Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’ll break their hearts running off like that.” His chilly voice pierces the night like a dagger, forcing her to search every corner of the deserted patio as the door slams shut behind her.

“Excuse me?” Her shoulders jump up to her ears as she peers into the darkness, looking for anyone else he could be talking to as she squints in mild intoxication.

“They all want you in their own way, don’t they?” His pale cheekbones cut into the light as he steps out of the shadows, his slender frame draped in black. “Buying you drinks, paying you compliments in hopes to win your favor.” He takes his time walking around her, pointing in her direction with a glass half full of whiskey as if it were some kind of prop in his performance. “And you? Well, you’re beautiful, smart, charming, sure, but you’ve heard that all before, haven’t you?” He smiles as if he knows the secrets of every single person he’s ever met, including hers. “You’ve heard every line from every book they’ve used to try and chip away at that cold exterior of yours, but none of it really works, does it?”

“I, uhh,” she stares at him with her mouth wide open, wondering how someone so attractive could notice all these little things about her without her noticing them in return. This was the very first she’s seen of this handsome stranger, at least that she can recall, anyways. Surely she’d remember someone so tragically beautiful that the angles of his face reminded her of a medieval painting you’d only be able to find in a museum.

He ignores her mindless stuttering and continues on with his lecture, circling in a little closer. “You let them believe they can have you for a moment, a day even, or maybe a little longer, knowing full well that you have no intention of giving them more than a glimpse of who you really are.”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” She realizes only now that she’s been walking backwards the whole time he’s been waltzing around her, her naked shoulders abruptly meeting the cool brick wall of the building.

“Not yet,” he smirks with a tilt of his head, “but I know you.” He stops his orbit around her as her back hits the wall, advancing forward after he empties the liquor from his glass. “I’ve been watching you, noticing how much energy you take from each little moment, saving up for when you’re finally in bed at night wondering why you’re all alone.”

What the hell? Did he just say that he’s been watching her? Is he trying to psychoanalyze her whole personality from just a few interactions he witnessed her in at the bar? Should she be worried about what’s in her drink? She glances down and covers it with her palm.

“Well, that’s one hell of a guess, Mister…” She tries to play it cool as he gets closer.

“Loki,” he introduces himself finally, “Just Loki.”

“Loki?” Wait a minute, where has she heard that name before? “Not the ‘God of Mischief’, Loki?”

“None other.” He sets his drink down on the table behind him, lifting both hands up toward his chest in prideful presentation.

“Right.” She nods and takes one last sip of her drink, figuring he must be one of the new drag performers she just hasn’t seen yet. That would explain his accent at least, and maybe even his name. “Well, ‘Just Loki’, are we talking about me here, or are we talking about you? Because that seems oddly specific.”

He looks stunned for a moment, as if he wasn’t fully expecting her to fire back so quickly, but immediately shakes it off. “Oh, I could talk about you all night,” he redirects.

“Really?” She follows suit and sets her drink on the table to her right, making a mental note not to drink from it again. “And why is that? What does a god like you want with a simple someone like me?”

“You’ve piqued my interest.” He pauses as he gets close enough for her to notice his scent, faintly reminiscent of freshly cut evergreens in the middle of winter.

“How lucky for me.” Her skepticism is her only defense against the connection she feels linking the two of them together; an irrefutable invisible line that continues to become more visible as he closes the gap between them.

“You and I aren’t that different, you know.” He stares at her with icy blue eyes, a deep sorrow weighing them down as they study every inch of her face.

“Cast aside, overlooked, underestimated until we finally speak up, demanding to be seen for who we truly are only to be pushed back down behind everyone else. So you come here, of all places, searching for that validation, longing to be chosen over and over again just so you can reject them before they do it to you. You toss your pearls at swine because it’s your only sense of control, the only way you can build that armor up around you so you never have to feel that way again.”

Jesus Christ, he’s right.

“Even now your armor’s on, knives out, ready for battle, but it doesn’t have to be.” The knob to the patio door twists open, unlatching just long enough to let the chorus of Britney Spears’ “Toxic” leak out into the air before he slams it shut with a mere wave of his hand.

“Did you just..?” She glances over at the door as the other patrons attempt to exit the building, their pounding on the heavy metal eventually dying down as they decide to give up their pursuit. He couldn’t have shut that door without even touching it, right? No, that’s not possible, that would be crazy. That would be magic, which would mean…

“These people are beneath you, you’ve always known that.” He ignores your inquiry.

“Have I?” She laughs, attempting to cover up just how right he continues to be, those eyes of his suddenly seeming to look straight into her soul. Maybe he actually is the god of mischief after all.

“You and I both know that’s why you always feel so alone in a room surrounded by people.” He places his hand on her cheek, the sudden act of intimacy freezing her in place. “Why you continue to feel hopelessly empty no matter what you do or where you go. You wouldn’t dare let any of them get close to you, not again, anyways. Because the last time you did that, every time you let someone see you… the real, raw and gentle you,” he leans in as if to kiss her, stopping just short of her lips as his words fade into a whisper. “They used it to hurt you, didn’t they?”

“Maybe.” She holds her breath as he brushes his mouth against hers, the warmth from his lips flushing her cheeks and fluttering down into her chest. How is he doing this? How is he reading her to absolute filth in the back of this random bar on a Thursday night?

Maybe she can suspend her disbelief for the time being and start believing in gods just for the night.

“Haven’t you ever wondered what it would feel like to meet someone without all that armor on? Someone who sees you for exactly who you are?” He tilts her chin up toward him as he finally parts her lips with his, the kiss softer than she imagined; his sharp words and features a mere facade for what truly lies beneath.

“Instead of what they want you to be?” She finishes his thought for him as he breaks the kiss, his lips now venturing over her cheeks and forehead as they turn into a smile.

“There you are.”

Chapter Text

She allows herself to get lost in another kiss, this one more passionate as he smooths his hands around the delicate curves of her jawline, memorizing every muscle that tenses against his touch before eventually relaxing into him. She lets his warmth surround her, cradling her in this sudden sense of security as her lips part again, silently granting him permission to continue tasting her lips. Hints of honey dance over a cool zest of mint before the salt of his tongue overruns her senses, intoxicating her more than the drink she’d consumed before as she finds her own arms venturing up his back.

The distraction of the kiss is just enough to lower his defenses, breaking the temporary spell he’d put on the door as it bursts open, flooding the patio with music and conversation as several annoyed patrons finally make their way out into the open. Without regard to their position near the wall, the crowd spreads out and haphazardly pushes him against her, deepening their kiss as she instinctively pulls him in even closer.

She can feel that invisible line that connected them before, a welcome presence now weaving its way between them, slithering up their legs and wrapping itself around them both. It loops around a few times before pulling them together, tightening itself around their waists and hips before constricting like a serpent, forcing them to breathe in time with each other, their chests flush against the other as they rise and fall in tandem.

“Would you like to get out of here?” He pulls away and looks down at her adoringly, eyes darkening enough to disguise their usual frigid tint as he runs his fingers through her hair.

“Okay,” she nods into a kiss on her forehead as that invisible line loosens but refuses to let go.

He takes her hand and leads her through the drunken crowd of sloppy patrons, looking back for fear she might get lost in it until they eventually clear the fenced-in area. He turns and takes her down the sidewalk she’s been down dozens of times before, keeping her hand in his as their surroundings become less and less familiar. The sound of singing and dancing gradually fades away into the distance as they waltz down a street that somehow lands them in an elaborate yard of gardens at some sort of rich estate.

She clocks the drastic change in scenery with a pause of discernment, knowing full well this place isn’t supposed to be here before looking up into his eyes, their shocking shade of blue now illuminated in the glowing moonlight as he squeezes her hand affectionately. They walk down an aisle of perfectly mowed grass surrounded by topiaries of red, pink and orange roses all sticking out against their darkened green vines. She has to assume that his powers extend far beyond that of slamming a door shut with his mind, that he could control much more than he’s letting on.

“Is this place real?” She asks aloud, more so to herself as they walk farther down the aisle. “I’ve never noticed it before. Did you take us here or is this an illusion?”

She stops in front of one of the plants to check for herself, letting go of his hand to grab hold of a pink flower before brushing her thumb across its delicate petals. It feels real enough as it glides across her skin, the velvety texture of each petal folding over her fingertips in perfect concentric patterns until something sharp pierces her finger, forcing her to hiss and pull back.

“I know, trust doesn’t come easy,” he starts, slowly walking up behind her, the balm of his presence barely numbing the sharp twinge of the thorn. “You’re so used to the pain; what good is pleasure without it?”

He smooths his hands around her shoulders as she freezes in place before tracing them down her forearms, exhaling as he cautiously encircles her wrist. Slowly, he lifts her arm away from the sharp plant, bringing it up toward her face as the wound bleeds a dark, scarlet streak down her knuckle. “What’s all the attention in the world without immediate abandonment?”

He wraps his other arm around her waist, gently pulling her back into him before guiding her arm up past her face. He turns it toward him before briefly blowing on her open wound, forcing the fine hair on the back of her hand to stand on end as his lungs expand against her back. “What is love without resentment when that’s all that you’ve known?”

His words rattle in his chest, vibrating against her back as she holds her breath to properly take in the infallible truth he continues to whisper into her ear. She lets those vibrations move their way through her, sinking into her muscles and settling into her bones before she turns around to face him. She watches as he brings her finger up to his mouth, kissing it at first before blatantly staining his lips with the ruby red hue of her blood. He then starts sucking her finger into his mouth, his tongue soothing her open flesh until he’s confident the pressure of his suckling has stopped the bleeding before loosening his lips around it.

“How will you know how to react; how to feel?” He kisses her finger again before turning it toward her, displaying the swollen digit as it glistens, whole, before her very eyes.

“I don’t,” is all she can manage to say, his other fingers pressing lightly into her pulse. “I wouldn’t.”

She looks around at their new picturesque surroundings, noticing the Grecian ruins in the background that she’d always dreamt of seeing in person, but had never told a single soul about. She quickly realizes that what he’s giving her right now is way more than what she’d always wanted, more than she could dare to ask for out loud. And just like he pointed out mere moments before, she can already feel herself wondering when the other metaphorical shoe will drop, already anticipating the loss of this blissful rush of joy.

“It doesn’t have to be like that for us, not anymore.” He follows her lead and looks around at his choice location, his jaw clenching as he senses her uneasiness. “Would you prefer something indoors?”

She keeps her eyes on him as the midnight blue sky behind him fades to black, darkening the shadows that morph and shift their way across his face as the details of an aged brick wall forms in its place. She can feel the soft, moldeable earth beneath her feet stiffen into hardwood flooring, her legs quaking, stomach churning slightly with an odd sense of displacement despite not having actually moved at all.

“Perhaps you’d prefer this?” He takes a step back from her, holding onto her hand until she gets her bearings and nods for him to let go. Once the world stops turning and her equilibrium settles, she looks around and notes that they’re now standing in a medieval style bedroom. Its ancient worn-down walls are adorned with emerald green tapestries and portraits of old, hanging over a king size bed in front of a sofa by a fire.

“This should be cozy enough.” He walks over to the coffee table in front of the sofa set with the fanciest tea set she’s ever seen in her life.

“Cozy?” She turns around at a slow, three hundred and sixty degree angle in order to take everything in again, noticing a stained glass window just above the staircase behind her. “It’s more than that, it’s… it’s beautiful. It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Loki smiles at her blatant adoration, pouring two cups of whatever’s been steeping in the gold and green pot with delicate precision. He sets it down as the steam rises from both cups, arching a brow as he glances up at her momentarily. “It’s far enough away from anyone who knows your family, anyone who might know your sister.”

“My sister?” She asks sharply, a heavy sense of dread washing over her as she wonders what her sister could possibly have to do with anything, or how he knows about her at all. “Why would you bring her up?”

“Just to see your reaction,” he admits slyly, loosening his tie as he glares at her.

“My reaction?” She tilts her head in an attempt to disguise the sensitive subject he’s landed on, hoping soon to change it. “What reaction?”

“I can’t assume it’s easy carrying all that rage around with you,” he smirks, pulling his tie out from beneath his collar and setting it down onto the sofa. “I know how heavy it is for me, and I’ve had centuries to learn how to deal with it.” He shrugs out of his jacket and begins unbuttoning his dress shirt, locking eyes onto hers as he steps in her direction.

“Rage?” She watches his fingers work their way down his black dress shirt as he approaches her, tempting her as they deftly work their way down his garment. “I… I don’t have any rage.”

The fire suddenly pops one of the logs open inside its hearth, causing her to jump. Embers explode up into the air as the wood expands and breaks it apart, sending pieces of it tumbling down the pile into a gray bed of ash. She stares at the pyre, entranced by its warm, violent beauty before looking back up at him as he exposes his perfectly sculpted chest, button by button, until he unfastens his shirt completely.

Good God, he’s beautiful.

“No?” He nods toward her chest as he removes his shirt, pulling the sleeves off his wrists before tossing it onto the sofa with the rest of his clothes. “You can call it whatever you like, darling, but I know rage when I see it. All that pent up anger and disdain you hold for her is positively beaming out of you.”

“It is?” The orange glow of the fire reflecting off his porcelain skin seems to have made her forget just how offended she was at the mention of her sibling mere moments ago. The perfect shape of his torso, the breadth of his shoulders as they tower over her seem to wisk those thoughts away temporarily, replacing them with a primal urge for contact. All she can focus on are his taut muscles as they flex without the expensive fabric to cover them up as he lifts his arm to touch her again, halting her breath.

“Here,” he taps her chest with two fingers, “I can feel it.” He slowly drags them down between her breasts, tugging on the hemmed collar of her dress as her heart rate increases exponentially. “All those years of being ignored by father, overshadowed by her incompetence as he continuously showered her with praise and gifts.”

She breathes again, almost having to consciously remind herself to do so.

“But you… you were always the strong one, weren’t you?” He pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulders as her body quivers in anticipation, gliding them down her arms until the garment falls into a pool of fabric at her feet. “You stayed silent, played the part of the obedient daughter because you had no choice, because he was always too busy cleaning up her messes well into adulthood. All the while you were screaming inside, begging for an ounce of attention, of recognition for your accomplishments in hopes that your hard work and fortitude would get him to notice you. But it never did, did it?”

She bites her lip and shakes her head as he peels back yet another layer of her identity as the brisk, cool air of the room prickles gooseflesh across her newly bare skin. The warmth of the fire isn’t enough to stave her body’s excitement, to calm her jittery nerves as the look in his eyes triggers more than his words ever could.

“Where did being the good girl ever get you, hmm?” He grabs hold of her chin and stares at her intently, those eyes of his wet and lustrous with desire.

“Nowhere,” she admits, all but shaking as the word barely leaves her lips.

“Right then, let’s go somewhere together then, shall we?” He brings her face up to his, his breath hot on her cheek before kissing her again.

Chapter Text

“Where I’m from they would have sculpted statues to display your magnificence, painted dozens of portraits for all the realms to witness the perfection of your beauty. But I want to see you step into your power.” His eyes fall down her face as he tugs on her bottom lip, grinning as he watches her mouth open for him. “Your true power.”

Within an instant he snaps his fingers, forcing her bra and underwear to disappear from her body as if they were only an illusion to begin with.

She gasps and looks down at herself, trying her best to mask her complete and utter shock as her nipples harden against nothing; the rest of her body remaining bare before him. She knew this part was coming, that much she can be sure of. All signs had pointed to this since the very first moment she saw him, a more than familiar pattern revealing itself to her despite the magic and soothsaying that came along with it. He may be a god, a wizard or witch of some sort, but he’s still a man where it counts. She at least knows how to navigate around that… or so she thinks.

“I want to see you shed this apologetic, docile version of yourself these humans have molded you into,” he continues, releasing his grip on her face only to step away from her. “Isn’t that what you want, too?”

She nods, the tension between them palpable as his knowing gaze all but eggs her on as she notices the bulge between his thighs. It stretches the black fabric of his dress pants as he walks backward toward the bed, his upper body glowing in the changing light of the fire. His raven locks fall just above his shoulders as the back of his knees finally hit the mattress, halting him in his tracks. But instead of taking her hand and pulling her near like she expects him to, he merely stares at her knowingly, his eyebrows all but disappearing into his hairline as he waits in silence.

Oh, he wants me to…?

Her heart pounds in her chest, thumping heavily against her rib cage as the realization creeps over her like a heavy fog across a sullen morning meadow. She hasn’t initiated physical contact with anyone she’s been with before now. She’s never really had to. All the other partners she’s had before him had innately taken over control, told her what to do, or simply put her in the position they wanted her in, but that wasn’t about to happen here. Not tonight. Not with him. She can see that now.

“T- take off your pants,” she tells him, hoping her tone comes off more assertive than it feels.

He snickers as a slow smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, shaking his head scoldingly. “Don’t ask for it, darling. Demand it.” That smirk turns into a smile as he stands his ground, shifting the weight in his hips. “Try again.”

Try again? Fuck, he’s serious, isn’t he?

She clears her throat and straightens her spine, standing taller than she normally would as she hardens her gaze. “Take off your pants.”

“Make me,” he taunts, a twinkle in his eye showing her just how much he’s enjoying this little game of his.

Jesus.

“Take. Them. Off.” She orders sternly before taking a few steps toward him, closing the gap between them as she attempts to shed all those years of submission in a matter of seconds; her hands all but shaking as they somehow find their way onto his belt. She looks up into his eyes, their faint hue now darkened with want as she unfastens his buckle along with his pants, smoothing her hands beneath the earthly fabric with ease. His skin is softer than she imagined, his muscles almost malleable beneath her palms and she slides his clothes down the curves of his ass.

“That’s it,” he whispers breathily, his mouth falling slack as she finally frees him. “Now take what belongs to you.”

All of time seems to stop as his request unlocks something deep inside of her. Each caress and embrace before this had merely picked the tiny parts of the lock open until his magical phrase finally turned the key; clicking everything into place.

Take what belongs to you, she repeats in her head.

She pushes him onto his back, the soft comforter muffling his fall as he lays there, ready and waiting while she allows the fantasy to take over. She lets herself believe that a god among men really wants her to let go of everything she knows, to relinquish all her inhibitions as he lays willingly at her feet; a sacrifice for the greater good. He’s perfect, an obscene image of absolute beauty as his enormity bobs in full view between his thighs, a single droplet of precum giving away his eagerness to aid in her spiritual transformation. His hands remain patiently at his sides as she crawls onto the bed, his muscles visibly twitching in anticipation as she rakes her fingernails across his skin, forcing his body to roll into her painful touch.

“What belongs to me?” She repeats his words back to him as she scratches the tougher skin on his upper thighs, gliding her nails over his hips as he bucks up in response.

“I do,” he tells her through hooded lids, balling his hands into fists as she pierces little white trails up his abdomen and down his pelvis again, leaving her mark as she gets closer to his groin each and every time. “I belong to you.”

“Just like that?” She teases, getting into character more easily now that he’s beneath her. She licks her lips and looks down at his shaft, practically begging to be touched as she grazes her fingers between his thighs, almost close enough to touch him this time.

“Yes,” he admits, biting his lower lip as she finally spits on the head of his cock. “Yes, just like that.”

“Good.” She grasps him in her palm, feeling her own moisture begin to collect at her center as she strokes him with ease, her own saliva oozing down his member and between her fingers. She watches his face twist in pleasure as she gently licks his tip up and down, over and over again before slowly opening her mouth to take him past her lips. He tastes so different than any other man she’s had before, his impressive girth pushing against her tongue as she relaxes her throat to savor that almost… refreshing flavor of his flesh.

She can feel his hand on the back of her head as she takes in more of him, his long fingers weaving their way into her hair as she consumes every inch with growing fervor. His grip tightens once her lips become flush with his pelvis, her spit now spilling down between his thighs as she nearly gags before coming up for air and starting all over again. She can hear him whisper her name, his voice faint and ethereal, somehow distant yet near. His body writhes beneath her with each thirsty pass over his cock, his fingers all but ripping the hair out of her head before she eventually slows her pace, quieting down his grateful whimpering. Reluctantly, she pulls her messy lips off of him with an audible pop, kissing a trail up his shaft one more time before winking at him.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, you know that, darling?” He smooths his hands through her hair as she climbs up and straddles his hips, resisting the urge to thrust up inside her as she carefully hovers over him.

Instead of flipping her over and having his way with her like he’s used to doing with so many others before, he lets her grab him at his base, squeezing just enough to brew a subtle growl from his throat before spreading her clear coat of neediness over the tip of his dick. Back and forth she goes, like a paint brush over both of their most pleasurable spots, coloring their skin in multiple shades of iridescent hues that only they can begin to see.

“Isn’t this so much easier?” He breathes heavily as he tries to hold back his release, grazing his hands down her body as she continues her good work. “Giving into your desires instead of fighting them?”

“Mmm hmm,” she moans as she uses his body to send herself through the roof, that last magical push of his head over her clit making her body quiver in a bright rainbow of sheer delight.

“It’s what you were made for.” He grasps onto her hips as he watches her come undone, pulling her down onto him as her muscles involuntarily squeeze around him. “What you were born to do.”

That line from before burns a bright white as they finally connect, hot to the touch as it slithers inside them both, moving their spines in time with one another as he rises up to kiss her lips, completing that perfect circle. It bonds them together in a way she can’t quite comprehend, fusing them together as if they’d always been a part of one another, their carnal reunion now blatantly obvious in its inevitability. In this moment, she can’t remember anything else before him, how she survived her everyday mundane life without his touch to excite her, his kiss to calm her or his voice to ring in her ears.

She can feel him stretch her muscles to capacity, holding her in place as he glides in and out of her with moans so beautiful, she swears she’s never heard anything like them before. They only seem to enhance her pleasure as she rises and falls around him, drawing out moans of her own as her fingers get tangled in his hair in an attempt to bring him closer, to taste more of his mouth, but it’s no use. The chorus of his moans mixes in with hers and the steady beat of his upward thrusts until her orgasm forces him to slip up and surrender completely. He can’t help but cry out her name, a muffled plea against her lips as she breaks his threshold, holding onto her for dear life as he coats the inside of her slick, swollen walls with his automatic release.

Her smooth grip pulsates every last drop out of him as her legs find their way around his waist. They tighten around his hips as he continues to frantically spill his pleasure into her until there’s nothing left. She shudders around him, resting her forehead against his as they convulse together in unison, refusing to break contact even the slightest bit. She relishes in the feeling of his sweat blending with hers as it coats her skin, the sensation of his hands on her body and the sound of his heavy breath deepening as their convulsions slowly die down.

“How good does that feel, taking what you want for once?” He kisses her again, closing his eyes to savor the sweetness of her lips before moving on to taste the flavor of her neck as he feels himself ooze out of her onto his pelvis.

“Good,” she whispers, gasping as he bites down onto her clavicle and sucks a deep bruise just below it. “Different at first, but … really good.”

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time for you to practice.” He mouths his way down her chest, lifting her arm up to continue his path of kisses beneath her armpit until the sharp angle of his nose forces her to clench down around him again, halting his own breath in response. “To become who you were always meant to be.” He slowly inhales the pheromones emanating from her axilla, eyes rolling back into his head as he takes in her natural scent. “Before we move onto other things.”

“Other things?” She cradles his face in her hands, forcing him to look up at her as his hands find their way onto her backside, squeezing her cheeks.

“You deserve so much more than what you’ve been given,” he tells her earnestly, the iciness returning to his stare. “So much more than how they’ve treated you.”

She stares at him, all the pleasure and praise almost numbing her into forgetting that he told her about a rage he carries around with him as well.

“And how have you been treated?”

Loki clenches his jaw at the question, eyes watering before peeling her hands off his face and setting them down at her side. “It’s time to rest now, don’t you think?”