, I don’t like when people mumble.” She looked away shyly. “Can I suck your cock too?” He smiled widely, his white teeth glimmering in the dull light of what she now realised was Bucky’s room. “Such a good girl for asking for permission. Go ahead, help him out.” The girl slipped down beside the other man.

Loki had one hand on each of their heads, getting even harder as his two lovers kissed over his cock, their tongues messily tangling together, lips suctioned around his tip. “My beautiful darlings.” His chest heaved as two pairs of glazed over eyes stared up at him, almost gazing into his soul.

They worked in tandem, Bucky would suckle on his head while Y/N kissed and licked his shaft, their hands joined together, gently rolling his heavy balls between their fingers. “My perfect sluts.” They switched, Loki’s abs tensing as his end drew closer, beautiful moans escaping his thin lips, his perfectly styled hair falling down, luscious curls people so rarely saw framing his long chiseled face. 

Y/N’s fingernail dug into his pale thighs as she took him deeper and deeper down her throat, desperately breathing through her nose to stop herself from gagging. A chill rolled up her spine, goosebumps erupting along the path the winter soldier traced along her skin as his hand traced up her back, fingers closing tightly around the back of her head to shove her forward, her nose met the small patch of expertly groomed hair at the base of his pelvis.

“Just like that doll, choke on his cock. But don’t let him cum.” Loki opened his mouth but shut it once more as Bucky’s steel blue eyes locked on him. “You cum only after our girl.” His velvety cock twitched wildly as she swallowed around him, not relenting the furious bobbing of her head, desperately trying to make him break. The cynical Stark part of her wanted to see how the god would be punished for disobeying the soldier.

Tears flowed from her eyes as she gagged but didn’t let up. Loki’s fingers tightened around her head, thrusting his hips forward so he was fucking her mouth. Soft kisses were laid on her shoulder, a huge heat radiating from behind her, Bucky settling there, pushing his own cock into the seam of her ass, grinding gently, not chasing his pleasure, only getting some relief for his aching cock.

All of a sudden, two strong arms hooked under her plump legs and hoisted her into the air, making her squeal. “Bucky!” She leaned back into his chest as he stood. “Trust me doll.” He chuckled, giving her ear lobe a playful bite. “You want her ass or her pussy?” Her cheeks heated at the bluntness of his question. 

Without warning, Loki sunk into her, his dick immediately spearing her cervix. She knew she was going to be sore tomorrow but couldn’t bring herself to care. “What a perfect little quim, made for our cocks, made for our pleasure.” She shook in their grasp, clawing at Loki’s pale skin, legs wrapping around his waist. She barely heard the sound of a bottle of lube being opened over her own gasps, her pussy clenching hard around his cock, needing him to move.

“L-Loki. Need to move please.” Her voice was broken. “Be patient, pet.” She was about to ask why when the fat head of another cock pried her ass open, tearing her in half. Y/N felt more full than she had in her entire life, stretched beyond belief between two of the most handsome men in the world. “Fuuuuuck her ass is so tight. Just like yours.” They made out over her head, spurred on by her breathy moans and whimpers.

“Please!” She sobbed, rolling her hips, trying to suckle the men deeper, no matter that they were already fully buried inside her. James made the first move, giving a shallow thrust, his cock barely leaving her before pushing back in. “Yes!” Loki followed his lead, but shoved in harder, needing to give you more pleasure than his partner. “Jealous are we?” Bucky mocked.

“I’m only trying to give our pet the pleasure she deserves.” They pushed and pulled in sync, one thrusting in while the other pulled out so she was constantly full. Her arms reached behind her head to clutch onto Bucky’s wide shoulders as her ankles locked around Loki’s back. Her own back arched up, shoving her breasts into his chest, her nipples immediately becoming painfully hard against his cold skin. 

Bucky’s flesh hand was wrapped around her front, the tips of his calloused fingers rubbing tight circles into her clit, at the same time brushing the other man’s soaked cock as he pulled out of her. His other palm was placed firmly on her hip, squeezing the fatty flesh tightly, most definitely leaving huge bruises. “Gods, I am the luckiest man in the nine realms to have two gorgeous creatures before me, letting me use them.”

Y/N couldn’t get the words out to express how much his words meant to her so she just grabbed his face to crush their lips together, needing for him to understand how much he meant to her. Bucky followed suit as soon as she released him before turning her head to give her a quick kiss himself. Their sweaty foreheads resting together, their breaths mingling.

Loki pushed his face into her neck, arms wrapping around her thick waist. His thrusts increased in power, his pelvis slamming into hers, punching her breath from her lungs. 

Her pussy fluttered, eyes falling shut. “Gonna- f-fuck- cum. Gonna cum.” She panted, the sound of their skin slapping becoming a symphony of pleasure, her mind slowly being drained of all thoughts.

“Go ahead love, cum for us, show us how good we make you feel.” She couldn’t even identify who gave her the command, but it didn’t matter, not with the way the world exploded around her, ecstasy racing through her veins. She trembled in their grasp, barely responding to Loki as he turned her head back and kissed her, too lost in the feeling of being worshipped. 

One orgasm crashed into the next, a painful burning beginning to build in her gut but she didn’t want to stop, she never wanted it to stop. The heat from Bucky and the chill from Loki overstimulating her beyond belief, fire and ice. Both burning and freezing her.

Tears dripped down her cheeks, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Bucky’s fingers tangled in his lover’s raven hair as his own end crashed over him. “Oh fuck!” His warmth filled her, the serum making buckets of cum warm her tummy. He remained inside her, wincing at the sensitivity of his dick but not willing to leave her yet, not after yearning for so long.

“Cum my prince,” Bucky leaned over Y/N’s limp body to whisper in his ear, “cum.” Loki let out the most pornographic whimper Y/N had ever heard, his entire body shuttering with the force of his orgasm, his freezing seed pumping into her, the mixture of their hot and cold releases triggering another, smaller orgasm from the woman.

The room was filled with the sounds of their breathing as they all came down together. Y/N winced as Bucky pulled out first, her entire body felt sore and stiff, his cum dribbled out of her, running down the back of her thigh. He kissed her cheek gently and strode into the bathroom behind them. With slow movements, Loki helped her down to her feet. Her knees buckled and she fell into his chest with a grunt.

“Oh dear pet, it seems you need some help.” He chuckled, Y/N slapped his peck but made no motion to try to get out of his arms. “Shut up.” A small kiss was placed on her temple, the both of them basking in the afterglow just for a moment. Loki scooped her into his pale arms, her head falling to his left shoulder, and followed after James, who had filled the massive bathtub with hot water.

He took Y/N from Loki and guided her in, settling in behind her once her body was fully submerged. Loki soon followed, his long legs caging in both his lovers as he sat behind Bucky. Y/N sighed, eyes shutting, a contented smile appearing on her face as Buck used a wet washcloth to wipe away all her sweat.

“What are you so happy about doll?” She cracked one eye open to glance at him before shutting it again. “I should’ve asked for a threesome sooner, that was fucking awesome.” “Oh we are far from done pet, by the end of the night, we’ll make sure there isn’t a thought left in that beautiful little brain of yours.”

Loki smirked. “We have so much to show you.” “Welp, I guess getting fucked to death is a pretty good way to go.” She giggled letting herself drift off for a brief nap in their arms before they would inevitably fuck her into the next millennium.

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@im-a-slut-for-fluff

“Would you stop being so nonchalant?”  Startled green eyes swung to you.  “I understand you’re going to get off with a slap on the wrist but I am not so lucky. Unlike you, I am not the son of a king.  The Allfather could have my head for this—”

“Father is not going to have anyone’s head—”

“—not to mention that ghastly princess and her barbarian of a father. I heard they mount the heads of their enemies on spikes outside of their castle. Some morbid form of decoration.”  You shot Loki a disapproving glance.  “Why would your father even suggest a union between you two anyway?  That woman is a menace. Everyone in the nine realms knows it.”

“My father cares not for such tales.  As far as he is concerned, Vanaheim has a strong standing, and a union would only serve to strengthen Asgard’s.”

“Then let her marry Thor,” you snapped.  “He’s next in line, not you.”

Loki’s mouth thinned into a like for just a fraction of a second, then it smoothed into his usual façade.  “Yes, but the Vanir are also power hungry.  He’d never let that hellion of a woman and her conniving father that near to the crown.  I suppose, from a strategic standpoint, I can understand his choice.”

“And you never once considered it?” Loki paused in his tracks.  “Marrying her, that is.  For all her faults the princess does seem to like you, and it certainly would be easier than defying you father.”  Loki scoffed.

“I live to defy my father, and I am not afraid of some spoiled princess and her entitled father.”  He took your hand in his, grasping firmly.  “Come.  My father hates to be kept waiting.”

You had never been in the king’s study before.  It was a private room, reserved for the king and whoever he invited in.  Four people were there waiting for you.  Princess Linnea and her father, King Bohr, were among them.  Both shared striking similarities— all red hair and icy blue eyes, both sets of which were on you.  The princess’ slid down to your hand that was intertwined with Loki’s and her eyes narrowed.

“Do you see, father?”  She pointed at you.  “I told you.  Prince Loki intends to break our engagement and run off with this whore.”  Loki held you fast when you tried to break your hand out of his grasp.  He positioned you slightly behind him so you were half hidden from Linnea’s spiteful words.

“Forgive me, princess, but there is no engagement.  As far as I knew, there was just an offer.  An offer,” Loki stressed, “that I have declined time and time again.  My father must have thought inviting you both here would persuade me to change my mind, but as you can see, it has not.  I apologize for making you both waste the trip.”

“The trip need not yet be wasted,” King Bohr spoke, with a pointed glance in your direction.  He watched you as though you were dirt that you were used to cleaning off of the noble’s shoes.  “Odin, my friend,” he said the word like a slur, “surely you can explain to your son why this engagement needs to go through.  Vanaheim and Asgard have always been allies and there is no need to sour what has been a long standing, mutualistic relationship.”

King Odin had been silent since your arrival.  Not once did he glance at you, saving his lone eyed gaze for his adopted son instead.  Now he spoke, with that terrifying voice that could command respect from even the nastiest of enemies.

“I agree.”

“Father!”

“Silence!”  Loki’s mouth snapped shut.  “You’ve done enough.  Embarrassing the princess.  Cavorting with this maid who you’ll no doubt be bored of in a month or two.”

Loki grit his teeth.  “That’s not what’s happening here.  I care for her.”  Odin chortled.

“I’ve heard that before, and you’ve never meant it.  I cannot fathom that you might be telling the truth now.”

“Well, it is!” Loki insisted.  “It is the truth!  And even if it wasn’t, you still cannot force me to marry her.”

“Yes he can!” Linnea exploded.  “He can, and he will, and you are going to marry me!  You insolent, slutty excuse of a prince!  You should be grateful I even want you!”

King Odin blanched. “Children—”

“Grateful?”  Loki shot back.  “The only reason you are even here is because you ran off three other prospects with your horrid ways!”  Linnea gaped.  “Yes, I heard all about that.  Did you think I would not look into you?”

While their fight grew, and both patriarchs attempted to settle it, you noticed there was one person in the room who had not yet said a word; the queen.  She sat at her husband’s side with a straight face, blue eyes taking everything in in that critical way you had often seen Loki do.  When her eyes landed on you, she stood up.  All the talking ceased.

“I wish to speak with the girl,” she announced.  No one stopped her, not even when she glided over to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.  You looked up into her kind eyes and, for the first time since you entered the study, felt a sense of calm overcome you.  “Come with me, child.  Let’s leave the others to their fighting.”

ooOOoo

You had never been in the queen’s private parlour save for cleaning it.  Though you were assigned to the prince, it was not uncommon for the other maids to take each other’s shifts to allow each other some much needed time off.  You knew this place inside and out, could manouevre it with your eyes closed, yet sitting at the table while the queen asked you how you took your tea, you felt like it was unchartered territory.

“Sugar?”  Your eyes darted up to the Allmother. 

“S-sure, my Queen.  I mean, yes please.  Please, thank you.”  Queen Frigga gave you a disarming smile.

“Relax, dear child.  You’re not in trouble.”  She added a sugar cube to your tea and pushed it towards you.  “Drink.”  You did.  “Do you like it?  I have the cooks use herbs I grow in my garden.  My mother taught me how to grow them when I was a little girl.”

“It’s nice.”  You took another sip of the tea, letting the earthy taste tantalize your tongue.  “It’s wonderful, my Queen.  Thank you.”

Frigga waved a hand.  “Please.  Call me Frigga.  There’s no need for formalities. Not when you’re seeing my son.”  Her blue eyes sparked with mischief.

“Q- Frigga,” you corrected yourself, “I wish to apologize for all the trouble.  Had I known the prince was otherwise engaged, I never would have gotten involved with him.  You must know that.”

“This is not your fault.  In fact, it is I who should be apologizing to you.  My son is very bright.  Ever since he was a child, his intelligence has been a defining factor of his.  That being said, sometimes he is not as astute as he thinks he is.  Loki never should have done this.” 

Your face dropped.  “Oh.”

 “That’s not what I meant.”  Frigga put aside her tea and reached across the table for your hand.  “My son is very taken with you.  I can tell.  He may act stoic and nonchalant but he has never quite been able to fool me.  Loki likes you a lot.”  She slid her eyes down to her tea, innocence filling her tone.  “Is it safe to assume you have the same feelings for him?”

“Yes.”  The word rushed out like a long-held breath of air.  “Yes, I do.  I like the prince very much.” Frigga smiled then.  Clearly, your answer pleased her.

“Good.”

“Too bad it won’t work out.”  You hadn’t meant to say that.  The words came out before you could stop them, and you regretted it even more when you saw the look on the queen’s face.  “I-I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Yes you did.”  Frigga pushed her tea to the side.  “Tell me what you mean by that.”  Maybe it was the way she asked the question— a gentle commend rather than a request— or maybe it was all the stress and revelations of the day but soon, you found your mouth running like a fountain.

“It’s clear the king does not approve of me, and it’s clear that Loki is wanted elsewhere.  I just don’t see the sense in continuing something that will not be fruitful.  Loki is a prince of Asgard, and I am just a maid— he should marry a princess.  He should help unite the kingdoms.”

 Frigga lifted a brow. “Is that what you think?”

“I…” you faltered.  “It’s his duty, isn’t it?”

“And what about duty to the heart?”

“The heart?” 

“Yes, the heart.  Loki clearly does not care for that princess, and honestly neither do I.  She is not a good match for him.  Their marriage would be unhappy and likely to end in disaster.  Unfortunately, my husband cannot always see that.  He is so focused on the realm that he often forgets his sons are not just princes, but beings with their own feelings and nuances.”

You brought your hands together on your lap.  “So, what do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“About this,” you gestured to the air.  “About the situation at hand.  Should I end things with Loki?”

“Do you want to end things with Loki?”

“No,” you said quickly, making Frigga smirk.  “No, I do not, but-”

“Dear, are you and Loki being safe?”  The question caught you so off guard you almost dropped your teacup.

“S-safe?”

“Yes, safe,” Frigga repeated.  “Are you taking measures to ensure there will be no child born out of wedlock?”

You shifted in your seat, remembering how Loki had finished inside of you just a few hours earlier.  “For the most part, yes.”

“Do you want children?” she asked.  “Have you ever seen yourself as a mother?”

“Oh, yes!”  You gave an enthusiastic nod.  “I’ve always wanted to be a mother someday.”

“Good.”  Frigga picked up her teacup.  She raised it to her lips and fixed you with a sly look over the brim of the cup.  “It’s wonderful that you’re both taking precautions.  A baby out of wedlock fathered by one of the princes would bring such a scandal to Asgard that no princess would ever pursue a marriage.”  She took a long sip of her tea, that knowing look still in her cerulean eyes.  “And we wouldn’t what that, would we?”

You frowned, still a little confused by her sudden change of topic, but answered nonetheless. “Of course not.”

ooOOoo

It was a week later that you realized what the queen was trying to tell you.  You were sat on Loki’s lap, chest to chest and arms up and around his neck.  He had locked them there with the silk ties, keeping his own hands free to roam your naked body as he fucked up into you in the way he knew you liked.   

“You’re so tight,” he whispered against your neck.  “So sweet for me.  Always so sweet for me.”  You moaned against his shoulder, earning a warning smack on your butt cheek.  “What do you say when someone compliments you, my little whore?”

“T-thank you,” you whimpered.  “Thank you, my prince.  I love having you in my t-tight cunt.”

“That’s a good girl.”  Your body was spent from three orgasms, and you were already approaching your fourth.  Loki, on the other hand, had only cum once in your mouth before he entered you.  Now he was steadily on his way to another, and you had no idea how long that would be.  All you knew was that his cock felt so good inside of you that you’d let him fuck you until you passed out.  Even after if he so wished.  “How are we doing, darling?”

“Good.  So good, my prince.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”  Loki fisted your hair, tugging on it so your head fell back.  You gasped when he attached his lips to your neck and began sucking with fervor.  His other hand reached down between you, rubbing your clit in precise circles that had your toes clenching and face scrunching up in pleasure.

“Loki!”  Your nails bit into your palms, wrists fighting the restraints as you felt yourself falling.  “Loki!  Loki!”  All you knew was his name.  There were a million other words in the universe but none of them came to mind.  The only thing that mattered was him, here with you, and the way your orgasm took you by surprise.  “Fuck!”

“That’s it,” Loki grunted.  A squeeze of your walls had him cumming inside you, filling you up in a way that you had long gotten used too.  “That’s it, sweet thing.  Take everything I give you.”

Your head flopped onto his shoulder while he finished, head lolling to the side in rapture.  Loki’s cock finally stopped spasming within you after a what seemed like an eternity.  He pressed a kiss to your forehead—a gesture that was now habitual— and brought a hand up to caress your naked back.  For a few moments, the world disappeared.  The world disappeared and it was just you and Loki on his comfortable desk chair, basking in the afterglow of another amazing round of sex as though you had not one care in the world.

Except you did have other things to care about, namely one in particular.

“I should get up.”  You wondered if he could hear the reluctance in your tone.  “Go take a bath and wash this,” you gestured between them, “off me.”

“Wait,” Loki gripped your upper arm.  “Stay for a minute.  I’ll come take a bath with you in a bit.”

“You can join me when you’re ready, Loki.  You know I don’t mind.”  Once more, you tried to lift yourself off his cock, and once more he held you in place.  “Loki, I have to-”

“Go wash off, yes I know.”  He leaned forward then, capturing your lips in a kiss.  It took no time at all for you to melt into it.  Such embraces between you two were now as common as breathing.  “Stay with me, darling,” he whispered between kisses.  “Just for a little while.”

“This isn’t fair,” you told him.  In response, he moved to your neck.  Your head fell back, allowing him more space to kiss and suck.  “Loki…”

“Darling,” he whined back.  “You’re so fidgety today.”

“And you’re so clingy today,” you teased back.  “Come on,” you tapped his shoulder.  “I’ll let you take a bath with me if you let me go.”

Loki snapped, “I’m not letting you go.  Would you just sit quietly and let me—” he cut off his words so harshly you swore he bit his tongue.  You almost expected blood to start leaking from his mouth.

“Let you do what?”  Loki stayed silent.  “Loki, let you do what?  You sound like you want me to sit here on your cock for the rest of the day, but you know I can’t do that. You came inside of me and since you don’t have the ingredients for that contraceptive, you know I have to wash it out.  I can’t get pregnant. You—”. You stopped, noting the guilty look on Loki’s face.  In the back of your mind, Frigga’s words from that day in the parlour floated back to you. “Loki?”

He looked away. “Yes, dear?”

“You know I can’t get pregnant, right?”  You spoke to him as though he were a frightened animal.  “Loki?”  His eyes dipped down.  “Oh Gods!  Loki!”  You flicked his shoulder.  “I knew it!  You’re trying to get me pregnant!”  He did not answer, so you climbed off of him with a huff.  “Unbelievable!” 

“You make it sound like I’m some sort of pervert.  It’s not like I was trying to trap you.  We know perfectly well pregnancy is a consequence of unprotected sex—”

“We were never having unprotected sex until you stopped being careful!”

“It’s not like you ever had that issue before!” Loki’s eyes were blazing.  “If you wanted me to stop finishing inside you all you had to do was say so!  You never once stopped me.  And don’t act like you don’t want children.  You’ve spoken to me many times about it.”

You reached for his discarded tunic and angrily threw it over your head.  “Yes, someday.  When I’m married.  I’m not going to be another maid who spreads her legs for some high born and ends up discarded with little kids to look after.  I won’t do it!”

“Who said I was going to discard you?”  Loki gestured around the room, where your belongings now joined his.  “I moved you in here with me!  I am with you against the wishes of my father because I want you.  That stupid princess and her father might be hoping I’ll change my mind but we all know I won’t.  What’s the problem?”  You threw your hands in the air.

“The problem is you’re doing it again!  You’re making decisions without including me and hoping that I’ll just go along with it.  I don’t care how smart you are!  You cannot just expect me to bend to your every whim!”

Loki scoffed.  “That’s not what I’m—”

“Yes!  Yes you are!  You did it when you neglected to tell me about the princess and you’re doing it now!  You can’t just move people around like pawns on a chest board to get what you want!  If you don’t understand that—”

“I understand that well,” he growled.  “What you don’t seem to understand is that the threat of my father forcing me to marry that princess is very real.  He can have you sent away or have me sent away until I do his bidding, and not even my mother can stop him.  This is the easiest way for us to be together.”

You stared at him in disbelief.  “You can’t possibly believe that.  Loki,”you clasped your hands together, willing him to understand, “I would love to have a child with you, but it cannot be like this.  Bringing a child into this world in a situation like this is not the answer.  It’s too much responsibility to place on a babe!  How can you not see that?  Please tell me you see that!”

Tears were falling down your face by the time you finished.  Loki, who had now fixed his pants back in place, began pacing the floor.  He looked at you, and you could read every emotion on his face.  The guilt, the disgust for himself and his actions.  The utter destruction and hopelessness he felt inside.  “Loki…”

“I don’t know what to do!” he hissed.  “I don’t have the answer to this!”

“Loki—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered through tears.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know what else to do!”  It was like his legs gave out.  His knees wobbled and his body crumpled onto the floor, only just catching himself in time to land on his butt.  You walked over to him with a sigh, taking a seat on the bed rather than the carpeted floor.  He placed his head on your knee and let you run your fingers through his hair as he spoke.

“There’s a law,” he began, “old and meant to be ratified but overlooked all the same.  It states that any heir born of an heir cannot be done so out of wedlock, meaning that if you were to end up with child—”

“You would have to marry me,” you concluded.  “We could be together.”  And now, you understood.  Frigga’s words had not been a warning, rather a sly push in the right direction.  She was giving you a way to be with her son.  “Loki, I shouldn’t have to have a child for us to be together—”

“But—”

“No.  Let me speak.”  You slid off the bed and onto his lap, letting him wrap his arms around your waist.  His green eyes were sad as they took in your face.  “I enjoy being with you.  I’ve wanted you for so long and part of me still can’t believe that we actually happened.  You’re a prince, for Valhalla’s sake!  You’re a prince and you noticed me.  You wanted me.”

Loki chuckled.  “Don’t sound so surprised.  You’re a catch, darling.  Anyone would be lucky to have you.”  He closed his eyes and placed his forehead against yours.  “I was lucky to have you.”  Loki kissed you then— soft, slow, not at all the desperate clutch you expected it to be.  When he pulled back, there was resignation in his eyes.  “This is over, isn’t it?”  You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.”  His hand came up to cup your cheek, brushing away the wetness from your eyes.  “Can you do one thing for me?”

“Anything.” 

“Don’t leave me alone tonight.”

 That was when you broke.  You dropped your head into the crook of his neck to muffle your cries, but they filled the room anyway.  Loki was right behind you with his own display of depression; soft sniffles mingling with your loud sobs.  His arms were around you so tight you were sure they would cut off your circulation altogether.  You didn’t care, though.  You would gladly let him smother you to death if it meant the pain blossoming in your chest would stop.

“Darling?”

“Yes, Loki?”

“If it at all makes a difference, I think I lo-” You pressed a hand to his mouth.

“Don’t.”  When you were sure he would stay silent, you let your hand drop to the side.  “Just don’t.  Just… sit here and hold me.”  His chin touched your head— a sign of his nod— and you buried your face in his chest again to let the rest of the tears fall.

ooOOoo

The month following your breakup with Loki went by quicker than you expected.  Instead of lagging, the days flew by like lightning.  First a week, then two, then it had been a month since you moved out of the prince’s bedroom and back to your maid quarters.  You were lucky the king let you keep your job, and you were even luckier that none of the other maids seemed to have any animosity towards you.  As a matter of fact, they all seemed to blame Loki.

That bastard prince, they would say.  Trapping a poor young maid and tricking her like he always does.  It was an untruth, admittedly one you let run wild.  You supposed it was easier to let them hate Loki than tell the truth.  It was simpler to bask in that hate rather than explain how you fell for a prince you knew you could not have yet deluded yourself into thinking you could.

It was better, you decided, than facing the fact that you loved him.

“Hey!”  You jumped, almost dropping the fresh towels bound for the queen’s room.  She had firmly stated to all involved that upon resumption of your duties, you would now be serving her.  Though you much preferred her son, Queen Frigga was an easy woman to work for. 

“Sorry,” you told Isa, the brunette friend you had known since childhood.  You placed the queen’s towels on the table and turned to her. “I didn’t hear you.  What did you say?” 

“I’m asking if you saw this?”  There was an expensive looking envelope in her hand, and she sported a guilty look on her face.  “It fell from the bag of one of the messengers when he was leaving for town.  I saw the prince’s name so I snatched it up, and, well…”

“Well what?” you demanded.  Loki had made himself scarce since you parted ways.  Anytime you broke and asked for him, you were always told he was away on business or out with friends.  Sometimes, though, when you were roaming the castle halls alone or busy with chores, you swore you caught a whiff of him.  That mixture of sweet and savoury that would not leave your mind no matter how much you tried to forget it.  And when you would smell him, and turn your head in the direction of it, all you would see was a faint glimmer of green.

“I no longer think I should say.” Isa whispered.  “I don’t want to upset you.”

“Just show me.”  She did, and your heart sank to your feet.  “Is this…”

“Yeah,” she nodded slowly.  “They’re getting married.” 

You forced your eyes away from the gold paper, from Loki’s name entwined with Linnea’s and a declaration of their union.  “Oh,” you whispered.  “When?”

“Next week.” 

“That can’t be possible.”  You pointed to the date.  “That’s clearly next month.  Have you forgotten what day it is?”

“Have you?” Isa questioned as though you were slow.  “This date is next week.  The entire castle is in a flurry trying to get ready with such little time.”  She spotted the look of disbelief on your face and gestured to the calendar on the wall.  “Go check the date if you don’t believe me.  It’s right there.”

You did go to check the date.  Over to the wall and to the little calendar you both shared, and once again you stopped.

“That can’t be right.”  You began counting days in your mind.  “That cannot possibly be right because I- Oh!”  You whirled around to face Isa, a hand pressed to your mouth.  “Isa!”

“What?”  She reached out to grab your upper arm.  “What is it?”

 You swallowed against a dry throat and pitched your voice low so no one but her could hear.  “I haven’t bled since I left the prince!”

Part 5

"the- the collar thing. the collar you're wearing around your neck right now, dipshit."

loki's tongue darts out to wet his lips as he smirks. "just because i'm letting you be in charge doesn't mean you can run that dirty little mouth of yours."

"you said so yourself," you groan, pulling on the leash to get him closer to your face. "i can do anything i want."

loki's eyebrows raise. now things are getting interesting.

he leans in, brushing his lips against yours, before moving away just a bit, watching as your face heats up., chuckling in mirth.

he can feel you're just as affected as he is.

"we both know you and i want the same thing," his fingers graze against your wrist, the one holding onto the lead.

you don't budge, but he can see the curious twinkle in your eyes.

"i can always take the reins for you," loki whispers. "you know that's how you like it."

you roll your eyes, wrapping your hand around the lead, heaving him closer with a harsh pull to the rope. "it's how i usually like it. but it's my birthday, after all."

"well then-" loki pulls you close by the neck, slanting his lips against yours. "-happy birthday, master."

before you can do anything else, he forces you to kiss him, tongue and all, stealing your breath as if he were taking your power back with his mouth.

before you get too lost in him, you snap out of his trance, your hand wrapping around his neck as you push him away and lean back- well, as much as you can because now he's got a tight grip on your hips, as if to say you want to take the lead so bad? do it then if you're so good. i dare you.

"stop," you pant, but there's a hint of desperation in it. "i might just tell you not to come out of spite."

loki scoffs, "that's my line."

"no, baby," you gather up as much courage as you can, leaning in close so your words hit harder. "your next line is, 'as you wish, master.'"

Your light and airy giggles turned into thunderous cackles when your Asgardian lover pinched at the middle of your ribcage. "Yohou knoHOW it dohohoes! LoHOKIHI!"

Loki was aware of every single ticklish spot on your body and often took advantage of it if for no other reason to see you smile and laugh. You never minded. These moments, gathered in his arms as he sought out your weak points, were your favorite.

His little teases and quips arguably made it worse better.

"What about here?" He asked, moving to a less ticklish spot to help you regain your breath a bit. He fluttered a few fingers at the waistline of your shorts and smiled down at your adorably scrunched up facial features.

"Yohou're beheing mehehean!"

"Oh, darling, I assure you..." Loki's voice suddenly turned sinister and as he shifted to turn towards your legs, you immediately gasped. "...I can be downright evil."

"NO!"

Any other protests were lost under a shrill scream once Loki latched his thumb and middle fingers onto the muscle above your knees. It was undeniably the worst spot you had. So bad, that it wasn't common for Loki to even target it unless you truly and utterly deserved it.

"NOHO! NAHAHAAAH! LOHO-KI-KIHI!"

His hands were sending fiery, ticklish shocks up your legs that travelled up your spine and settled into your neck. Your body was reaching its limit, so you did the only thing you knew that would make it stop without actually having to say stop.

You shot up into a sitting position and dug your fingers into Loki's sides. He spluttered in surprise, barking out a laugh and falling over sideways.

You sucked in a deep breath and let it out as you regained your composure.

"You little minx!"

"Yohou... you... deheserved thahat and you knohow it..." You panted, a ticklish smile still plastered on your face.

"You'll pay for that," Loki narrowed his eyes. You giggled once more at how one simple ticklish squeeze was more than enough for him to want to seek revenge.

"Lahater... later. I think you kihilled me."

————————————————————————

At the very least, Loki could say he hadn’t fallen hard and fast for you the way his brother had fallen for Jane Foster. In all honesty, he hadn’t even realized that someone new had joined the gang of heroes at first. After all, Loki mostly kept to himself. He didn’t much care for the rambunctious bickering and hollering that the other tower inhabitants seemed to enjoy. It wasn’t as though they missed his presence anyhow. What motivation was there for him to participate in their juvenile game nights and group training sessions?

He first saw you in passing, just a fleeting glance as you walked past the open door to his bedroom while he was reading on his armchair. You hadn’t even paused to look inside the door – you’d just strolled on by, none the wiser that there was an unfamiliar face sitting on the opposite side of the doorway. You had caught his eye, however. Partially because you, too, were an unfamiliar face to him. He’d never seen you around, and suddenly, there you were, wandering about the tower as though you owned the place.

A part of him was curious. There was a certain strength and confidence in the way you moved – you didn’t walk with your shoulders hunched or your head down like so many other mortals Loki had known, you held your chin high and glided gracefully with each step. There was an air of elegance in the way you carried yourself. You were intriguing, though not so much as to draw Loki out of his comfortable spot in his chair to follow you and learn who you were. If you’d truly come to stay here in the tower, he’d stumble across you again in due time.

And stumble, he did.

Days later, Thor had finally succeeded in dragging Loki to the training room for a one-on-one sparring match. Loki had tried earnestly to decline the invitation, but Thor wouldn’t have no for an answer, insisting that Loki was becoming too complacent with his own training routines. With a melodramatic sigh, he’d left the comfort of his bedroom to join Thor in the empty gym, insisting he’d only agree to a match if Thor didn’t use his damned hammer. He was not in the mood to be pinned to the floor for an hour today.

A particularly heavy blow sent Loki reeling backward across the sparring arena. In an empty gym, it wasn’t a problem – he’d regain his balance after a few steadying steps and launch himself back at his brother.

But the gym was no longer empty.

His back collided with a solid being, nearly making him shout out in surprise. You, however, didn’t withhold the yelp that leapt out of your throat as you stumbled backward with arms flailing to recover your footing. After being struck with the full weight of a god, Loki was shocked to find you didn’t fall to the floor on impact.

Thor shouted your name as you collected yourself, apologizing that he ‘didn’t know his own strength.’ Loki’s eyes turned toward the ceiling at Thor’s humble bragging.

“I apologize. My brother is a bit arrogant on occasion.”

You looked him in the eye, a wry smirk gracing your lips. “I’ve heard you can be a bit of a narcissist yourself, Loki.”

His brows shot up his forehead, a bewildered look on his face. He wasn’t sure if he should be appalled or impressed that you had the gall to speak to him in such a manner. When you laughed and assured him it was merely a jest, introducing yourself, he decided it was the latter. He’d never encountered a mortal so quick to bite back. Perhaps you would amount to a formidable teammate.

Loki began to see you more frequently around the tower after that. A chance passing in the hallway, an overlapping of workout times in the gym, a late-night snack venture in the kitchen. Each time, he lingered a little longer, said a bit more. His curiosity grew with each encounter. He needed to learn more about the mysterious mortal who had him so intrigued.

So, he did the unfathomable, and attended a team training session one morning.

He didn’t come to participate, of course. He had no interest in training with the overbearingly upbeat group of heroes. He merely arrived at the same time as the scheduled session to complete his own training independently.

Loki situated himself along the far wall where the targets were, magically conjuring up a few of his daggers for some throwing practice. He didn’t need the practice, of course, but he supposed it never hurt to exercise his skill every once in a while. As he paced out to stand behind the throwing line, his eyes wandered over toward the team. You were standing in the sparring arena, crouched in a fighting stance, with Steve facing you. The sight made him cringe. A mortal going up against a super soldier? He hoped Steve would go easy on you.

He had to turn his back on you to face the target, which was likely for the best. He didn’t want to see you get laid out by the righteous captain anyhow. Loki gripped the hilt of one of his daggers in his hand, flinging it across the room at the target with a flick of his wrist. The twirling metal glinted in the harsh gym lighting as it sailed toward the target, ultimately burying up to the hilt in the dead center of the wooden circle.

Before he could toss another one, he was distracted by a sudden uproar in the direction of the sparring arena. Loki turned his head to look over his shoulder, not wanting to appear excessively interested. He was somewhat surprised to find you kneeling atop the blonde-haired soldier, your forearm pressed against his throat, pinning him to the floor. The others were watching, apparently cheering for you for winning the match. Loki made a mental note not to underestimate you – clearly you were stronger than your average mortal, or at least more skillful.

Loki continued to practice with his daggers for a few more throws before growing bored, deciding instead to move to the heavy bag to release some energy. It was a bit closer to the sparring arena, so he could get a better view of what was going on. Not that it was necessary for him to see, of course. It was merely an added perk.

He threw a few warm-up punches, his eyes flitting over to the arena where you were now up again to spar. This time, Natasha was your chosen opponent. She certainly didn’t possess the same brute strength that Steve did, but she was cunning and swift. It would be interesting to see how you handled this interaction.

Seeing you in action was quite the spectacle. You moved gracefully as you fought, but with a fiery ferocity behind every move. Your steps were unpredictable – as soon as Nat fell into any sort of pattern of blows, you’d suddenly tuck and roll out of the way unexpectedly, throwing her off just enough for you to get back on the offensive. It was no time at all before she, too, had been defeated by your clever fighting style.

He had to admit, he was somewhat impressed.

Loki finished up with his exercises a few minutes before the team had wrapped up with the group session. He busied himself with retrieving his daggers from where they still sat by the targets while Steve gave his usual revoltingly optimistic speech to the group for ending a successful training session. He headed for the door as Steve finished speaking, trying to duck out before the crowd filtered out into the hallway.

He was more than a bit surprised when you called his name as he strode past, causing him to pause and look at you. Your face was coated in a thin sheen of sweat, hair mussed and sticking up in a couple places. You offered him a sly grin.

“Next time, you should join us instead of just watching from the sidelines,” you suggested. “Unless you think you’d be beaten.”

Loki chuckled, a smirk crossing his face. “So confident in your abilities.”

You shrugged. “I just like a challenge, is all.”

“A challenge?” He shook his head, smirk broadening. “You say that as though you’d stand a chance against me.”

“Don’t I?”

Feeling a bit mischievous, he suddenly lunged toward you, aiming to grab your wrist and pin your arm behind your back just to prove a point. It was as though a switch flipped inside you the moment he began to move – your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could grab yours, yanking to redirect his full momentum toward you and hooking a leg behind his knee. He fell to the floor, flat on his back, blinking silently in shock.

You stood over him, grinning as you held out a hand to help him up. Forcing his jaw to shut, he allowed you to assist him to his feet, eyeing you more curiously than before. With a quick wink, you grabbed your water bottle from the corner and sauntered out of the room without another word.

There was no denying it now – he was definitely impressed.

Perhaps that interaction was what you both needed to really break the ice. Loki began to make more of an effort to spend time outside of his bedroom in the common areas of the tower. He found that you were about as much of a night owl as he was, frequenting the tower at all hours of the evening and sometimes into the early morning. At first, the two of you would merely share brief conversations in passing – you’d ask what he was reading as he sat at the kitchen table when you’d enter to make a cup of tea, or he’d ask how your mission had gone when you drifted in with a heavy look in your eyes after being out all day.

Gradually, your conversations became more substantial and lengthy. He began to learn more about you. That your family lived across the country, but you visited them at least a couple times a year. That you’d once hoped to be a paramedic, but found you liked a different sort of action and instead began training with SHIELD. That your favorite meal of the day was breakfast, but you hated waking up early, you just liked the food.

Loki hadn’t realized he’d become your friend until the day you learned he’d never been mini golfing before. It amused him that you were so surprised by this fact – clearly he wasn’t the sort of person who would frequent such frivolous places. Still, you insisted he’d been missing out his ‘entire life.’

“Seriously, Loki, we’re going mini golfing tomorrow. You and me. I’ll show you how it’s done,” you assured, a determined look in your eyes. He’d nearly laughed out loud.

“You want to take me to a public recreational facility? Are you certain you haven’t fallen ill and grown delirious?”

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You’d said it so casually, so matter of fact, as though there was nothing unusual to you about calling the former would-be tyrant a friend. There was not a hint of sarcasm in your voice, not a glimpse of a sly smirk to indicate you were making a jest. You left no room for Loki to doubt your intentions were pure, that you’d meant what you said.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he’d nodded in response to your question. Yes, he supposed you were friends. He certainly could use a friend.

You made good on your promise, taking him to an indoor glow-in-the-dark mini golf place the following afternoon. His presence earned you both a number of curious looks, some appearing even a bit concerned. If it bothered you, you gave no indication that it did, instead focusing all your efforts on explaining the rules of the game to the inexperienced god. After the first couple of holes, he began to get the hang of it. You’d been right – it was quite enjoyable. In the end, he beat you by a couple strokes.

You insisted he cheated. But he’d never admit to it.

Now that you’d been made aware of just how little modern Midgardian entertainment and culture Loki had been exposed to, you made it your mission to broaden his horizons. Sometimes you invited others on the team to join your outings, and others you would just ask Loki to come alone. Thor had possibly been more excited than anyone to join in a game of laser tag. Typically, Loki found his older brother’s unyielding enthusiasm to be off-putting, but he found he didn’t actually mind spending time with the team if you were there. You acted almost like a buffer between Loki and the other Avengers, providing him with a source of comfort to return to when the others simply became too much. They, too, seemed more sociable with Loki now that you’d been dragging him out on group outings.

The day you’d organized a group outing to a local carnival was the day he realized he loved you.

A fearless daredevil, you wanted to ride every thrill ride the carnival had to offer. Most of the team was happy to join you on your crazed search for adrenaline, hopping on almost every ride. Loki wasn’t exceedingly thrilled about relying on poorly constructed Midgardian machinery to swing him around or flip him upside-down, but he supposed he’d humor you, and joined in with the rest of the team.

There was one ride no one else was willing to touch. Two seats were situated within a metal sphere, which was attached to two long support beams with taut wires. The moment the ride operator pressed a button, the only restraint holding the sphere to the ground would release, sling-shotting the riders hundreds of feet into the air before they fell once again, the process repeating until the vertical momentum had stopped. Even Bucky and Thor, the biggest thrill seekers next to you, declined to ride. The look of disappointment on your face made Loki’s heart ache for you.

As you stepped into line to ride all by yourself, Loki decided that if no one else was bold enough to step up and be your riding partner, he’d do it himself. Your face rapidly morphed from disappointed to ecstatic excitement, seeing your friend willing to take a leap of faith and ride with you. He assured you there was no part of him that was scared to ride this – that the others were simply cowards for refusing to join you.

When he found himself at the front of the line, strolling along behind you as you hurried into one of the two seats to strap yourself in, he decided that maybe the ride made him a bit uncomfortable. Certainly not scared, though. He was an almighty god, after all.

The shrill scream you released as the two of you were catapulted into the air was nearly deafening. Reactionarily, you reached over and grabbed hold of Loki’s hand in yours, squeezing tight as you began to laugh through the terrified screams. Loki made no sound at all – he merely listened to the sound of your voice, felt the warmth of your fingers laced through his. As the momentum slowed, you stopped screaming in favor of laughing hysterically. He’d listened to your laugh countless times, but today it was bright and bold and exploding with excitement. The sound was music to his ears.

You’d turned to him as the ride gradually lowered you back down to the ground, gushing with appreciation that he’d been willing to join you, that it was so much better with him than it would have been alone. Loki couldn’t help but notice your fingers were still intertwined with his, even after the stomach-swooping drops had finished. He found that he didn’t mind. In fact, he felt a sense of loss when you finally did release his hand to unbuckle the restraints when the ride had touched down on the ground.

What was this unfamiliar ache in his chest? This sense of longing, this feeling of desire for your touch, your voice, your mere presence? He couldn’t find any other explanation:

He was in love with you.

The old Loki would have felt resentment. He’d have scolded himself, said he was ‘going soft’ for daring to allow a mortal to get under his skin and toy with his emotions. But you hadn’t done this to him; at least, not intentionally. You were just… you. And he was smitten.

You hadn’t even appeared to notice his gradual change in demeanor around you after that day. He wrestled with his yearnings to wrap you up in his arms, to hold you tight and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, to kiss you until he’d fulfilled his euphoric desires. But you continued on as though nothing had changed. As you had told him – he was your friend, and you treated him as such. Yet he so desperately wanted to be more than that.

On one particular evening, you’d invited Loki to join you in the common room for a horror movie marathon. He’d seen one or two Midgardian horror movies but hadn’t really paid them much attention. You’d demanded right then and there that he sit with you and watch some of your favorite films.

So, there he was, seated on the sofa while you pulled up the first film of the evening. You flipped off the lights, leaving only the glow of the television screen to see by, before flopping unceremoniously onto the opposite end of the sofa. You stretched your legs out across the couch cushions in front of you and threw your blanket across your lap, your feet resting only inches away from Loki’s leg.

“Getting comfortable, are we?” he asked teasingly, gesticulating toward your legs that were nearly encroaching on his personal space. Not that he minded, of course. He just enjoyed the adorable, scrunched-up expression your face took on when he teased you.

“Yes, actually. I’m very comfortable,” you responded haughtily, wriggling deeper into the couch cushions. “Now, hush! The movie’s starting.”

Loki rolled his eyes outwardly, fighting back an amused grin as he turned his attention to the television. You’d selected what you insisted was one of your favorites to start off with, a black-and-white movie clearly developed before your time, but you still seemed to know it well. He settled back against the couch cushions, watching the movie play out on the screen.

Early on, he realized that you reacted uniquely to the horror scenes. Of course, you still reacted to the jump scares, jolting just the slightest bit as though it startled you, but it was quickly followed by a bout of rapid giggles. Perhaps you were laughing at the fact that the movie had succeeded in frightening you, Loki thought. Until you began to laugh hysterically when a particularly gruesome murder scene began to play, that is. That made him turn his head to observe you with a confused tilt of his head and a concerned raise of one brow.

“I didn’t realize you found murder to be particularly amusing,” he quipped.

“Nohoho! Sorry, noho, it’s not the murder part,” you explained, “it’s just so over-the-top ridiculous! I mean, she decided to go for a walk alone at night, after multiple murders were reported in the neighborhood… who does that??”

“And the vivid depictions of wounds and blood don’t scare you?” he asked curiously.

“Noho, that’s just as funny! It’s all so theatrical! It’s clearly not real!” You turned your attention back to the screen, where a man had just discovered the woman’s dead body on the side of the road. Loki followed suit, wondering if maybe he was the one taking the film too seriously. For poorly enacted Midgardian acting, it did look fairly graphic. Not that it bothered him, of course – he’d seen a number of real wounds in his time, and was sort of desensitized to it, but to a mortal, he could understand why it may appear jarring.

When the first film had finished, you decided to switch horror genres and popped in a zombie movie. Only twenty minutes in, when the first zombie appeared at the door and attacked one of the protagonists, you were already giggling like a fiend. Loki shook his head, chuckling endearingly at your ridiculousness. He certainly wasn’t complaining – he absolutely adored hearing you laugh. Your reactions were quite possibly more entertaining to him than the films themselves.

“Darling, can’t you just be serious for a moment? I’d like to watch the film,” Loki groaned teasingly as you laughed over a scene where another protagonist was dragged into a hungry pile of zombies to their death.

“I’m sohohorry! I cahan’t help it, it’s just soho funny!” you insisted.

“Yes, I’ve gathered that – clearly you find being eaten by zombies to be an amusing fate.” He smirked at you across the couch, amused that he was getting you riled up.

“No! I do nohot! It’s just overdramatic, is all!”

“Mm. I’m going to recommend Banner perform a psychiatric examination on you after this.” You narrowed your eyes, still grinning from the residual amusement of the movie scene. Loki merely winked at you.

Your laughter was infectious, serving to make him begin smiling at some of the frightening scenes as well. He longed to wrap you up in his arms and squeeze you close to his chest, his heart swelling with every new fit of giggles you erupted with. He couldn’t say that he saw the appeal of these ridiculous movies, but if the scenes continued to draw sweet laughter from your lips, then he was willing to sit with you all evening.

During the third movie in, you were beginning to become nonsensical, unable to string together coherent sentences between your hysterics. Admittedly, this movie was particularly cheesy, with long, drawn-out build ups to each murder scene where the victim made horrifically poor decisions that led to their ultimate demise. Loki began to find that making snide comments about the actions of the protagonists made you laugh even harder. Naturally, he began to do it more frequently, just to egg you on.

One particular scene, where one of the characters was running straight down a street away from an oncoming car, had you rolling on the couch. You pointed at the screen and laughed, even as the driver of the vehicle succeeded in his goal of driving over the person, simply incredulous that this person didn’t think to just walk to the side of the road instead of continuing to wander right in the vehicle’s path. It was beginning to surprise Loki how dull humans could be in these ridiculous films.

In the process of your newest bout of hysterics, you kicked your legs out and accidentally struck Loki’s leg with your feet. His head whipped around to glare jokingly at you.

“Pardon me – don’t you have enough space on your own three-quarters of the sofa?” He reached down and playfully fluttered his fingers across the bottoms of your feet. He was quite taken aback by your overzealous reaction, jerking both feet away swiftly as your giggles pitched up in octave.

“HEHEY!!” you scolded him as he began to laugh.

“I apologize – I hadn’t realized you were so ticklish,” he insisted.

“I’m nohot usually! Not there, anyway.”

“Oh-ho! Somewhere else, then?”

Your eyes widened at the mischievous expression that was now etched on Loki’s face. Immediately, you began stuttering out protests and giggling in anticipation, planting your palms against the couch cushions beside you to scoot yourself away from the impish-looking God of Mischief. But now that he had an excuse to get closer to you, a ruse he could use to justify his actions, he wasn’t about to allow that to slip through his fingers.

He shot his hands out and grabbed hold of your ankles before you could scoot out of his reach, dragging you closer to him again with one effortless tug. You shrieked in surprise, bursting into hysterics as he caught your ankles in the crook of his elbow and began scratching along the soles of your trapped feet. Either you were already weak from your hours of boisterous laughter, or you just simply didn’t mind his sudden attack – either way, you weren’t fighting him very hard as you threw your head back into the couch cushions and laughed with abandon as he sought out the spots on your feet that made you jolt a little harder.

“LOHOHOKI YOHOU’RE MAKING ME MIHIHISS THE MOVIE!!” you whined, tugging at your ankles now that he’d discovered the spot along the outer edge of your foot that made you release squeaky giggles.

“Darling, you know as well as I that movies can be rewound,” he retorted. Growing curious about where else you might be ticklish, he shifted to grab hold of your ankles once again, pinning them to the couch as he adjusted to kneel on the couch cushion he’d been sitting on. With a smirk, he suddenly scribbled his fingertips up the backs of your calves, pausing to dust along the undersides of your knees. You shrieked, immediately moving to try to bend your knees and protect the sensitive spot. He caught on quickly, grabbing hold of your ankles and dragging your legs out straight before placing a shin across both of yours to pin them in place.

“No-no, ahah Lohoki wahait this isn’t fahahair! You’re so much strohonger than me!” You made your eyes go all soft and pleading, a bright grin on your reddening face. He shook his head with a laugh, slipping his fingers underneath your knees once again to scratch lightly at the sensitive skin. You flopped back against the sofa once again, hands flying up to your face to cover your mouth and suppress the desperate giggles tumbling out of your mouth.

“Now, darling – don’t try to hide your laughter now – you’ve been giggling since we began this marathon of ridiculous films.” Scooting closer to your side of the couch, he planted himself on your upper legs and began to tickle his way swiftly up your sides toward your underarms.

“EEAHAHAH LOKI YOHOU MEHENACE!” you cried, arms clamping down to your sides before he could get further than your lower ribs. No matter, he thought to himself, sliding one hand down to claw at the center of your belly while the other dug mercilessly into your ribcage simultaneously.

“I’m appalled you haven’t informed me about this before,” Loki teased, watching you squirm hopelessly under his fingertips. “How could you keep something like this from me?”

“WHY-AHAH-WHY WOHOULD I WANT THEHE GOD OF MISCHIEF TO KNOHOW THIS??” Your fingers closed around his wrists, feebly attempting to push away his hands from your ticklish torso. Loki knew that you knew your attempts were futile.

What happened next, though, he didn’t expect.

Suddenly, you surged forward, lifting your back from the couch so you could latch your hands onto Loki’s ribs. You wasted no time in wriggling your fingertips deep into the spaces, your eyes wide and hopeful as you gazed at his face. He tried to fight it, but you’d caught him so off guard that he couldn’t help the deep, rumbling laughter that your touch drew from his chest. The triumphant, ecstatic look on your face was worth the embarrassment. Your eyes gleamed, an impossibly broad grin on your face so wide your cheeks lifted and made your eyes scrunch up.

“HA!” you exclaimed victoriously, trying to maintain the upper hand as you moved to claw at his belly. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Eheh… I don’t tell any-HA-ahanyone about this,” he countered. Despite how unbearable it was, he tried not to immediately push you off of him, wanting to at least allow you a moment of fun. But when your delicate fingers found the hypersensitive spot just below his navel, he couldn’t help himself from fighting back. He slotted his hands up underneath your arms and wiggled his fingers deep into the softest part of your underarm, laughing sinisterly as you screeched and toppled sideways against the back of the couch. All efforts of trying to tickle Loki were forgotten as he pinched and prodded at your uppermost ribs, relishing in the hiccuppy laughter exploding from your chest.

“I-HA-IHI HAVEN’T GIHIVEN UHUP!” you contended, pressing your arms down against your sides as hard as possible. Loki was impressed that you actually were succeeding in limiting his range of motion.

“Still trying to fight me, darling? Just accept your defeat.” He yanked his hands out from under your arms, flitting his fingers around your neck and ears and grinning as your shoulders shrugged up involuntarily. The volume and desperation of your laughter had faded a bit to more of a stream of bubbly giggles.

“Ohohoh I dohohon’t THINK soho!!”

He’d allowed you too much of a reprieve, providing you with the opportunity to grasp the muscles just above his kneecaps and squeezing rapidly. With a bark of a laugh, his fingers left your neck and shot down to close around your wrists. He had a lower threshold of tolerance at this point, pushing your wrists away from his knees. You whined, throwing your weight into trying to break past his defenses and reconnect with your target spot again.

Loki was laughing even though you were no longer tickling him, twisting his hands to link his fingers through yours. You pressed your palms against his in an attempt to shove him. He gave in just the slightest bit, allowing you to push his hands back a few inches before suddenly pushing you right back with a smirk. You grunted in frustration, your eyes narrowed with sheer determination.

He wasn’t expecting you to suddenly throw yourself forward, hurling all of your weight into his hands. He’d been planning to let you push him a little bit, so his hold was too loose to prevent you from shoving him. Your body collided with his, knocking him onto his back on the sofa as you fell down on top of him.

Time stood still for a moment. Loki simply laid there in shock as you lifted yourself up on your elbows to look him in the eye. Your face was bright, eyes shimmering with the exertion of your laughter, lips drawn up into a wide smile. A strand of your hair had fallen into your face during the struggle, but you didn’t seem to notice. You emanated beauty in its simplest form.

Gods, he wanted to kiss you.

He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Even if you’d remained hovering over him for a few more moments, he knew he wouldn’t have the courage to try. But none of that mattered, because your fingertips found their way to his sides and began kneading into the sensitive spot through his shirt, and he lost his mind.

“Ha-HA! I discovered your weak spot, didn’t I?!” you exclaimed gleefully. Attempting to save face, he began yelling threats at you through his bright laughter that he clearly didn’t mean, trying desperately not to hurt you as he tried to pry your wrists away from his sides. “Loki, just admit that I win!”

“OH-HOHO NO, I THINK NOHOT!”

Loki wrapped his arms around your waist, digging into the backs of your ribs. You collapsed on top of him in a fit of hysterics, fingers stilled against his sides as you laughed into his chest. He desperately hoped you interpreted his rapid heartbeat as the result of his frantic laughter. He tickled you until your shoulders shook with silent laughter, finally halting his attack and rubbing a firm hand up and down your back as you released the last few giggles pent up in your throat.

You mumbled something incoherent into his chest, the vibrations of your voice buzzing against his sternum. Chuckling warmly, he tapped you gently on the back of your shoulder.

“I didn’t understand a word you just said, darling.”

You lifted your head up, leaning your chin against his chest. “I said you cheated.”

“Whahat? You’re the one who literally threw yourself on me,” he argued.

“Uh-uh, you made me fall on you!” you retorted. With a smirk, you added, “Better be careful – people might get the wrong idea if they see us like this.”

Loki was silent for a moment, gazing up at you with wide eyes. Gradually, your teasing smirk fell from your face, replaced with a slight frown of confusion. You pushed yourself off the god, kneeling on the sofa beside him as he sat himself upright.

“Loki? What’s wrong?”

“I…” He found he couldn’t hold your gaze any longer, turning to look down at his hands in his lap. His mind was reeling, trying to find the words, but he was coming up short. He tried not to flinch in surprise when he felt your hand rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Loki,” you mumbled, your voice hushed and timid, a tone he’d never heard you use before. So uncertain, so unsure. So uncharacteristic of the fireball he knew you to be. “I didn’t mean to insinuate.”

“What?” He finally turned to meet your gaze again, finding he couldn’t when he saw your eyes were turned down to peer at your hands as you played absently with your fingers.

“I just mean I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable. Joking about you being… intimate with a mortal.”

He sat up straighter, turning himself to face you more fully. On pure instinct, he scooped up both your hands in his and squeezed them tight. Your face tilted up to look at him, confusion written all over your face.

“That doesn’t make me uncomfortable. Not in the slightest.”

Your face softened a bit, still with an air of uncertainty. “Then what’s wrong? If you weren’t upset with me?”

“I… it’s just…” He struggled to find the right thing to say, gazing down at your hands cupped in his. Your hands were soft, your fingers slender, gentle but strong. Resting in his own larger hands, they looked so small. But nothing about you was insignificant. Your hands fit perfectly in his own, the warmth of your skin pleasant against the coolness of his.

“Oh.”

Loki’s head whipped up to look at your face again, seeing a sudden light of recognition in your eyes. He felt a prickling warmth in his cheeks under the weight of your gaze.

“You… like me?”

“Like you?” He laughed despite himself, and suddenly the words began spiling out. “Norns, darling, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed in all this time. I don’t like you, I’m in love with you. I love you.”

“Oh.”

The tiniest of smiles tugged at your lips, making Loki smile broadly. He released one of your hands in favor of reaching up to cup your face in his palm, losing himself in the color of your eyes.

“I… I’d like to kiss you. Would that be alright?”

You giggled, gods that adorable, beautiful sound. “Yes, Loki. I’d like that.”

He leaned in, slanting his lips across yours at long last. You surged into his touch, throwing your arms around his neck and returning his kiss with a fiery passion that was much more like the person he’d fallen in love with than the timid one you’d been moments ago. His fingers slid around your neck and tangled in your hair, his other hand wrapping around your waist. It was pure bliss, kissing you. You tasted sweet like strawberries.

You broke away from his lips to breathe, a radiant smile plastered to your face. Judging by the way your grin widened when your eyes met his, he, too, wore an impossibly wide smile. Seemingly unable to contain yourself, you launched yourself back at the god to capture his lips with yours once again. Loki allowed himself to melt into your embrace as you kissed him fervently.

Yes, Loki had come a long way in the last few years. Gone were the days where he'd ridicule his brother for falling in love with a mere mortal. Because you weren't 'merely' anything. You were a bright light in Loki's world.

You’d been in chains, on your way to the dungeons of Asgard to await trial before Odin, recently defeated by your brother and Midgard’s vigilante crew. Spotting a weak point in a guard’s stance, you quickly turned the tables and freed yourself of their hold, their chains, and made a break for an exit. As soon as you’d lost them, you rounded a corner to be met with some very peculiar looking… mortals? They dressed somewhat like Midgardians. They exited magical orange doors, they held sticks that sparked menacingly on one end. They somehow overpowered you.

The mere memory was embarrassing.

The next thing you knew, you were forced into a horrid jumpsuit and standing before a woman who dared to deem herself worthy of judging you. She sat in a position of power, of presumed knowledge, but, by the gods, if she really knew anything she’d be begging for your mercy instead of speaking down to you with such audacity.

“How do you plead?” She folded her hands and pursed her lips with an exasperating air of superiority.

“How do I plead?” You scoffed. “You do understand who I am, do you not?”

“I think I understand.”

The voice from behind you turned your head to see a silver-haired moustached man sitting three or four rows from the front of the courtroom. He was, in fact, the only observer besides the guards. “Permission to approach the bench?” He stood and gave an innocent, friendly look to the judge. His demeanour and his tone of voice, coupled with the way he approached the large wooden bench without waiting for confirmation, told you he did not care much for formalities.

The judge sighed and allowed him close for a hushed conversation. “I gave you one two days ago!” She whispered loudly. Your brow furrowed as you tried to pick up pieces of their conversation.

“We lost another squad of Minutemen just a few hours ago and I’ve got a pretty good handle on the one I’ve got. Come on, Ravonna. Surely you’d agree two heads are better than one?”

“We’re not talking about heads, we’re talking about Lokis,” she hissed, shooting a wary glare to where you stood. “I was under the impression you needed that specific Variant.”

The moustached man chuckled and looked up at her earnestly. “The more the merrier-”

“No, Mobius.” She shook her head.

“Come on, just one more,” he urged softy, and you saw her resolve begin to weaken. “They step out of line, I’ll prune ‘em myself,” he promised. You may have found his gentle smile comforting if you hadn’t picked up that pruning meant certain death.

Perhaps those two… beings were romantically involved. Perhaps he had some kind of information on her, because the stern-looking “judge” ultimately relinquished custody of you to this Mobius character, despite looking quite displeased at the very notion of doing so.

“We need your help,” Mobius explained as you followed him down a hallway and you caught glimpses of a cutting-edge city scape, the elaborate paths which their floating vehicles travelled between strangely shaped buildings with curved edges and a retro tint.

“Of course you do,” you agreed, stopping to stand beside him as he waited by a door guarded by two uniformed women. “With what, exactly?”

He answered with a nod to one of the guards, who nodded back and opened the door to a large interrogation room. A table stood resolute in the middle. At that table, a man. Even sitting down, his long limbs gave away his towering height. The way the light struck his face as he turned to glower at you two in the door betrayed his sharp features and the way his eyebrows were lowered to match his sneer.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed to Mobius. “Is that your brilliant plan? Bore me into compliance?”

Mobius merely smiled. “Loki, meet… yourself,” he said as he led you into the room. You pulled your upper arm from his grasp and huffed, turning your attention to the tall dark-haired man sitting at the table in the centre of the room. He wore a jumpsuit like yours, and a look of sceptical distaste - also like yours.

“You must have me mistaken,” you stood up straight and pointed at the man. “There‘s no way this… this gargantuan being is me, I mean,” you scoffed, eyeing him up and down. “Look at him.”

The man also scoffed and held a palm out to you, smiling playfully at the Agent. “Very funny, Mobius, ha-ha. Quite enjoyable. Perhaps a more convincing ruse next time?”

Mobius’ sly smile widened. “You two are proving my point so perfectly.” He thumbed through some files in his hands as you and the man looked at him incredulously. Mobius looked up and gestured with his hand, a lazy wave for you to keep speaking. “Oh no, please do continue. Every bit of watching you interact may be useful in understanding how your Variant will respond to seeing one or both of you in the field.”

“Our?”

“What?”

You both spoke and scoffed at the same time, then shot each other a simultaneous glare. Mobius chuckled.

“Oh, now this is too good. Seriously.” He lowered his voice to an excited whisper. “You know, we’re not supposed to have two variants in the same place, but I don’t get it. This is pretty fun, if you ask me.”

A sudden sharp knock at the door turned all three heads in the room.

“Mobius,” a tall woman with dark skin wore a solemn look. One that Mobius adopted all too easily. Something had happened. “Another attack. In 1863.”

“Let me guess. America?”

“This Variant loves their wars,” the breathless hunter ducked her head in concession. “We need to move out.”

Mobius approached you and slotted a key into the collar around your neck, removing it in what you assumed to be a gesture of good will.

“Alright, you two behave,” Mobius turned tail and rushed towards the door. “I’d say get to know each other but, you know…” he smiled to himself, clearly very amused with his own wit.

“Mobius!” The man at the table stood with clenched fists, but the agent had shut and locked the door with you two inside. The tall dark-haired man slammed his hands on the table and sat back down, refusing to look at you. Rolling your eyes, you decided to take the seat opposite; if you’d be stuck in here with him, perhaps you could have some fun antagonising him. Sure, you looked small, but you had the strength of your frost giant blood coursing through your veins. If he wanted a fight, he’d probably severely underestimate you. Anything to quench the boredom. ”Who’re you?” He demanded, looking you dead in the eye as you settled into back into your seat, crossing your feet up on one side of the table.

“Who are you?” You countered.

“I am Loki, of Asgard,” he said with a semblance of authority. As if it should instil fear in you.

You chuckled. “Let me guess, your brother is Thor, your adoptive parents Frigga and Odin. Oh, you’re probably the God of Mischief too!” You laughed, rolling your eyes again.

He set his jaw and grunted. “Yes.”

You stopped laughing and gave him a look. “Drop the charade. There’s no way in the Nine Realms you’re fooling me into believing you are a variant of me.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Look at you, you’re gigantic.”

“I’m a frost giant.”

“So am I!”

“Perhaps you’re just more of a runt,” he drawled. “With your size I doubt Laufey wouldn’t have killed you on sight, rather than simply cast you out. He’d probably accuse his Queen of an affair with a Dwarven race,” he spat venomously.

“Ah,” you clicked your tongue and settled your folded arms. “You are well-researched, aren’t you? It won’t work. I’m not telling you anything,” you sniffed with a shrug.

“I do believe is it you who must prove to me that you are, in fact, a Loki.”

“You’ve yet to prove it to me,” you countered. Then, simultaneously, you both sighed. That prompted you to eye each other warily.

He sat up a little straighter and eyed you. “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, we’re both Lokis.”

“Ugh,” you wretched.

“Lovely,” he sneered. “In order to prove it, we’d have to use knowledge only a Loki would know. No historical event-”

“No family tree-”

“No recounting of mischief or something I’ve owned.”

“Or anything I’ve said.”

He narrowed his eyes further. “We clearly have very different bodies, so how could we be-”

“Men or women?”

He paused and smirked. “A bit of both. But one glance at history would tell a TVA Agent that.”

You sighed in agreement. “Do you find it hard to sleep with the lights on?”

“Yes. Do your ears itch when it’s cold?”

“Most of the time. Your left hip,” you pointed. “Does it click in the mornings.”

“When I’m tired,” he confirmed, perfectly passing your test. “Which is the stiffer side of your neck?”

“The left,” you said, horrified to slowly be coming to terms with the potential fact that this man really was you. You still couldn’t be sure. “Firm or soft pillows?”

He smirked. “One of each.”

“Damn you,” you slapped the table. “I still don’t believe it,” you crossed your arms again and scowled.

He kept his smirk and leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps Mobius was telling the truth.”

“I refuse to believe that. Look at you. How can you sneak around with all that… mass? Hardly good for mischief.”

“Rude,” he frowned. Yet again, you rolled your eyes.

“I’ll need something conclusive,” you raised your nose, crossing your arms tighter across your chest. “Since you seem to have fallen for his tricks. Tell me something only a Loki would know.”

“You make demands like a child,” he deadpanned.

“Rude,” you frowned. Then, you smirked. “Can’t prove it, can you?”

He crossed his own arms and glanced to the side in thought. Slowly, a satisfied smile came to his lips.

“What?” You asked, not liking the look in his eye when he turned back to you.

“That one spot on your back… you know the one? The one that’s deathly ticklish.”

You scoffed. “There you have it. I’m not ticklish.”

The lie spilled from your lips, as it had several dozen times before, to save you from a potential impending attack. To save you from the embarrassment of people finding out perhaps you didn’t mind it as much as other people.

But, shit, if this man was you... he’d see right through it.

“Yes you are,” he grinned deviously, standing to his feet.

“Hey,” you uncrossed your feet and put them on the ground, instinctively cowering away as he towered above you across the table.

“Not only that,” he chuckled at your nervous shuffling to your feet. “I’d wager a bet I know exactly the spots that make you scream.”

“W-well, then I know your spots too!” You scrambled to your feet and got to the other side of the table, making sure to be dead-centred on the other side to him.

“There’s no magic in here, runt,” he snickered. “Good luck fighting me off.”

“Piss off!” You growled, dodging the other way as he tried to round the table towards you.

“Oh, but you wanted me to prove it to you,” he taunted, slamming his hands down on the table, making you flinch. He lowered his head down in a predatory glare. “Now... come here and submit like a good little Variant.”

“No!” You dodged him again, then stepped away from the table as he leaned over it to make a grab for you.

“Come now,” he teased in a low growl. “Let’s not make this harder than it needs to BE!” With that last word, he vaulted over the table to bear down on you. You yelped and ran the other way, but he caught you around the upper arm before you could do much in the way of escaping. You twisted and escaped his grasp, forward-rolling beside his leg to run to the other side of the room.

His loud footsteps came up your six and you turned, knocking his grasping fingers away with your forearm against his. Then again, knocking his other arm away. You tried kicking at his stomach, but he caught your foot in his hand and gave it a rough pull, sending you off-balance and forwards into his arms. You struggled and grappled with him for several seconds as he pulled you down to the ground and you tried to squirm out of his grasp.

“PISS OFF!” You yelled as he flipped you harshly onto your front, sat himself down on your hips, gathering your swatting wrists, and then pinned them against your back with one of his own.

“Now,” he huffed, catching his breath from the exertion of the struggle. “Let’s see if you’re truly me.” His voice had turned low, mischievous, dangerous. You grimaced, knowing exactly how much mercy you’d show if you were in his position. You struggled and strained, but then flinched when you felt his fingers glide down from your shoulder blade and stop at a place halfway down your back, halfway between your spine and your side, on a very sensitive part of the musculature of the back of your torso.

Your eyes widened, and you realised he was, without a doubt, you.

He dug his fingers into the spot and you exploded into spluttering laughter, kicking your feet against the ground behind you as you laughed and squealed against the linoleum floor. “NAHANO! NO!” You shook your head and pulled on your wrists as he drilled and massaged little circles around the spot, sending ticklish shockwaves pulsing throughout your back.

“Hmm, maybe you are me,” Loki taunted. You could hear the grin on his lips. “Best to make sure though, wouldn’t you agree?”

“YOUHOU SON OF A -AHA NO!” You shrieked when his slipped his fingers down to the side, squeezing at your lowest ribs before scratching his fingers up and down the very sides of your ribcage. You gasped for air before laughing even harder, slamming your feet against the ground as he pressed his fingers further under, digging at the spaces towards the front of your middle ribs. A scream escaped you as you fought to tear your wrists from his grasp, but he had mass and gravity on his side. He paused his movements and retracted his hand from underneath you, allowing you to catch your breath.

If he was you, you knew he’d have a weak point in his hold. You twisted your wrists in his hands and ripped them free before using all of your inherent frost-giant strength to turn yourself over underneath him and shoot your hands out to squeeze at his hips. He gave a surprised laugh and buckled forward, grabbing your wrists. His strength may outweigh yours due to his size, but you’d already begun weakening him with your ticklish pulses as his hipbones.

“Two can play at this game, fake Loki!” You taunted as laughter bubbled over from his chest, and he turned to pull himself away. When he realised he couldn’t stand up from his laughter, he let himself fall forward to smother you. “OOF!” Half the wind left your lungs but you quickly recovered, wrapping your arms around to dig all ten fingers into that horrifically ticklish spot on his back.

“Yohou CREHETIN!” He laughed helplessly, still somewhat crushing you with his full weight. He shook and jolted with laughter and slammed his hands down next to your head, lifting himself to hover over you so you couldn’t reach that spot anymore. Though, the second he gave you a menacing glare, your hands were in his armpits. He spluttered and yelped with laughter before falling on top of you once again, this time knocking more air from your lungs and your hands from their place of attack.

“Ohow!” You whined, wincing and going a bit still as Loki recovered from his laughter. “Ahare you quite done?” You pushed against his shoulder which was holding some pressure against your clavicle, then freezing when you heard his deep malicious chuckle boom through his chest and vibrate against yours. He slid a hand over and gripped your jaw, turning it to the side. “N-no,” your voice a hoarse whisper, your eyes going wide. “Y-you wouldn’t.” You started struggling, trying to pull your face from his grasp as he shifted his other shoulder, propping himself up on his elbow, creeping his fingers your neck. “No. No, no, NO! I’d never do this to myself!!” You squeaked and tried to fight harder but you were weakening by the second from how flustered you felt.

“Given how hard you’re fighting,” Loki clicked his tongue and shifted his hand, pressing your cheek into the floor, “I’d say I’m pretty confident we’re one and the same.”

His fingers met your neck, flitting and fluttering over the skin as you descended into high-pitched squealing laughter. You’d have tried to fight back, to target his weak points, but you’d lost control of your limbs the second he’d swiped his fingers at the sensitive skin under your ear. You squeaked and twitched beneath him, only the smallest sounds escaping you - your hearty laughter was trapped in your chest. You managed to burst out into some loud shrieking when he scratched his blunt nails under your jawline and down to the space where your neck became your shoulders. You’d have begged him to stop, but you couldn’t form the words, and you knew he wouldn’t stop until he’d had his fun.

Finally, all that built up laughter escaped you in a mighty screech when he backed off enough to let you breathe. He flinched and turned his head away at the piercing noise. “Little banshee,” he huffed, then retracted his fingers and released your jaw. You turned and glowered up at him before manoeuvring your knee to hit against his godhood. “Gods,” he gasped out and went limp, and you shoved him off to the side before scrambling down to wrap yourself around his legs while he was preoccupied with the pain.

You growled a chuckle as he gave you a pained look and saw you weaving yourself around his lower-half, locking his thighs with your calves. “Your turn.”

Wrapping an elbow firmly around his calves to hold them back, you kept your head out of range of his feet as you lightly scribbled your fingertips against the backs of his knees.

“H-HEHEY!” He laughed out and thrashed, still recovering from your hit. “YOU DIRTY LIHITTLE- HEY!” He yelled out and then fell into more laughter than pain, writhing under your touch. You laughed victoriously, evilly, as you fluttered your fingers at the fabric behind his knees, tickling at the delightfully sensitive skin that lay beneath. With all the strength in you, you flipped your locked bodies to force his front down to the floor, you underneath his legs, clinging to them as he sought to kick out at you. “I-HI WILL GUHUT YOU LI-”

“Like a fish, I know,” you smirked, slipping your hand around to squeeze at the muscle above his kneecap. “Have you ever had an original thought in your life, or are all your threats lower-grade versions of mine?” You squeezed a steady pulse at his knee and his fist slammed against the ground, legs fighting to break free from your encasement. His laughter became more desperate, more frustrated as you tried your hand at a new technique. Instead of pulsing in and out, you dug your fingers deep into his leg and rotated the tips in little frantic circles. Loki yelled out and choked a laugh before his laughter became near-silent. He slammed another fist on the ground and you felt his body weaken. Perhaps now would be a good time to target his neck. Return the favour.

Sensing his need for air, you stopped your harsher torture in favour of making him giggle with tiny pokes to the back of his thigh. He twitched and snivelled as he caught his breath, propping himself up on his elbows to turn and glower at you maniacally. “Ohoho… you are in trouble, Variant,” he spat. “Everything you do to me, I will reign down tenfold on- s-stop it!”

You’d raised your eyebrow at him and started wiggling your fingers into those same spaces behind his knee. He gave you a warning glare, you gave him a cheeky smirk. Loki snarled and shoved his hands into the ground, flipping himself back onto his front and sitting up. You gasped and tried to unwind yourself from his legs, but he reached down and snatched you up by your waist, snaking his arms around your torso before forcing you to sit up with your back flush against his chest. You struggled and slapped at his arms, then took the chance to reach up and grab at his hair. As soon as you lifted your arms, his fingers shot up to dig into your armpits.

You giggled hard and clamped your arms down, arching your back against his digging and wiggling. But, you soon learned, it was all a distraction to weaken you, to distract you from his true intentions to enact the revenge you’d so foolishly supplied him with. He pulled you down as he pressed his back to the floor, then rolled to pin you under him, digging his fingers deeper into the soft space beneath your arms. He snickered at your shrieking giggles and blew some air against your neck, causing you to squeak and twitch, before he removed his hands and got to his knees where he was once again straddling your waist. This time, he turned in a swift motion to be facing the other way, reached down and wrapped his large palms around the backs of your knees to rest his thumbs and middle fingers on the pressure points above your kneecaps.

You gasped. “W-wait! You already got a bad spot of mine!” You squeaked, trying to prop yourself up to turn around. Looking at him as best you could, you saw yourself in his eyes. You understood that air of mischief, that delight in the playfulness, that mutual understanding that this whole thing was fun, and completely in your natures. You winced, trying to peek at where his body shielded your knees from his view, then groaned and placed your head back down on your hands. He laughed, clicked his tongue, then attacked.

On a silver platter, you’d handed him an ultimate pressure point. Not bothering with a standard squeezing of the leg, Loki went straight for your technique and pressed his fingers in deep before wiggling and vibrating them against the weak points in the muscles. You screamed out with laughter and pounded your fists against the ground for Freyja knows how long, your hoarse laughter soon turning to breathless squeals as he made your tactics even worse by targeting one leg at a time, kneading the muscles and fluttering at the skin behind your knee. Just as you thought he may be relenting, he swapped to the other leg and started all over again. He squeezed and prodded without relent, never letting a particularly violent thrash go unnoticed. If you’d scream out when he did something on one knee, he’d chuckle and then test it on the other. More often than not, it was a mirror-imaged death spot.

Tears of mirth brimmed in your eyes as he tickled you senseless, shouting taunts over his shoulder. Every so often he’d stop for a few moments, turn to you and say something like, “Oh dear, did you think it was over?” or “You’re not getting off so easy, little runt,” before he’d have you screeching with laughter again mere seconds later.

Just as you were beginning to wonder how much more you could take, the door to the room slid open and several Minutemen ran in with Mobius in the lead. His expression turned from a reigned-in worry to one of endeared scolding as he told Loki to get off you. After a final few particularly deep kneads of his fingers, and shockingly ticklish swipes at the backs of your legs, Loki relented and stepped off your body.

You lay limp on the floor, several tear tracks running down your cheeks as you gulped breath into your lungs and coughed out residual laughs. After a final few coughs, you slumped down once again and pressed your cheek to the floor with your eyes closed.

“So dramatic,” Loki scoffed as he nudged you with the toe of his shoe. “I barely touched you.”

“Liar,” you mumbled, allowing the Minutemen to pull you to your feet. One of them shined a flashlight into your eye to test if you were responsive. Loki scoffed again and folded his arms as they determined you were fine, just worn out, and they pushed you over to stand next to your fellow Variant.

“If you two can cooperate for long enough to listen to my offer, you might find each other to be a more useful friend than enemy, or… whatever that was,” Mobius nodded to the floor with his head and then turned to place a stack of files on the table. He turned back with a sigh, placing his hands on his hips as he gave you two an unreadable look. “Your variant attacked another squad of Minutemen. Stole their reset charges. If you help us catch the variant, there may be something in it for you.”

You and Loki looked at each other, then back at Mobius, who signalled for some administrative staff to wheel in several cartfuls of files. “An audience with the Timekeepers?” Loki asked, skepticism rife in his question.

“We’ll see,” Mobius gave him a meaningful look. “Depends on how useful you two are. Just here, guys,” he spoke to the staff, who left the carts by the table and then make a quick exit from the room. One of them, a shorter dark-haired man, gave Loki an adorably angry look before scurrying back around the corner.

“What’s all this?” You nodded to the files.

“The entire history of you,” he answered, then turned to four carts place to the side. “And these,” he walked over, “are the files on your Variants. One day we’ll need a Loki section of the library,” he sighed, pulling a file from the middle. “Perhaps you two can put your heads together and come up with something that’ll help us catch your variant. Earn yourself a little something in the process.”

He held out a file to each of you, raised his eyebrows in question, and waited for you to take the files as a signal of agreement. You held your breath, looked at Loki from the side of your eye, then bit your tongue and accepted the file at the exact same time as your taller variant.

“Great,” Mobius chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets and shaking his head with a wide smile. “This is just great.” He nodded once and then made his way towards the door. “I’ll be back after my lunch break. Try to get along until then.”

With that, the doors shut behind him and you were alone with Loki once more. He broke the silence by opening his file, and then so did you. You both walked to your original seats and sat, reading through the tales of your wayward variant.

The occasional chuckle left you both, and you’d sometimes interrupt the other to recount a particularly impressive escape or scheme. Proud of your variant self, it filled your heart with pride to see that another version of you was so intelligent and quick-thinking. Stealing a glance over at Loki, you smiled to yourself, strangely comforted despite being trapped in a Twilight Zone that you hadn’t quite figured out how to escape. If these files were any reassurance, you knew you’d figure it out eventually. So as your fellow variant laughed, you listened intently as he told you a story from his file, allowing a smile to come to your cheeks.

Loki's voice was as smooth as honey – a sound you could listen to forever. The dark chuckles that vibrated in his chest caused you to bite your bottom lip – your eyes looking widely up into his.

"You should know," you muttered – responding to his previous question. "You've listened in on my thoughts, so you should know how touch-starved I am."

Loki chuckled – pulling his chin to his chest so he could look at you closer. "I know you're a little touch-starved slut," he grinned. His sinful words lit your core on fire – the ache in between your thighs growing more unbearable. "I know you're a little whore who wants to be fucked so hard you forget how to speak." Loki pulled you close, and you rested your cheek on his chest. "I know that you want me to fill you more than anyone else ever has before." Loki's sinful words made your knees go weak – if he wasn't holding you up, you're sure you would've collapsed by now. The god can hear the affect he's having on you just from the way you're breathing – more like panting. "Come."

Loki grabbed your hand and led you off the dance floor. Like two teenagers, the two of you sneaked away from the party – Loki soon enveloping the two of you in a green cloud and taking the two of you to his room. Once the two of you were in his room - his body was immediately holding yours against the wall – his touch just mere centimeters away.

"Please," you moaned through your parted lips. "Please, my Lord."

Loki hummed at the title you gave him. "My Lord?" he chuckled darkly – his lips ghosting before yours. "I must say, little one – that's a new one." Loki stepped back a bit – wanting to see your body in its entirety. His eyes scanned your form – unconsciously biting his bottom lip as you modeled for him. "Promise me something, my little touch-starved whore."

The degrading name made the fire burn hotter in your core – causing your slick to begin to leak through your panties.

"Anything, my Lord," you breathed out.

Loki stepped closer to you – his body just millimeters from yours – his hands so close to touching your skin that you could practically feel him already.

"If I allow you to use me to your satisfaction," Loki began darkly in your ear, "then you will allow me to use you as I please." You closed your eyes – the thought of him letting you use him as you wished sending a bolt of electricity throughout your body.

"Yes," you choked out – almost being undone just by his words alone.

Loki chuckled. "Just so we're clear – little one – you are mine." His voice was dark, gravelly, and the possessive nature made you whimper against the wall. "You must follow all of my rules...never touch yourself without permission...and if anyone else touches you in any way...well, we don't want that to happen, now do we?"

"No sir," you panted – trying your hardest not to grab him.

With a dark smirk on his face, Loki finally grabbed you – his hands making their way to your hair where they tangled in it as his mouth devoured your lips.

Passion wasn't something you had expected from him, but you weren't complaining. You've never been kissed as deep as Loki is was kissing you – demanding your mouth to stay open for him while he explored it with his tongue – kissing you so hard that your teeth collide together. His words from earlier replayed in your head as the god was pinning you against the wall. If I allow you to use me to your satisfaction.