Isn't Bite Also Touch?

Isn't Bite Also Touch?

(Loki X Female demon!reader)

Chapter seven! (check chapter 6!)

Summary: A lot of smut following, a bit of angst as they'll fight later on. Is there anything suspicious about the Angel?

Warnings: Smut!! Blasphemy, alcohol, fighting, (physical aggression, scratching) improper use of magic, slapping, verbal insults, screaming, probably a bit of voyeurism, (but not really? Loki's pretty possessive, he's just really mad) hate-sex, rough fuck, mean Loki.

“Not the shoes!” Thor exclaimed scandalously as he watched the scene.

Loki makes a disgusted sound with his throat, stepping carefully and processing the fact there was demon vomit on his new, expensive, on-brand shoes. Messily, as he's still groggy with all the alcohol on his system, he lifts his hand up the air and magically removes the offending substance off his shoes.

“Be careful next time.” He harshly commands, but you're still dizzy and fighting to remain steady, trembling on your feet, his eyes soften as he sees your state. “Is it better now? Do you need to go somewhere?” He asks and receives no answer from you.

“You've never really enjoyed my presence, have you?” The Angel speaks up. It's weird to see you looking so small. “And the first impression I have of you after all these years is of you throwing up, your body has gotten weak.” The Angel repulsively spits out, you refuse to look at him and pull an extremely confused Loki by his arms, dragging him out of there.

You two get together inside a tiny, hidden, locked room. Loki restlessly demands information of the angel who just appeared to ruin your party. 

“Fuck it, I shouldn't have allowed myself to drink so much.” You put your hands on your head, feeling the stinging sensation.

“It was fun while it lasted, you have to admit.” 

“You just liked seeing me lose control.” You bring up, still not looking at him.

“You always have control of everything.” He points out.

“Do I?” You smirk knowingly, licking your lips at his attitude. He looked all disheveled and your sudden unquietness within yourself made you want to explode. “Damn it, just take your fucking clothes off.”

“Excuse me?” He blinks and gapes a bit, looking stupid, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. He takes off his shoes, and his hands jump to unfasten his shirt but he just hesitates until you say it again.

“You heard me, take them off.” You say and push his chest until his back lays against the soft, foreign bed. “Do you want me to do it for you?” You were out of patience and reaching to straddle his body beneath yours.

He gulps and proceeds to do as you say, fighting to take his shirt off his torso as quickly as possible, resisting the temptation to lift his hand and touch your skin after he's shirtless. He just keeps them there up beyond his reach.

Oh. 

He's keeping his hands to himself, up his head, presenting his body to you. You give a diabolic smile that shows your pointy teeth, as you're close to salivating at the sight of his muscular pecs exposing his heavy breathing and very very warm sweat speckling down his skin.

You lean forward closer to his face, locking eyes with him, just to close your fingers around each of his wrists. Keeping it there lifted now with full control, just like he wanted, his pupils are dark and his eyes so pleasing you're starting to think you're drunk on something else. 

He groans, closing his eyes in response from the pleasure of you squeezing his skin tight as you suffocate his senses with your body practically glued to his.

“Fuck.” It's all you can muster, you never could have guessed drunk-you would be so lacking for words. Maybe it's just his intoxicating aroma deafening your senses.

“Demoness,” he puts himself through a test and tries to let go of your hands. He succeeds and gives you a very bright malicious smile. “You temptress,” His eyes sparkle with malice as he hungrily watches your body burn under his fingertips. “My mistress bathed in sin.”

His hands snake down your skin and you allow it, for now. He's still smiling and still licking his lips at the sight of you on top of him. The moment stops for you as you notice his eyes sparkle a bit more as he admires.

Then he turns you around and pins you under his body, with all the pressure he can apply. And you try to squirm out but it's like his body is made of iron with how heavy he is on top of you, locking you beneath him. 

His hellish amusement is there and now you grunt out to the air.

“I allowed it,” you brag.

“Of course you did, you're just a horny stupid little thing, aren't you?” You get red from his words, but he doesn't relent, and he can sense you're starting to shake a little. “You'd let me do all the work.”

“You can't–”

“Can't what?” His hips grind against yours, both of you still clothed but craving, dying for the friction. “Can't what? You brought me here, wouldn't want to ruin the party for me, would you, little one? No…” He runs his mouth down the skin of your neck to your breasts, and his cold breath is making you shiver. “No, you have something to give me.” He almost orders. And you spread your leg a little wider in invitation, he pulls your dress up and his hands start kneading your ass.

Your teeth are gritted in response to his degrading words. But you just swallow your defenses, both of your dizzy drunken brains managing to make the situation much simpler as you just allow him to take control.

He is visibly excited for this, preparing you with his touching, delighting on your sounds and huffs of pleasure, “Are you okay? Is this okay?” he frowns a bit as he remembers, waiting patiently as you can read the underlying question: do you truly want this? Are you sober?

Your heart palpitates faster, your gaze is dazzled with wonder, noticeable for a while, as you stare into his questioning but patient eyes. You're okay, you know you are, but you're more than pleased to know he's a man of morals even when you can feel how horny he is, pulsing against the skin of your thighs.

Also, it's not very often that you see gods being morally correct. Or not just caring about themselves, if there's one thing you've been impressed with since the beginning, it's about how Loki, somehow, always cares for you, even when he pretends he doesn't.

“I'm ok, it's ok.” You consent, nodding a little, and wait a moment in silence. “Are you ok?”

He seems lost while gazing hungrily at your body, his mouth open as he unconsciously unleashes his breathing. Grasping you a bit too hard around your hips, he looks into your eyes again. “Yes, yes I am.”

It's the last thing you hear before he dives between your thighs, looking feral as he admires your glistening pussy, he silently wonders if he's been bewitched, for he felt starved from your delicious cunt and it's only been an hour —if he still remembers properly. But damn it now, he doesn't care about anything else but you and your scent, poisoning his system.

He curses a Nordic profounity, “Fuck, fuck. Demoness, you're killing me now, I'm sure of it. You're poisoning me,” he states and you push him to eat you out, forcing his words to an end as you smile up to the ceiling so adoringly, feeling his skilled tongue pleasing you.

“I wouldn't kill you,” You breathe out shaking. Soon you wouldn't be able to even feel your legs as they're numbing from overstimulation, your body recalling the early hours of the party. You moan loudly as you jolt from the thought and from Loki's tongue hitting your sweet spot.

When he pulls out, there's your essence tainting his lips, you curse out to all the princes of Hell. They could be damned now, you'd let this god do anything to you, if kept looking at you like you carry the whole world, eating you out like you're the best thing his lips ever tasted.

Loki keeps your thighs well spread out for him, giving a kiss to your stomach, and your heart waves at the soft touch. That was so cute, to you. He keeps kissing and licking the area, giving small bites at times when noticed you got too ticklish, or squirmed more under his touch.

When his body went up his kisses came too, and you felt the head of his cock move up and down to drown in your juices, coming close to your clit just to tease and moving down, slowly again.

“L-Loki,” You wave, quivering under his ferocious gaze. He licked his lips as he watched you like you're his last meal. His hand lands on your lower back. ”Please,” you gulp dumbly as you watch him. “Just fuck me.”

“Ask nicely.” He teases more, his hand close to holding you down by your neck. You whimper as you feel the head of his cock entering you, he takes a deep breath to keep his ground as he awaits your begging. Almost unable to contain himself, his jaw clenched and hands twitching, hurting your skin but you don't mind.

You force yourself to swallow your pride. Rolling your eyes a bit too harshly before feeling him pulling out and entering more of his cock into your sensitive cunt, you're unused to the size and your walls are stretched with a tad discomfort. He chuckles.

“Do you feel pain, little slut? Who would've thought, a dirty demon like you.” He cruelly mentions your visible, slight discomfort. Mocking. 

You tilt your head to him, clenched jaw but pleading eyes still wanting to feel more of him despite the pain, the need to feel him deep inside you needing to be scratched.

“Please,” you keep going, jaw still clenched, you can pinpoint submissiveness to the alcohol, later. For now, you want him, all of him. “Please, please, please. Give me your cock.” Your hands clench around his shoulders as you bring him closer, he grants you your wish.

Your knees have given out and you feel helpless for the first time in so long, your whole body was pinned against him as he speared into you with such a furious intensity, getting so deep you gasped in utter surprise. His hands around your neck and a whispered sign down your earlobe to “Keep begging me,” and you're at a loss, babbling the sound of his name and the word 'please'.

He reaches around to touch your clit, matching his unforgiving pace, picking up his speed as he groans feeling you clench around him so deliciously. Small yelps left your throat with each of his harsh thrusts, you're a mess as your back arches closer to his chest.

His hand moves to hold your back carefully as he keeps heavily grunting onto your ear, his breathing deep and low voice demanding of your pleasure. He harshly grasps your skin with his nails, you scratch his back together from all the pressure hitting your sensitive cunt.

As he massages your clit, it makes you jolt under his touch with each stroke. His thrusts becoming more and more animalistic, brutal, he rams into you, your whole body is shaking roughly with his brutish pounding.

You can barely hear your own moaning as Loki fills all of your senses, he is everything you touch and his growls and grunts are all you hear. You two fill the quiet room with the sound of sex and moaning.

“Look at you,” he gloats. “You were so insistent upon not looking inferior, now you tremble beneath me.” He gives a slow, harsh thrust, to emphasize his point, your eyes roll and your mouth opens, almost drooling. “Pray to me.” 

His words come out rough and too low timbre. your whole body shivers and your core tightens, burning from his words alone, he gets so fast-paced with his pounding you can't even catch a breath.

“W-w-wh-what?” You ask among his savage rhythm. Your mouth is in the shape of an 'O' as he pulls out only to slip even further inside you, if that's possible.

“You heard me,” He messily moves his hand from your back to pull your hair. It makes you remember the other time, when he refused to sleep with you. You give him a shameless, taunting smile. 

He yanks your hair locking eyes with you, a deep moan escapes your lips in response. “Pray to me. Pray, and this God might save your devious soul. I'm the only God you have to think of.”

Little does he know, —although he should — but you don't have a soul to be saved. It's not like you're going to correct him now. 

Your head moves back and forth mixing with his body smashing against your flesh, you don't fear the dizziness that'll install later, his fucking making you completely mindless.

You gulp and sob out, your brain struggling to remember how to speak through the fogginess of pleasure.

“In-In- nomine Patris, et- Filii, et Spiritus Sancti,” you start, broken Latin as you fight to remember what the prayers are—those that make your skin burn with their Grace— his punishing pounding getting worse and more frantic as your praying comes to life.

“T-t-tu es qu-qui jaces in-in-in Coelis, gratia plena,” your voice is trembling, fighting to keep the tone alive. You sob your tears from the sensitivity blinding your sight through the sinful act. The blasphemy drowning you, filling the pits of your stomach. “i-in omnibus nobis omnia praesens, omnium salvator.” You spit out the end, locking eyes with him.

“Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra–” You trip over your words as he starts sucking and biting your neck.

He furiously rubs his hand against your clit. His voice strained to say the next words, his breaking point coming present as he pronounces all his Asgardian splendor.

“C-come, come now. Kom for meg, min lille djevel.” You scream and spasm around him, clutching all you can grab of him, wanting to feel as much as possible. You see stars as you cum around him, shaking, the squelching sound so sinful reaching your ears.

Loki growls near your jawline, his thrusts getting slack as he's closer to completion. He shudders, you feel his cock pulsing inside of you, filling you full with his warm cum.

Loki's breaths are labored as his thrusting slows down, riding his orgasm. When he pulls out, there's the trace of semen tainting your skin and trickling down your thighs.

You're panting heavily as he pulls you closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours, he leans forward to kiss you. You didn't even get to catch a breath as he changes your position and deepens the kiss.

You felt your body aching from the sex, your head was spinning from the damned alcohol you had last night. As much as it hurts to feel some pins and needles, you still had the new — horrifying—experience to feel human.

You don't know how you feel about that. 

Lifting yourself as quickly as possible to hurry to the bathroom, as you feel nauseated, you suddenly remember your conditions and physically recoil from agony and disgust of yourself.

Throwing up? You've allowed yourself to throw up? Especially in front of your 'brother'? At a party filled with humans?

Outrageous, gross. You want to kill your human form and remove the skin to stop from feeling so dirty and humane. But all you can express outloud is a sincere grunt of annoyance, grabbing the skin of your stomach.

It takes some time, you arrive at the bathroom and contain your vomiting, using your magic to stop the sickness and the lightheadedness, throwing up now would make you simply refuse to exist. 

It takes time for you to notice Loki's not in the room.

You take a look at the place, analyzing every detail you didn't notice before. And hurry to get out of there and find Loki.

You end up bumping into him as you walk out of that strange room, he looks you up and down, his mind rushes through the thoughts of your well-being, then he seems to put himself together. Clearing his throat.

His mind rushed through a series of nightmares he had last night, but they came to you as a bunch of blurred images. 

The last time he had nightmares, he thought it was your fault, but after spending the night feeding off your delectable supernatural body he wondered how he could have such torturous, painful nightmares. Especially after such a long time since he had the company of anyone in his sleep.

It hit him like a plague, and ruined his mood, apparently that would never leave him.

“Morning.” Insouciant, why would that be?

“Good morning!” You exclaim, merry to see him. He looks confused. “Where were you going? I didn't see you. I'm pretty sure you still slept in the same bed as me last night.”

“That's none of your business.” Once again, you're facing the mean kitty. You sighed.

“You were much easier to deal with last night. You were very touchy, if I can say.” You remember him and all the clear touching you shared at the party and at the end of it.

“Look, just because I fucked you doesn't mean I feel anything for you, so you should stop looking for me.” He looked very serious as he said this, you suddenly feel so much of a feeling you've never felt before. Like cold water has just been poured down your good mood. A foreign feeling pounding into your chest.

Shame.

And he continues.

“It was a wonderful fuck, and I'd love to do it again, even though you're insufferable and… surprisingly weak for a being such as a demon, it makes me a bit disappointed, I expected more a bit more.” He tilts his head arrogantly as he dares to put you down.

You weren't expecting to feel such a weird pang in your heart from his words, it's not sadness, but anger instead. Your face fell and you closed your fist around your chest. 

“I've only never left because you never truly wanted me to go away,” you give him a fake smile, your eyes burning, denying the tears. “You may say whatever you want, but you know you've always been alone and the one that's never picked. The last option, the second, unwanted child, I know. Always the shadow of another, you delight yourself upon the attention I give you.” You close your mouth but look very sour, wanting to hurt him.

“I could say the same of you,” He says through gritted teeth and clenched jaw. Pointing towards you in spite. “Your 'brother' made you throw up last night, who are you to say you're not also unwanted? Is that the main reason you seek attention from me? Because you crave it? Or is it because you can't let me go? You've said it yourself, demon, your attraction to my powers, to my magic, to me. It doesn't make you want to go away, so what do you have to say? Your infatuation makes you weak and predictable. I've said this from the start, you're the one that's been too fucked dumb until you forgot this fact.” He spits it all out, looking down at you, his eyes looking so sharp like knives.

“You know nothing about me.” You say coldly, breaking your charismatic endeavor.

“You've shown me your cards a long time ago, little demon. I know how you work,” He's too proud, you burn with rage. “I could use your body like my personal sex toy and you wouldn't even deny me, would you? Having my personal demon slave to break until you cry, that's how emotional you are, you'd probably just break down to pieces. Are you having fun with the humans? Are they making you as pathetic as they are? Do you want to save the world with them, do you think any sensible human on this planet would consider you a hero?” His voice trembles as he says the last sentence. 

The next noise that the room echoes is a sudden snap, Loki's face red, burning from the mark of your violence. You slapped him. 

Your gaze is distant as you watch his surprised eyes burning with agitation from having startled you. You're suddenly filled with anger to a point you start hitting his chest.

He can prevent all the attacks, and he doesn't take it seriously, you'd probably scare a mortal but Loki's way too egotistical now, all your early compliments of his powers feeding into his image of being superior, mistakenly thinking he's superior to you.

And over all of this, he's convinced he hates you. He can feel the scratches stinging and marking their presence on his pale arms as you tried to attack with your bare hands.

He loses composure and falls with you on top of him, your hands squeeze his arms harshly, craving your nail into his skin, purposefully strong enough and wanting to make it bleed. It pleased you. 

He leaves a hiss as he locks your hands again, but he can still feel the scratching and gripping and hitting throughout other parts of his body.

“How are you doing this?!” He exclaims feeling the punches still hit him as he holds down your fists.

It's comparable to a ghostly touch, it's aggressive, freezing and scorching at the same time, you were all like the demon you're supposed to be. Exposing the anger and the punishment against his skin being the victim.

“You're only scared because you know I hold the truth.” He says.

“You can't offend me, Laufeyson. I only give you what you deserve,” You spit on him, and he backs off, leaving your hands free as you get angrier on top. “You can't, I know every one of your sins, I know your fears.”

“You don't know what I am,” he said sadly, trying to keep a stable look. “You don't.”

“I know you're the spoiled child here, not me.” You say, “You act like you're so tortured but you've had everything in life and you're nothing but a spoiled little prince that deserves nothing but cruelty, so you'll know how others feel.” You look into his eyes as you're wishing to hurt him. “Maybe I should punish you myself,” you sound a bit too serious, as if another play-pretend is coming to an end, a bit too out of your mind. “What do you think? Should I? Should I make your life a living hell? Should I make you pay for the souls you've killed? I promise it's more than some hundred people the Avenger's data claim to be. Come on, Loki!” You scream at his face, still straddling him, his hands shaking now but unmoving to push you off.

“Come on, Loki!” You continue, “Think of the parents, their children, growing up alone after you killed them, the families ruined. Should I make you suffer for them all?”

He looks sad now, you could see the tears silently showing on the corners of his eyes. You couldn't stop, you don't feel guilt, it doesn't come with your nature. 

“You wouldn't dare. Even if I deserve it, you wouldn't punish me.” He coldly says, trying to snap against you, he's surprised he can't do it this time.

You close your mouth and give him a furious look, you know you shouldn't speak now, you don't want him to know too much about you. You can't, so you lie.

“You're right,” you lie, too saccharine, coming too easily, you just have to look a bit defeated. He doesn't look like he believes you, ever so doubtful. “You're right, I said I wouldn't. I can't punish you.” 

He doesn't want to think about your trustworthiness, nor about his arguments. He closes the distance between the two of you, right out of the foreign room, out there in the hallway. 

In contrast to the night before, now his touch only shows his anger and shame instead of any passion.

He doesn't want you to feel anything other than his hatred and fury, he's angry, all too angry at your words. At your daring to look innocent and bubbly, at your fake pretend act, at your secrets, at your constant clinginess, at your touches. At you. He's angry at you, he's quickly convinced he hates you and that you're messing with his mind to make you seem like a good person.

He growls against the inside of your mouth as he seeks forward your open shirt, grabbing the skin with the equal pressure of wishing to make it bleed too, he cupped the back of your head and brought you close as he brutally bites your lower lip. 

“Ow, you fuck–” You complain, feeling it bleed, lifting your hand instinctively to touch the wound, he grabs your hand and keeps it down in place. Using his seidr to remove his pants and all of your clothes, the top of his asgardian leather vest prodding your bare stomach, you look around the hallway, scared someone will pass by. “The cameras. Someone might–”

“I'm tired of your feigned innocence.” He angrily silences you, he puts his hand to cover your mouth and your mumbles stuffle around his palms. “Let them see. Let them watch.” He rolls his hips roughly to your pelvic arch, pumping his cock to prepare and grunting out to the Heavens as he slides it into your already dripping hole. 

You didn't want to confess how much the possibility of any strangers watching enticed you. “Let them see who brings the demon to her knees.” You bite his hand harshly and he hisses, grabbing your chin violently and squeezing, feeling your dental arch under the skin of your face. Your lips plump bright from his harsh kissing.

“Fuck, no–” You squeak out, not meaning it, but he still hesitates, until you glance at him and nod again, more frenetically, trying to get him to move as you babble meaningless denials. He keeps his thrusting, going harder and harder, making you grip his hips to steady. Afraid someone will hear the noise of your flesh hitting together ferociously. “Oh, OH!” You scream out.

“I want to devour you, you cruel thing.” He tightens his grip on your chin while pistoning your poor cunt. “I want to eat you up, you're a little bug compared to me. Tiny little useless little bitch.” He keeps his punishing pace. “This is the punishment you'll receive, tell me, do you like it? Am I being fair? It's an honorable punishment, being my little cumslut, I'll make you my little cum dumpster,” his eyes sparkled as he said the term to refer to you. “I'll fill you up and you won't be able to move, feeling me right here with your every step, feeling the stickiness that'll mark you as mine, so you'll forget your bratty behavior.” He puts his hand to rest on your womb, and you moan loudly, locking eyes with the tiny, almost unnoticeable, camera. Not knowing if it's on or not, either way, you're likely giving a whole performance.

“Ah! Oh, no,” you feel your eyes sting with tears as you're pinned down, against the cold floor. Your legs give out whilst they also tremble with every hit of his skin against yours. 

He pulls out quickly and turns you around, now your mouth is fighting to stay far from the ground. He yanks your hair as he pushes your entire face towards the floor, arching your lower back, presenting yourself to him. He kicks your legs open to hurriedly shove his throbbing, aching cock, inside of you again.

The manhandling got you shaking for him, his thrusting forceful as your face dizzily scratched in contact with the harsh freezing floor of the hallway. He's pounding into you as if to convince himself of his lack of care for you. 

Reaching his fingers around you to eagerly touch your clit, wishing for your constricting walls to suffocate his cock, to unknowingly pull him in deeper so he could flood your insides with his seed.

He wanted to make the devil tremble beneath him every single time, to feel your knees weak for him, he feared he was addicted. Your body invites him with such warmth, to paint your walls white with his cum.

When he feels you jolting harshly, he growls and his hips snap strongly to guide you through your orgasm, not relenting in his pace. You felt yourself getting too overstimulated as you moaned very soft whines and pushed your hands weakly against his chest. 

He kept a vicious pace until his thrusting began getting uneven as he grunts out loudly, pushing your skin as he fills your abused cunt with loads of his cum.

Both of you lay out of breath on the floor, trying to recover a balanced breathing pattern, his marvelous hand still grasping your skin as strong as he could, instinctively.

Once you both recover, he moves his fingers to magically redress himself. Keeping you dumbly watching him, even as he lifts off of your body, he doesn't make a move to dress you.

“You're such a dick.” You spit out the words, looking around to check where your clothes are, before remembering he magicked them off.

“I could help you, of course,” He pretends to think of something. “But I'll only do so, if you tell me what's the deal with the angel.” He brings the topic out of the blue.

“I don't need your help!” You exclaim angrily, getting up naked. “You don't scare me, Loki.” You give him a stern look.

“I should. You should be scared of me. And you don't look half as terrifying as you think you do, while you're naked.”

You ignore the teasing and focus on the way he's trying to intimidate you. “You're just a god. I've seen millions of them.” 

“Which only fuels my curiosity, can I even know how old you are?”

You grunt out and physically hesitate, you despise going anywhere near personal talk. You make new clothes magically reappear.

“I could get you naked in a snap of my fingers if you don't answer me.” He smirks, glancing down at your body.

“I think you forget I'm more powerful than you.” You state still denying him attention.

“I should probably wait for a team meeting, so I could make everyone see how much of a beauty you are.” 

“They probably already know.” You glance at the camera, that's not speckling any light to sign its functioning. “Or maybe not, either way, I could get you naked in a second too.” You dared.

“Oh, I hope you do.” He grabs your waist and presses both of his hands down your stomach.

“In the middle of the hallway?!” Stark insults, accompanied by a frantic Steve by his side.

“We should create a rule of no sex around the tower.”

“Everybody would lose within a week, dumbass, only you wouldn't.” Stark pats his chest, you get yourself out of Loki's grip. “We all saw what you two did last night on the table, your luck is that a lot of people do the same in these parties. Just don't do it very…often.” He refuses to look at you two.

You don't answer him and just walk away, reaching another huge area. Most of the spaces resemble the living room for resting, that's close to the meeting room. It's not really your fault for not knowing the places or their purposes yet.

“Don't you want to go down to the training room?” Steve asks you, walking in with you. “It'll be useful, it's what we usually do around these hours. And you'll probably need to do it one time or another.”

“I'll think about it–” You end up bumping someone as you were staring at Rogers. 

“Where are your manners?” Inquiries the being, the great Symbol of Heaven. “Honestly, sister, you've been falling off your feet a lot since the party.”

“Don't call me that.” 

“Do you have something against him?” Stark asks, a bit rhetorically, as he can already sense the answer.

Loki arrogantly tilts his head now that he knows it'll be difficult for you to walk away.

“Of course I have, I don't want to be near him.” You say.

“You don't have to.” The Angel responds.

“Have you people just adopted him now?” Loki asks the two headmasters of the group, and they both look at each other. 

“Firstly, we don't "adopt"–” Stark got interrupted mid his sentence, as the angel presented himself.

“I am å̵̫̭̹̳̟̮͉͙̲̉͜͜ͅá̶̹̦̈̎͊̍͒̇̕̚͝͝ą̷̱̻̞͉̾̂͊̈́a̸̲̜͙̣̦̙͚̞̹̻̠̓̄̈́̈́a̴̤͈̻̾͊͌̄a̶̧͇̠̜̼̻̹̱͔̳̯̘̔̀͊̈́̆̉̈̋͒̋a̶̮̞͉͖̝̿͜ṇ̷̛̮̗̮̪̫̱̻̳͚̝͍̅́̓͆̄̊̏̿̄̐̾̚͜͝͝͝ģ̵̧̡̛̗̘͓̱̫̦͉̰̯̰̗͍͇̥̳̝̲̭̳͖͊͒̄̅̎́̃̒̐̓̌̚̕͝͠͠ę̵̨̢̧͇͉̮̲͇̠̠̘̝̬̜̣͈̗͉͓͎̣̻̓̅̈́̇͌̌̀̽̀̀͊̆̅̒̃̚͘̕͘͝͝ĺ̷̟̪̬̙͈̉̈̋̋́͆͐̐̑̐̐̃͊̄̚̕͝ Ediel.” His words give a glimpse in space, and time, and everyone questions their sanity for a second, they could swear they saw something. Ediel is as bright as the sun when he grins at his sister.

“Did you guys see that?” Asks Thor as he walks through the door.

“See what?” You question, not knowing what he's talking about.

“I-I…the thing̛̱͙̟̪̣̠̓̒͑̽–” Thor looks around, then something stops while they're all still looking at the angel.

Thor enters the room again and repeats the same question. 

“Did you guys see that?” The god asks.

“See what?” You question him.

“I don't remember…” Thor looks down, confused, a finger on his chin as he wonders. They all look at each other now and Tony points at you.

“Just don't kill each other while you're here, he may be good for us, it's always safe to be in the presence of an angel.”

“I actually feel much safer indeed.” Steve expresses and you roll your eyes. Loki knew you had nowhere to hide now.

“Why do you hate him?” Loki asks you.

“Don't you also hate your brother? I have my reasons.” You snap and try to run away once more, until Tony gets ahold of your arm. 

“Calm down now hocus pocus, what is it that you have to say? We have the right to know, what if it's something dangerous?”

“Why is everyone so stuck in this? I have the right to not say anything if I don't want to.”

“I don't see what's wrong either,” Ediel says, defending you. “My sister should feel free to walk away just as she wants to.”

“He seems nice. Just a bit off-putting.” Thor brings up watching the other blond.

“Now you know what you're like.” Loki bickers with Thor. And they share a look close to a childlike war.

“Ediel is a fallen angel,” You tell the group with a quiet tone, wanting nothing more than to go away. “Anything—anyone, that falls out of Heaven must be an evil entity, a fraud, a sinner–”

“If that were true, that'd appeal to you,” Ediel says. “This is everything demons admire. If the accusations were truthful, you'd have no reason to hate me.” The avengers could sense how little you felt close to the golden angel.

“They don't know you. They don't know us. Stay out of my way.” You point to your brother and walk out.

“Do you want to explain the whole 'sister' thing?” Loki casually brings up the topic as Ediel keeps a watch on your way out. “She doesn't seem to cooperate, so who knows, you might actually be useful.” He says to the angel.

Ediel feels bashful before speaking, “It's actually fairly simple,” he says your name and proceeds to talk about you. “She is related to Satan himself, raised by Him, and unfortunately so am I, now.” He says feeling his heart ache with shame.

“However that's not a reason for any of you to hate me, or mistrust me,” he quickly explains as their eyes wander around. “I stay in a different position, I'm never in Hell and I've never been close to it, I stay on the surface nearby Earth. I'm more of an actual fallen angel, I'm a guardian, a protector. A savior.”

Loki rolls his eyes in annoyance, “That's what your sister claimed too, when I first met her. I've heard enough.” He tells them and moves somewhere else too, Thor follows him with a sheepish expression.

“I am a being created by God,” Ediel says to the others. “He loves me, as he does to you all, but unfortunately I'm too close to Satan here. Too close, unfortunately, to be mistaken with a demon. I'm just grateful to know my truth, and I'll keep my guard upon us, against the evil that is the demon that inhabits here.”

Everyone looks convinced that this angel won't go away. But Tony needed to state some things.

“Right, cherub, we don't need help. Demoness is not a terrifying or evil entity, she's been cooperating, and at the exact moment she decides to misbehave, the authorities–” Tony gives a dramatic pause to make sure his point comes across. “will deal with her. Earth authorities, the law. We're not afraid of your evil little friend. You can stay calm.”

“It's still an obligation that I have to stay present and keep a watch.” 

“That makes me quite uncomfortable,” Steve says. “What do you mean by keeping a watch?”

“Nothing frightful, human, I promise you. I'll stay here to ensure everyone's safety, and I'll make sure to be a good spirit to all, I'm the bringer of God's words and great spirit.” He gives everyone a bright smile again.

Translations: In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti = In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Tu es qui jaces in Coelis, gratia plena =Thou who art lies in Heaven, full of Grace.

In omnibus nobis omnia praesens, omnium salvator = He is present to all of us, the savior of all.

Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in Terra = Thy kingdom come. Thy wish will be done, as it is in Heaven and on Earth.

Kom for meg, min lille djevel = Come for me, my little devil.

★

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101

How can your writing always be so incredible?? Honestly, everything you write is amazing.

The ending is so sweet, the way they say they love each other so easily now 💗💗

I loved this story and all the details, and obviously the fucks (the way you know how to write something that can pull on my heartstrings, but also make our erotic dreams come true, I loved their anger, I loved the angry fucks)

The “Is it really so hard to believe? That I love you?" And the way he nodded, broke my heart, love that he'll learn how to be loved now.

Also the "my love"s they shared too, will stick with me, they made me so happy. Can't wait to read the epilogue!

Final Bids: Love Wins [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: (20) A loved-up Loki has a surprise or two for you in his chambers. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Hostile Fluff. Language. Biker! Loki 'fit cameo. (w/c 3.8k)

You and Loki hadn't stop kissing from the moment the elevator closed to the moment it slid open on the sixty-fifth floor. You had run out the main doors of the event suite with the stares of bemused looking spectators following you, the crowd parting. There was no looking back as Loki’s fingers grasped your own, knitted tightly.

He was still bare-chested, the button of his trousers still undone. Hair was wild, cheeks hot, smiles wide as cat-calls and ringing shouts of ‘finally’ followed far beyond the lavish foyer.

Your searching hands clawed at his naked back as he pressed you against the glass wall of the lift. Floor disappeared below, winding higher as you moaned into his open mouth.

“Come on…” he muttered, eyes flashing with mischief before yanking you out the open elevator doors and around the corner towards his rooms. His sanctuary. He strode ahead, making you teeter on your heels as you tried in vain to keep up. With an impatient growl, he spun - lifting you effortlessly around his hips. You gasped, a giggle escaping as his features retained their set determination. “You were taking too long. As usual. ” he growled, taking several more strides before slamming your back against his front door.

Loki’s hand at your back blanketed the impact as his lips ravenously enveloped your own. The god’s tongue swept inside your mouth, a mewl sneaking from your throat as you turned to messy putty beneath his possessive wiles. Somewhere, there was a low beep. The door fell open. Loki stumbled inside, holding you steady with one strong arm. His tongue never left your mouth as you groaned against him, his furiously hard cock pressing eagerly against your inner thigh. Reluctantly, he lowered you the floor, spinning you gently to face the room beyond the entryway. You gaped, taking in the lavish dark furnishings you had only imagined as you touched yourself beneath your bedsheets in the dead of night. Thick velvet curtains hung closed against the windows; green, of course. The scent of rich mahogany filled the air, shy curls of smoke wafting from dozens of candles set on the bookshelves which lined the living room. A fireplace that you were entirely sure wasn't to code suddenly roared to life in the corner. To your right, you could just see a sliver of a majestic bed-frame through the crack of a door. Looking back to the room at hand, you suddenly realised you had company. Of sorts. Nine mannequins were placed in a semi-circle at the far corner of the room, giving them the look of some sort of macabre council. Loki’s warm breath fanned your ear as he stooped to speak, noting your interest. “Do they bring back fond memories, darling?” he purred, making you shiver. The wetsuit, the biker ensemble, the kilt, the fencing pants, the captain’s uniform, the slutty caftan, the Tudor king, the wolf fur, the holy vestments – they were all here. “I thought you would appreciate a reminder of our journey together on this auspicious occasion.” he whispered slowly, measuring your reaction. You giggled, throwing a glance over your shoulder before moving towards them to investigate. “What would you have done with these if I’d not...you know, done what I did downstairs?” “Burn them, obviously.” “Obviously.” you replied dryly, pinching the edges of the wetsuit and running your fingers down thoughtfully. It feels like so long ago. “Although I was quietly confident that my masterplan would yield fruit.” he smirked, perching elegantly on the armrest of hi sofa. “Master-plan...” you scoffed derisively, gravitas quashed by the unshakeable grin stretched across your face. “Keep telling yourself that, Laufeyson.” Minutes passed as you inspected each piece while Loki watched in silence, a gentle smile on his lips.

“I thought I would allow you a choice of attire for us to consummate our truce.” he said, slowly rising and circling behind as you paused in front of the ravaged kilt hanging on its holder. "Truce? How romantic." you murmured sarcastically, hearing the tap of his dress shoes against the mahogany floor. The mannequins were an exact replica of Loki’s frame, you realised, running your hand down the rough woollen sash. You shivered, remembered the sight of his war-stained features surfacing between your spread thighs on the wet battlements. Loki’s hips pressed against your ass, his hard stomach moulding to the shape of your spine as he loomed behind you. “Can’t you see which one I’d choose, the whole mindreading-whatever-it-is?” you said absent-mindedly, snapping a long strap of the fencing pants for effect. Loki chuckled. “Oh, that." Loki drawled. "With some difficulty, I fashioned an enchantment so that I cannot see too deeply. I have cut myself off, as it were. It is only an aura of your mood that I have access to – and nothing to be done about that. Unless your love for me wanes, of course.” You turned, unable to disguise your shock. “What?! Since when?” Loki's features twisted in an apologetic grimace. “At the faire...I began to delve too deeply. I knew that you did not approve, I felt...guilty." He paused, surprised at his own revelation. "Was I wrong?” he added, brows slanted. “No I just…” you started sheepishly, biting your lip. Your eyes widened. “But some of the things you said in Rome, the little comments, the-” “About you wanting me, you mean?” Loki scoffed gently. He shook his head. “Any fool could see that, darling. My brother, for one.” You turned away, closing you eyes as you tried to process how unbearably in love with him you were. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest. He really is full of surprises. “You could have told me.” you said with a feigned air of annoyance, fingering the intricate embroidery of the sheer caftan. “And lose my advantage in our little tirades? I think not, Agent.” Loki purred, eyes burning with mischief. “Besides, I do not need magical abilities to read you.” You could feel his soundless approach, the warmth of his bare chest inches from your back. “Now choose, please.” he whispered, a wandering hand slipping around your waist. Your palm slid up his cheekbone from behind, pressing him against the crook of your neck. “I don’t need a costume, Loki” you whispered, turning. “I just need you.” The god chuckled into your hair. “Are you sure they didn’t help pave the way to your heart? I thought it would be...romantic.” You rolled your eyes. “Well they didn’t hurt.” You ran your eyes down the white captain’s uniform pressed neatly against its mannequin. “But really…” you said, sliding your palm over Loki’s shoulders. “I just want you, Loki. All of you.” The god’s brow furrowed, a bob in his throat as his mind fought to catch up. “I see.” he managed to say, catching on his tongue. There was a pause, as Loki’s stare searched yours. “Is it really so hard to believe?” you said, cupping his jaw. “That I love you?” Loki nodded once, his gaze lowered, lashes spread in a perfect fan against his skin.

“Why?” you whispered, knowing the answer. But it seemed important that he say it. He swallowed.

“You must understand I have never been most people’s favourite person. In this realm or any other. ” he said bitterly, avoiding your eyes as he twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Anyone’s favourite person, in truth. To be loved. It is rather a strange concept to me.” His eyeline staggered upwards, reluctantly meeting your gaze. “But I am trying.” “I know. I’m sorry about all the red stuff – the dress was an accident but the bra and the g-string I didn’t know-” Loki’s finger pressed to your lips. “Do not apologise.” he murmured. “Just promise me that you shall not lie with him when you tire of me.” You couldn’t help the gasp of laughter that erupted against his finger. “Tire of you?” you choked. “I don’t think that’s likely.” Loki raised an eyebrow, making your features straighten. “But I promise, I will not…” you wrinkled your nose, “...lie with Thor.” The god nodded regally, accepting your pledge. The tips of his cheekbones had flushed palest pink. “I love you.” you said softly, capturing his fingers as they brushed your collarbone. “I love you.” he replied with a shy smile. His voice was rich and warm, the tenor sinking into your soul like salve. “But it is more than that…” he added mysteriously, his tone deepening. You felt the familiar zing of arousal between your thighs, the eroticism of his power building in earnest. “I have burned for you, every cell of my being yearning uncontrollably since the moment you first cut me with that sharp tongue.” he murmured, sweeping hair from your neck. “It is a need, an obsession. And the obsession of a god is not easily swayed. I hope you are prepared for that.” His parted lips danced across your shoulder, as your hands slid beneath his armpits and between the muscled blades. “I could not bear to think that you would never be mine-” he growled, “not after all the times before, and never like this...never as-” “-Real.” you gasped, as he placed a gentle bite on the curve of your neck, a deep moan filling the space. “Real.” he echoed quietly, before placing a soothing kiss on the mark he had left. “I could not bear it.” His eyes met with yours, glassy with emotion. “I thought...that the only way to harvest the passion I desperately craved from you was-” “-by being an asshole?” you postured, raising your brows. Loki smiled sheepishly. “You gave as good as you got, darling.” he murmured, his hand beginning to toy with the zip of your dress. “Better, some might say.” you gasped, feeling the tug of your seams coming loose. “In your dreams, Agent.” Loki whispered, as your dress pooled around your ankles. “And besides…” he quipped, walking you backwards through the living room towards the king bed next door. “One cannot accuse us of being predictable.” “Perish the thought.” you said, as the back of your knees hit the firm mattress. Loki lowered his chin to his chest, the fire in his eyes that burned right before he fucked you smouldering with new intensity. “My love…” he hummed, possessively sliding his hands over your ass and squeezing. “My love.” you responded with a gasping groan, the curve of your lips cresting each vowel like a breaking wave. “Choose one.” he growled, a ragged moan vibrating in his chest as he slipped his hand inside your panties. “I must insist. For old times sake.”

Your eyes flickered to the row of mannequins just visible outside the door. “The b-biker…” you stammered, as Loki’s digits began to play lazily against your soaking slit. “Mmm” he hummed, knowingly. “I’m sure the garments for that particular ensemble isn’t the only thing you desire from it, my love?” My love. You would never tire of those words from his lips. You could feel heat rising in your cheeks as Loki’s suit trousers began to turn to scuffed black denim beneath your touch. The fingers digging into his back suddenly had a thin layer of fabric between his flesh and yours; the scent of old oil wafting from the cotton. Cool, heavy metal swung against your chest as he shoved you playfully back onto the bed, watching as a familiar vintage leather jacket unfurled over his torso. The god chuckled, seeing your legs widen as you drew your feet onto the mattress; sinking into the thick crispness of his duvet. He ran a hand through his hair, a trail of seidr rendering it wild. Your breath skipped as you saw the outline of the deep scar through his eyebrow form, ink flourishing on both sets of his knuckles. C.H.A.O.S. You shuddered, ass clenching. The crossed daggers flourished in all their glory over his heart, the edges faded as old tattoos do. Loki’s fingers toyed teasingly with the buckle of the studded belt, hanging sluttishly around his hips. “Do you want me to be a bad boy, Agent?” he growled, untamed hair falling in waves against his sharp cheekbones. “You’re always a bad boy.” you purred, making Loki wink before he cleared his throat. “Well, I better not disappoint then.” he postured, sinking into character as he lowered himself on top of you. The leather creaked against his biceps as he braced, the stretch making you clench as he descended on your mouth in a mess of teeth and tongue. You thrust upwards, the thin fabric of your wet gusset colliding with his belt buckle. Loki chuckled, scooping you upwards. He knelt on the bed, ass resting on his worn combat boots; shifting so only one of his denim-clad thighs sat between your spread legs. “Use me.” he rumbled, lowering his chin as he began to rock your hips back and forth. Friction made delicate skin sizzle as he set your pussy alight, every whimper met with enthusiastic sighs of pleasure and praise. “That’s it, darling…” he groaned as you grasped at his hard cock beneath the tight denim. Searching.

He was a mess of adulation, words unsaid for too long spilling from his lips with every flame of climax blossoming in your belly. “I’m for your pleasure, now.” he gasped, gyrating his hips as you rocked against his thigh. “Always...take it. Take i-it, my love. It’s y-yours. I’m..f-fuck, I’m yours.” Your nails dug into the leather covering his shoulders, marking the soft material as you came undone against him. “Loki...y-yes..uhhh” you moaned into his open mouth as he gazed up at you, rough ebony curls thrown back. One of your hands fell to his chest, catching on the loop of the pendant hanging against his heart. The slicing angle of Loki’s jaw was poised, lips parted. His eyes were wide, brow creased as you came with a grateful cry of his name. He continued to guide your hips back and forth while your grip tightened and then relaxed. You burrowed your face in the curve of his neck, noting the musk of Croatian alcohol and smoky bars that still clung there. “I do so love watching you cum…” he murmured shyly, as you began to pull wantonly at his belt buckle. “Well I love watching you cum” you said, pressing your lips together in a coy smile. “So I guess that works out, doesn’t it?” Loki’s hand ran through your hair, tugging your head back before he placed a messy suck to the pulse point. “Mine.” he growled breathily, as your fingers raced to undo his belt. “Leave it…” he muttered, making your hands fly to his leather jacket, forcing it roughly over his shoulders. It fell to the floor with a soft thud, the low thump of his combat boots hitting the floorboards making your whole body shiver. He shuffled backwards, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Are you ready, love?” he muttered seductively. You nodded, your feral desire barely contained as you bounced on your knees. Instinctively your fingers rubbed his violently hard cock through the rough denim, feeling for metal. The god hissed as your fingers caught against the tip. "Oh, it's there." Loki purred knowingly, whipping the belt from its holster and slowly rolling down the zip. You licked your lips, seeing the majesty of his pierced cock bob into view. Wordlessly you leant forwards, sucking the moist head of his manhood against your tongue with a calculated swirl. You tugged the silver barbell, flicking. Loki whimpered, steadying himself against the bedpost. “F-fuckk, darling…” he gasped quietly. “I shall n-never be prepared for that.”

The metal balls of his piecing were cool against the heat of your mouth, rolling them against your searching tongue as he groaned above you. A metallic taste rose against the warmth of his sweetness, the god's musk swirling intoxicatingly against the sharp tang of steel. Saliva leaked out the sides of the join, letting it coat his cock as you slid back and forth, sucking gently. Your lips tightened, the stroke of your hand against his thick, slippery shaft making his hips jolt. “Won’t l-last l-long…gods-” he rasped, gently winding the hand not steadying him into your hair.

Your own whoreish moans burned deep in your eardrums, mouth stuffed with his girth as you felt him begin to tremble. “D-don’t stop…” he panted, as you increased your pace. “Do you w-want me to cum in your...fuckkk-your mouth, p-precious one?” Loki stammered with difficulty, his breath catching as his hips began to tremble. You groaned enthusiastically, vibrations making his balls tighten. You heard a low crack of wood, Loki’s grip making the wooden bedpost split beneath it. A thundering moan ripped from above, hot cum flooding your tongue; dripping down your throat as you swallowed against the tip of his thick cock.

You released him with a messy pop, tugging once more at the piercing while gazing up at the dishevelled god with pure love. His bliss-drunk eyes lazily searched your face, hovering on the slick of his delicious cum coating your lips. He licked his own. “We can do the rest later, don’t worry.” you cooed, sitting up on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Loki chuckled, delicate skin creasing at the corners of his eyes. “Ah! About that-” he smouldered, before falling forwards and pinning you beneath him on the bed. “Gods have a very short refractory period. I’m delighted to inform you that we can fuck endlessly, if that is your desire.” There was a mischievous glint in his eye as he watched your jaw drop.

“You mean all this time we could have done it twice?” “More than twice, darling.” he jibed, feigning offence. “But to be frank, typically the mood had been ruined by one of your mid-coital insults by that point.” “My insults?!” you huffed, feeling his cock growing hard again against your thigh. Loki kissed you deeply, making your back arch as you felt the tingle of his seidr evaporate the rest of his biker clothes. He slid a finger through your folds, moaning appreciatively. “Wet, warm...perfect.” he muttered, curls grazing against your cheeks. You felt the metal balls of his piercing on the wide tip nudge against your entrance, the coolness tingling against your heat. Twin moans filled the air as he squeezed himself past the tight opening, Loki’s eyes rolling back before they fluttered closed. He bottomed out with a low pant of pleasure, a final thrust of his hips making the metal spheres tug against your deepest walls. The metal stud fastened to Loki’s pubic mound pulled gently against your clit, every slow roll of his hips making you rock into him. “Loki...f-fuck, I’d f-forgotten-oh god..oh g-god.” you panted, as his knees widened on the bed. The base of his flat stomach was pressed to your own, the thick veins running along his biceps bulging as he thrust into you in mind-altering waves. “Let yourself go, my love...there is no limit anymore. Not with us.” he praised, as your fingertips sank into the taut muscle of his ass. Effortlessly, Loki raised himself from his forearms; angling his hips so only the tip of his cock remained inside your wet cunt. “Loki...please” you begged, squirming beneath him. He smirked, beginning to make small thrusts against your g-spot. Your head slid back against the pillow, back arching. “Fuck-Loki...y-yess oh-god.” It caressed the swollen spot inside you, tingling with the urge to burst while the piercing rubbed on either side. It was heaven. “Cum for me, lov-ve.” he murmured, his voice breaking on the final syllable. Your hands fell back against the pillows, fingers curling around the antique brass railings of his bed-frame. Loki growled through shallow pants, his large palms cupping the joint of your hips as he guided you back and forth on his mighty cock. “C-come in me, Loki…” you whined, chin pointed to the ceiling as every muscle in your body screamed for release. "Own me, you fucking own me."

You were a writhing mess of pure sex, every swing of his hair; every harsh exhale of air from his throat a primal cacophony of lust and love. Both of your moans grew louder, the slap of his balls against your skin driving you over the edge as he unravelled. There was a sudden rush, a burning thrill of flooding climax as Loki’s shallow pants of praise blossomed to a thundering roar. The groan of his name from your throat was primal; threatening to shake his books from their shelves.

The god's breaths slowed, melting against you in a wet kiss before rolling to the side. His head hit the pillow with a muted thump. “Have I ever told you, that your the best fuck I’ve ever had?” he panted. “No, I don’t think you mentioned it.” you quipped, resting your chin on his heaving chest. “That would be too complimentary, you were too busy trying to make my life hell.” Loki rolled his eyes with a smirk, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “As I said on our first tryst, darling...indifference is the true insult.” He squeezed you tighter, before the amused smile faded. “There is one more past outfit I must show you.” he said tentatively, before frowning. “Return to you, actually.”

You sat up, propped on your elbows. “Oh?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow. “Although I have made one notable alteration.” he added, raising a hand and waving it gracefully in the air. A bright shimmer appeared at the foot of the bed, rolling downwards to reveal silken fabric fluttering suspended in the air. “Oh my god…” you whispered, eyes wide. The red dress that Loki had ripped with his hands and teeth from your body while he fucked you to oblivion in a jealous rage the night of the shareholder’s party swayed in front of you. Loki flicked his fingers, making it dance in the air.

It was immaculate, even by his standards of repair. Except now, it was a rich emerald green. “Loki-” you started, feeling a lump in your throat. Gently, his fingers tipped your chin to face him. “You have made me a better man, Agent.” he said slowly, enunciating every word. “Are you sure about that? I’m not sure Clint would agree. Or Amanda, actually.” you smirked, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “And enough with the ‘Agent’, you know how much it annoys me.” Loki laughed softly, sighing as he stretched his naked legs across the sheets. “Ah, so you heard about Barton.”

You let your eyes wander up his endless limbs, admiring the curve and dip of each perfectly carved muscle. “He put in a complaint with Tony.” you said, making Loki nodded sagely, lips pursed. The fact that Tony had, of course, told everyone, did not need to be stated to be understood. There was a pause. "And by the way, where is Thor getting a spare two million from to pay for you?" Loki smirked, rolling towards you with a fist propped innocently beneath his temple. "He's been putting off offers for a raunchy photoshoot with a well-known underwear brand for years, darling. I wouldn't worry." "Sorry, what was that you were saying about being a better man?" you goaded, holding back a laugh. “Well, our misplaced animosity may not have been the smoothest path to encouraging a reformation of my admittedly devilish character-” Loki said thoughtfully, nestling his nose against the tip of your cheekbone. “-but your love might.” You swung a leg over his hips, enjoying the exaggerated oof he released as you settled your core to his stomach. Your palm cupped his face, smoothing the silk of his jaw with your thumb. Loki tilted his head, raven curls a mess of tangles against the white pillowcase. “You’ll still always manage to irritate me, you know.” you said, as a smile played at Loki’s lips. "Just because I love you, doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you." In a flash, Loki had you on your back, giggling beneath him as the warm comfort of his solid frame pressed to yours. “Likewise, my love-' he sighed happily against your sex mussed hair. He placed a firm kiss on your temple, thumb pushing back strands of damp hair from your forehead. “-And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A/N - Thank you SO SO MUCH for coming with me on this journey. What started with a humble slutty wetsuit has blossomed into our beloved arsey, impossible Loki and stubborn Agent and I hope you're as happy with this ending as I am :) There will be a lil Epilogue (coming soon) Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @wheredafandomat @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @123forgottherest @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @goddessofwonderland @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman

Isn't Bite Also Touch?

(Loki X female demon!reader)

Chapter 8! — read it all here.

Summary: You and Loki have the first training practice together with the Avengers.

“Who the Hell is Ediel?” Clint asked. “I swear you are bringing people for free from now on.”

It's the first training practice that you're joining along with the Avengers.

“I agree with Hawkeye.” You say, a hand holding your foot up in your stretching. You're all preparing yourselves before starting the exercises. "The Avengers are just accepting free forms at this point.”

“I never even heard this name Ediel in the Bible,” Clint comments, shrugging his shoulders. “Not that I've really paid attention.”

“Maybe it's a made-up name,” you say as if you don't know the truth.

“I love how you're just gossiping about him as if you don't know his life,” Thor brings up with a smile. You give a smile back, sticking your tongue out. “It's kind of funny.”

“Listen, dude. I'm just saying,” There's a twinkle to your expression as you share. “Maybe…if you search for his pictures you'll see his real name.”

“You're the first person that I've ever seen call Thor a dude,” Nat says and you laugh.

“I literally couldn't care less.” Clint expresses with a tired grunt, referring to all the Ediel talk. He was wrapping some bandage wrap around his fist because it was covered by a large bruise.

Ediel was taking pictures somewhere else, it was understandable to say that the humans loved Ediel, since the party scandal. They adored him, it left you infuriated. 

He wasn't even that special, you could do so many more things than him, you were overly powerful, your powers crossed the limits throughout Hell and Earth. You were a child of Satan.

Yet, he was what they wanted to take pictures of. Bunch of fools. 

They're pathetic.

You cross your arms as you look at the team preparing their places, you angrily mutter out your thoughts of him. “Idiot, he's a fool.”

“Anyone from a thousand miles would be able to hear your angry mumbling.” Loki says, coming to your side, crouching down to where you stood sitting near the wall.

“I'm not mumbling, I don't do that.” You cock your head, barely turning to face him. “You know, you were nicer to me when you didn't know I was a demon,” you muse.

He looks at you, amused by your sudden statement.

“When I first saw you you seemed like the most powerful creature my eyes had ever seen,” you blush at his words, that does leave you a bit baffled and speechless. “I wasn't anticipating any family issues in your life story.” He says, remembering the Angel.

You grunt in annoyance, still with your arms crossed childishly. 

“As I said, you don't know me.”

“That's right,” he looks elsewhere. “I despise you.”

That stings a bit more than you expected. How could he claim not to like you? You've barely ever done anything to him.

“Just now, right?” He looks at you with curiosity, and a frown. “You didn't hate me when we first met. You were kind.”

He looks around the room as you say that, quietly remembering his pleasantry when he thought you were just a very powerful witch. He didn't want to think about being too soft and trusting with a demon, but you've done nothing if not show him loyalty and… friendliness.

And on the contrary to his beliefs, he was feeling yet stronger every day, after spending it with you.

He thought you'd weaken him. He thought he should keep himself away. 

He tried to shake away the small bubbling guilt he started to feel. He could see the little bruise, almost non-perceptible, that he'd left on your lips.

“Honestly,” he clears his throat. “I feel like it makes sense for me to doubt your truth.” He tries to explain, he knew you were lying to him about something you wouldn't tell.

You tilt your head arrogantly.

“Well, then you can despise me very far away from me,” you shoosh him away with your hands, like you're guiding a dog out. “Go, go, leave me alone.” 

He looks incredulous, kind of entertained by your gestures.

“You can't treat me like that, are you serious?” He says, but he's smiling at your funny attempts to stop him from bothering you. “I'm not a dog.”

“One day,” you confidently start. “I'll make you my little pet. My dog, a very misbehaved stray for me to train. Mark my words. You'll kneel at my feet.” He feels the power behind those words reach his groins as he shamelessly gives you an infuriating smile.

“Don't threaten me with a good time.”

“I'm being nice, you literally compared me to a–” you paused dramatically to say the next word. “bug, if you remember, from earlier, a bug.”

“Forgive me,” he said, smiling at you. It didn't feel very sincere.

You were quite shaken from his behavior, as much as you love playfully annoying him, his constant emotional barrier strikes you by surprise at times. 

Surprise only, not sadness. You wouldn't let yourself feel inferior for that, much less his silly offending names during rough sexual acts.

Besides, you like it when he's rough too.

Steve arrives a few minutes after, taking your attention away from the annoying god by your side. 

He brings his hands together and begins to explain the exercises you were about to practice, also, how every single training is depending on your specific powers and strength as an individual.

So you should have a partner that matches your level to fight with, and as there's no other match for magic…

“I guess you could say that's me.” Loki points at himself when you look for a partner.

“Look, I would fight you, of course,” you lift your hands up to him as you explain. “But frankly, I don't want to kill you.”

“Kill me?” He laughs. “You're so funny, little demoness.” He conjures his knives.

“Now be careful you two. We don't want to ruin our training with a real murder, we already have enough trouble at bay.” You quirk your eyebrow to Loki from Steve's words.

“See, you fool?” You make sure to make your hands a bit reddish with your powers now, warm enough to burn as you touch him, but not enough to be perceptible to others that you're using pyrokinesis. “No killing.”

Loki sees your little trick, he can feel your magic as you're close, and purposefully makes his hands colder too, he could only hope they didn't turn blue.

As you go for the first attack he hisses from the burn, he grabs your wrist and you feel the freezing touch on your skin.

“Oww!” You jump from the cold and feel the needle pricking sensation on your flesh. You gasp as you point accusing him. “Cheater! You're using ice powers! I didn't even know you had these.”

“You get caught unaware and assume I'm cheating now?” You take the moment of his distraction, and jump to fight him in another hurried way, like a wild beast.

He catches you by your hips while you keep hitting his head with your fists giving very burning sensations. Nothing truly harmful, so it doesn't step the limits.

He complains and winces from the touch. “We should agree on no pyrokinesis, to keep the battle fair.”

“Am I hurting the little prince?” You manage to ask, smiling devilishly as he still holds you up, attempting to take you off of him. 

“You truly are an annoying little imp, aren't you?” You feel the softness behind those words, your attacks now getting less intense. The others don't stop their training, you keep your focus on Loki's moves.

He manages to push you off of him with a blast of his green seidr, you fall on one of the comfortable mats on the floor, proper for practical fighting. 

You giggle as your body hits the ground, you give a thumbs up to him as you cradle your lower stomach. “Good one, man, you got me.” 

Loki doesn't know why he feels this… guilt as he watches you, the same position, you, on the floor. Quite the same as earlier but now your words rang in his ears.

You don't know why he's standing there like a fish left in thought, but you take the moment to lift yourself with easy flexibility, giving a superhero stance as you run towards him again.

Your powers make him hit the wall, he grunts and gives you a smile.

“Didn't hurt. Is this the best your powers can do?”

“I told you, I could kill you if I use them too much, be careful.” You tease and feel the magic tingling your veins, it excites you whenever you can use it freely like this. You were almost jumping like a kid from excitement.

“As much as magic may be a fascinating sight,” Natasha says, and you turn to face her. “Please, don't break anything in the way.” 

Bruce was sitting on a little chair as he spoke up. “Yeah, preferably everything in place.”

Loki grabs your arm and twists your body with his to the ground, hovering you again, and licking his lips. You feel the shock to your core as you look up his eyes, he gulps as he looks down into yours.

“Don't turn your back to your enemy, you really do need the training lessons.” 

You smile. “Well, I don't have to practice. I don't need to.” You easily turn his body around, pinning him down this time. 

He hungrily gazes your figure up on him, straddling him, then he catches your eyes again.

“See? I can do anything I want, sometimes you tend to forget.” You wink and press yourself closer to his chest, almost reaching his mouth as you speak.

“This doesn't look like the usual training we have around here,” Tony mutters, peeking from the open door. “This is why I don't participate in these things.”

You lick your lips and move to guide Loki's body up with you, he relents and attaches his hand to yours as you two move to stand up.

Once it's done, you stare at the sight of your hands together, you twist it a little, like a creature facing something unusual, analyzing it. It's not something you usually do. 

Nobody really ever held your hand, even in a situation as casual as this was.

He untangles his hands from yours. You feel the wish you could grab it back.

“Let's keep training.”

“Who do you train with?” You ask Thor, taking a breath from your training with Loki.

“With Loki, but you stole him from me,” he says, not very seriously, smiling at you and handing you a bottle of water. “My brother and I fight together all the time, it's almost tradition between us at this point. He's the only match for my Asgardian strength.”

It feels comforting to see the familiarity behind Thor's words, he's really nostalgic as he talks of his experiences of battle and training practices with his brother. 

“But it's great to see an equal match to him, one that shares magical abilities too,” he continues.

“It's rare those moments that you come to compliment me or my skill set,” Loki snickers at his brother. 

“I always speak the world of you,” Thor's words felt too honest, too impactful to a level you felt you were interrupting something personal about him, and his family.

You're in awe, his brother truly loves him.

But who are you to say anything to Loki? You know how he must feel. Left to always be the one in second place, his brother destined to have the throne.

Your eyes glance at the others still in action, your muscles ready to continue the fighting but you take the time to ponder your thoughts.

That's why Loki must be so restricted, so distrusting. He questions your every move, just because of your nature. 

You don't want to take Thor's side and tease Loki's moodiness, besides, it's not really your business, you don't know what they've been through.

“Do you want to train with him a little? We can keep going later,” You offer to Thor, and say the second part to Loki.

“Are you really selling me like that?” Loki asks jokingly with a smile.

“Yes. It's a very easy deal,” You say, the golden brother laughs and pats Loki's back.

“Let's do some battle moves, just like the old times,” Thor moves to grab his weapon, Loki doesn't seem excited, but he definitely seems used to it as he readies himself. “Then you will show the lady your fighting techniques.” 

You smile at the two, glad to be an audience.

“Just know I'll be rooting for you!” You loudly tell Loki, he stops short on his steps, processing your words. Then, he quietly moves to prepare for the training with his brother.

Some hours later, you find yourself walking towards Stark's common lab to pester him.

“There's a lot of new people coming around,” You say, shrugging your shoulders as you share with Tony. “This is ridiculous, why so many? Why do you even need so many people around?”

“This tower doesn't stand by itself.”

“It actually does, that's how buildings are made.”

“No, no, stupid, I meant the work around here. S.H.I.E.L.D and the Stark Industries.” Tony brings up, checking some files. “You're just complaining because your brother is getting pampered by the media, it's a good thing, at least it covers your face from the news.”

“My face in the media should be a delight, humans should be grateful. AND, you should know better than to call me stupid,” you meekly threaten.

“You don't scare us.”

“Because I choose not to,” your voice is cold.

“Right,” he pretends not to care. “But what is the matter with that? Having many people around.”

You sigh loudly as you look out of the lab, unfortunately seeing that there's one of the female agents talking with Loki. A blonde, high-pitched voice woman.

“Like, who the fuck is she?” You point to the woman close to Loki.

“Oh, that's Clair. She's one of the best in the business.”

“I bet she is,” you angrily muster. “Such a pathetic human name.”

“She's also incredibly Christian, maybe that's just your demon side speaking,” you pout from Tony's words. 

“Cheer up, sis, no one's stealing your man from you.” Ediel shows up and you give him an angry stare.

The lab was usually chillier than the common areas of the Tower, you wondered why Tony felt the need to keep everything cold and so robotic-looking, but again, you're not the scientist here. 

“You shouldn't even be here,” you bring up. “All of your species are insufferable, always bringing up their noses where they weren't called.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tony swears, passing his hand down his face in disbelief, and clear annoyance. “Could you shut the fuck up? Honestly, I'll pay for you to leave the house.”

You smile impishly, tilting your shoulders up and down in joy. Still smiling even as you look over where Loki is.

“Deal.”

“Wait, what?” Tony is confused.

“I want to go out!” You plead like a child. “But I can't go by myself…” 

“Poor Loki,” Ediel looks at the ceiling to avoid your face. “Not only is being held hostage here but has to deal with you and your possessiveness.”

A tilt of your wrist has his voice disappearing, surprising Stark with the sudden use of your magic like that. 

Ediel touches his throat and tries to figure out what's wrong with his vocal cords, because you've removed it with magic.

“Finally, some peace,” you sigh, then smile to leave their presence, moving towards the loud lady bugging Loki with her presence.

“Loki!” You call loudly, interrupting with a shake of your hand eagerly through the air. “Loki! Loki!”

He almost rolls his eyes, but holds back a smile. 

“Pardon,” he whispers to Clair. As you reach over, he puts his hand close to your stomach to stop you in your steps. He says your name. “Don't do–”

“Who are you?” You ask the woman whom you already know the name of, the sparkle in your eyes holding fake politeness. 

“Don't do anything irrational,” Loki's low tone orders, his timbre almost vibrating through your brain like a purr of a kitten, but he seems a bit too serious when he says these words. “Please, I know you.”

You gape at him and put a hand over your chest. Looking at the girl who's sheepishly looking back at you, shy now. 

She introduces herself calmly, you nod to recognize it but still pay more attention to Loki's insinuation.

“I'm not going to do anything, such a lack of trust! You need some therapy, man,” again, he sighs off, from the term, squishing his eyes shut now. “Therapy, some talking would do you good, for sure.” 

He passes his hand over his face in annoyance, you close your arms around him. He just puts his hand on your arm to steady you. 

“I'm a god, I don't need these things, a Midgardian giving me tips on how to live my life,” you're surprised he doesn't push you away, just keeps his hand over your arm, so you can look up from his chest.

He looks down at you to see you talk.

“Do they have therapy in Asgard?” 

“We do, we're just too proud to face it sometimes.”

“So that's just a general experience then. Good to know,” you don't want to waste his good mood too much.

Clair's just shamefully trying to move away to leave you two alone, trying to sneak out. You could only chuckle, the sound muffling against Loki's chest.

“You drove her away,” he states, not sounding harsh or upset. His hand caresses your back now, he also pushes your hair behind your ears. 

“I tend to do it a lot.”

“They're scared of you.”

“I know that too,” you could hear his heartbeat. “Do you know we're allowed out?” He knits his eyebrows, surprised, maybe it's a lie.

“How?”

“I tricked Stark, I think,” he can't hold back his smile from your sentence. 

In Asgard, Thor was the one that was considered the role model, Loki always tried to be like him. 

He recognized from an early age that his methods and thinking were too different from his brother's, it upset him, even his sense of humor contained more wit and tricks, his tricks would always bring the fun to the scenes most of the time.

It was somewhat devilish from the Asgardians perspective, the tricks, Loki wasn't naturally aware of how socially devious his pranks were.

Thor was always the one being praised, the more he tried to copy that, the lonelier he felt when he didn't receive the same treatment. 

The tricks felt like an escape, something that's his, his magic did that too. The mischief suddenly didn't come only for battle tactics or parties, or to call for the attention of his parents.

It became part of him, it grew within him, he couldn't get it away. To a point, he became known to it. Everybody knew of his tricks and lies, they grew popular and infamous. 

There were a lot of problems that came with being popularly known as a trickster, obviously. But altogether, it felt quite lonely. 

Something he thought to be inherently linked with being a trickster, and the God of Lies: you get no one's trust, no one sticks with you, he should grow used to loneliness.

His mother was the only one who's always seen him in a different light, even if it's difficult for Loki to admit— and he isn't going to say this outloud; but he knows she loves him. She loves him, she motivated him to learn more magic, she's one of the only people who could find the fun in some of his harmless tricks. She often says she's proud of his intellect, respecting him for all his individuality. 

She's the only person he resented not seeing from this deal of having to stick to Midgard. She's the only one he truly misses when he thinks of home.

His mind often convinces him most of the time that all she did was out of guilt, for lying to him for his entire life. 

He doesn't know why he feels so sour, that's why he's refusing to think too much about home lately.

But you?

Your bright eyes locking with his, he could only hope you don't hear the quick pounding in his chest. 

You came into his life with all he's been criticized for in his life, sharing it with him and not feeling ashamed of it for even a second. And for the first time, he's found someone who truly seems to admire all the powers he has, who shares the same mischief as him. A demon.

He never knows what to do with this information, he doesn't know what to think, it's like a huge barrier prevents him from trusting you. 

Whenever he thinks too much about your trustworthiness, the reminders of his time under Thanos' grip hit him like the blade of a sharp knife. He could still feel the phantom pains from the bubbling heat burning his skin, from the chains holding him as he tries to remember how it feels like to be safe.

And he'd often try to forget how painful the lies they told hurt him, he tried to think of home, searching for a feeling of safety, but it'd only bring him further down his pain, it would stick inside and mix with something traumatic, and bitter.

It's difficult, he still doesn't feel free. The nightmares make that, you make him doubt your loyalty, what if he wakes up one day and he's still there? 

Out there, dehydrating and begging for peace in his mind, feeling his bones weaken under his usually so tough skin. It still gives him goosebumps, he swallows in anxiety.

His hand is still on your back, you're curiously looking up at him. 

“Too deep into his own thoughts for me to see it,” you think, you're not so sure you, actually, wish to read his mind.

“Earth to Loki?” You ask. He brings his gaze to you again.

“Unfortunately, I'm still on this godforsaken planet,” you laugh.

“I'm going to make sure we can go out.”

“As in, like, from the Tower? Forever?”

“I was thinking just for like, a park or something,” you pretend to think. “But yeah, we can discuss escaping later. I have my ways.”

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101 @lokidbadguy

Darling.

Loki x reader — sick!fic, established relantionship.

No warnings, just fluff and comfort.

Loki takes care of you when you're sick and makes sure you feel better. He's really soft.

“I feel disgusting,” you say. The words coming out slurred as you struggled to breathe with your congested nose.

“Darling?” Loki asks, concerned. “Can I do anything to help?”

You don't want him to see you like this, in fact, you've been trying to ignore your sickness for a long time. 

You feel useless, you don't want to exist, the only acceptable thing to your mind is the thought of going to sleep, the aching pressure around your eyes begs to be closed. You're almost crying from shame.

“Darling,” Loki reaches around you, embracing his arms around your figure, even as you protest, he lifts you up in his arms. “You can't work like this. I know you're sick.” He watches your puffy face, all due to your crying and sneezing.

“No, I'm not, I'm okay,” your voice rough as you lie, fighting not to cough with your pained throat. “I'm not sick, I can do things just fine.” 

He still keeps you there, now making sure your face rests against his shoulder as he takes you to the kitchen, already preparing some tea for you two.

“Have you taken some medicine?” He asks and you keep your face hidden, ignoring the question. “You didn't?

“Don't be mad…” You begin.

“Why would I be mad, darling? Why would you not take your meds?”

“I don't wanna be sick, and I didn't know which ones to take, I took a pill but it didn't have any effect so I thought I'd just wait some more.” You're scared you'll sound pathetic to that, but Loki only rubs your back gently. 

Loki could sense the effort it took for you to talk, he keeps a concerned look on you as you only rest further to his chest. 

This is better, he thinks. She's accepting my help. My love.

Loki had a secret under his sleeve that could work, he could apply his healing magic to your tea — the magic his mother would give to both him and Thor when they got sick, on their younger days, the spell she taught him.

He remembers those days with nostalgic care, he keeps them in the depths of his heart for when his mind needs some kind memories, these parts are specially occupied with you, now. He misses his mother, but he can express the love he received in a new way.

You're shivering under his hands, so he conjures your fluffy, heavy blanket for you, covering you till your neck. 

He makes a mental reminder to prepare a warm bath as it's early in the evening, it'd help you feel better, and then he'd make sure you wear some warm clothes so you don't get any fevers.

“Love?” He asks you, your eyes are fighting to stay open but they're moist with tears from the cold. 

“Can't breathe,” you whine a bit in pain, closing your eyes and trying to rest but feeling the strong pang in your head.

“I'll make it feel better, love. I'm here,” He tells you, giving you a kiss. He was glad your temperature was normal as he felt it against his skin.

You cringe as his lips touch yours. “Don't kiss me… I'm gross,” your voice goes whinier than you wish for again, which he finds adorable.

“You can't pass me anything, my love. I'm a frost giant, I wouldn't get sick with mortal germs.” He gives you a kiss again.

“But I'm still gross though.”

“I could never find you anything close to gross, when I see you like this, I only wish to nurture you back to health, and make sure you're safe and loved, just as you deserve.” You try to hide your smile against his chest now, he can feel it, and it makes him beam with pride at making you feel a little better. “I hate to see you unwell.”

The tea is ready, he turns your body a little in his arms so you're facing the teapot as he makes two cups for both of you.

He makes sure you see the green sparkles leaving his hands as he puts your tea.

“I hope I'm making this right,” he blushes. “It's the spell our mother would pour on our teas when we were children, Thor thought it was disgusting.”

“Very good, really,” you joke around, smiling at him. “One of the few opinions I have, and little Thor thought it was disgusting.”

Loki gives you a tight lipped smile, but still smiles with his eyes too. He shakes his head.

“I think the magic is flavorless, the problem was just that Thor never really liked tea, and we just discovered a long time after,” he smiles at you. “So, my love, as I know you like this tea, I make sure everything is safe and good to your tastes.” He chuckles and you feel his chest move with the sound.

So you stay there, in his arms, watching his magic with a certain wonder, you'd never tire from this, he always loves the way you look at his magic, the way you look at him. It was never about the magic powers he carries, but the way you're the only person to look at him while he does it and appreciate him, just him, you like it when he does anything, you're the only one to look at him with this clear admiration your eyes always hold for him.

He quietly begins to hum a song for your ears, carrying you to the couch.

You move to take the tea and drink it. 

Loki touches your temple, he makes his fingers blue and —consequently, a little colder, just enough for your body to accept, reaching your forehead and keeping it there as you sip your tea.

He notices you're going quieter, just appreciating his acts, not really forcing yourself to speak anymore. He's glad, it makes him happy to see your body sliding slightly closer to him with each sip, probably almost too sleepy to notice. 

He conjures you the correct medicine, and you take it. With him kissing your forehead as you do so, like a little reward.

“I'd never shame you for being sick, you know,” He says, breaking the silence of the room. “I never want to see you feeling like you can't tell me again, even as your body starts to feel weak, even if the symptoms are just starting, tell me.”

“I will. I'm sorry.”

“I'm not mad,” he reinforces, quickly booping your nose, gently smiling at you. You stay quiet, he accepts that.

“How about a bath now?” The tea was warm like a balm to your throat.

You don't respond but complain with sounds of disapproval at having to move from the comfort of the couch, from under the cozy blanket.

“You'll feel better,” he comforts you, caressing your skin as he speaks in a low tone so as not to hurt your head. “I promise, just trust me.” 

He wraps his strong arms around your legs to push your entire body close to his, gluing you to him as he calmly princess-carries you to the bathroom. Patiently taking the time to hold you as he magically —to be quicker— makes the water warm enough for you and your tired body.

He helps you through the bath, bringing some things to make the bath time more relaxing like different soaps and a pink bath bomb.

“Bath bomb?” You laugh a little, glad the stinging in your head stopped a bit. You point to the product he held.

“It's fun, and I'm not used to these midgardian bath entertainments.” He gives you a kind smile and allows the comfort to surround you two as you take the bath together. 

He carefully washes your hair for you, massaging your scalp, hoping to show all his love through his fingertips and gentle caresses.

He moves down to your shoulders, your neck, pressing a bit harder in certain spots, then he slides down to your back with tender care. You hold your breath, and leave some moans of delight as your aching body feels the blessed touch.

“Are you feeling better, love?” He asks, you hum to agree, not wanting to ruin the moment. He muffles a laugh and keeps his loving touches.

Loki runs his hands across the other parts of your body with extra patience and passion, ignoring how sexual it could seem, he knows you're not wishing for it now. He still keeps a longer time washing you, and pressing his hands on your breasts, your chest, your stomach. Brushing among your thighs, anywhere he could show his love and feel your skin close to his.

He kisses your jawline, and moves your head a little to kiss you. The whole time was filled with loving little kisses, some all across your face, some on your lips as he couldn't have enough of your mouth, or enough of you.

The bath makes you feel clean and relaxed, you're allowing yourself to finally succumb to the peaceful affection he's showing you. It's almost overwhelming, you never thought you could have something like this, neither did he.

When the bath's over, Loki exits first to grab a fluffy, dry towel to wrap your body on. You got up and he immediately wrapped you in so you wouldn't face the brutal chilly air of getting out of the bath.

He takes you to the bedroom, your clothes are already on the bed. You tremble to think of removing the towel and facing the cold, but Loki makes sure that doesn't happen.

He puts you on a cozy green sweater, kissing your clothed chest as he's finished. Matching the sweater, he puts on you some warm pajama pants, then proceeds to kiss your stomach. 

He puts your socks on you, and gives a kiss to each of your ankles, almost reverently. Looking up at you with wonder, rubbing your legs. You almost weep at the sight, feeling overly emotional. 

After he's sure you're warm, he lets you decide on what to do next. You just want to sleep.

He turns off the lights of the house, and dims the one by the bedside table. He reaches for his book, this is one he's been reading without you, he thinks it's a bit too uninteresting to be shared, but now it might fit perfectly for the purpose of getting you to sleep.

You two created a habit of sharing your stories together, you love to sit around while he just reads for you. And whenever you read a story you really like, you get extra giddy to tell him every single detail about it, he loves it when you do so.

He knows how much you love his voice, and in moments like this, in which you need less loud noises, you can't help but pay even more attention to how soft his voice is as he speaks. You could listen to it for days, and thankfully, you can really listen to it all day, for days, he's yours.

He cozies you two under the sheets, the only light being the one by his side, so he can read to you, he makes sure it doesn't bother your eyes.

He holds your body on top of his, keeping a light hold not to pressure your skin, allowing you to rest your head on his neck, unbothered by the little sniffles of the remains of your sickness. He'll make sure to check some more spells later —unharming to humans, to be certain you get even better health soon after you drift off to sleep.

“I love you,” you say. He stiffens a little because it comes unexpectedly, then he relaxes. After all this time, Loki's still unused to these words.

He still gets surprised.

His expression softens and he can only hope you feel all the love radiating off of him.

“I love you, darling. Now rest, you'll feel better as soon as you wake up.” 

He begins reading to you from where he stopped, taking pauses a few times to explain some details to you, quietly. You pay attention to the sound of his voice, and his chest moving under you with each word he speaks, until you drift off to a comfortable night of sleep.

This is my apology for not having posted anything this week because I, once again, got sick, so I wrote this! Oh to have a Loki taking care of me.

I hope it can bring some comfort to you all!

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101 (I don't know if it's ok to tag in a sick!fic but it's ok if you don't feel comfortable with it ♡)

❤️

I understand that Loki is being very mean right now, he's doubtful for no reason other than his mistrust and he'll become softer, with time. for now, he just keeps reminding himself to stay alert >;(

I surely believe he'll pay for being mean and there WILL be ansgt, I totally understand the wish to hurt him too hahaha

sorry for the confusion, I'll make sure to make things clearer from now on. thank you for commenting.

❤️

Isn't Bite Also Touch?

(Loki X Female demon!reader)

Chapter seven! (check chapter 6!)

Summary: A lot of smut following, a bit of angst as they'll fight later on. Is there anything suspicious about the Angel?

Warnings: Smut!! Blasphemy, alcohol, fighting, (physical aggression, scratching) improper use of magic, slapping, verbal insults, screaming, probably a bit of exhibitionism, (but not really? Loki's pretty possessive, he's just really mad) hate-sex, rough fuck, mean Loki.

“Not the shoes!” Thor exclaimed scandalously as he watched the scene.

Loki makes a disgusted sound with his throat, stepping carefully and processing the fact there was demon vomit on his new, expensive, on-brand shoes. Messily, as he's still groggy with all the alcohol on his system, he lifts his hand up the air and magically removes the offending substance off his shoes.

“Be careful next time.” He harshly commands, but you're still dizzy and fighting to remain steady, trembling on your feet, his eyes soften as he sees your state. “Is it better now? Do you need to go somewhere?” He asks and receives no answer from you.

“You've never really enjoyed my presence, have you?” The Angel speaks up. It's weird to see you looking so small. “And the first impression I have of you after all these years is of you throwing up, your body has gotten weak.” The Angel repulsively spits out, you refuse to look at him and pull an extremely confused Loki by his arms, dragging him out of there.

You two get together inside a tiny, hidden, locked room. Loki restlessly demands information of the angel who just appeared to ruin your party. 

“Fuck it, I shouldn't have allowed myself to drink so much.” You put your hands on your head, feeling the stinging sensation.

“It was fun while it lasted, you have to admit.” 

“You just liked seeing me lose control.” You bring up, still not looking at him.

“You always have control of everything.” He points out.

“Do I?” You smirk knowingly, licking your lips at his attitude. He looked all disheveled and your sudden unquietness within yourself made you want to explode. “Damn it, just take your fucking clothes off.”

“Excuse me?” He blinks and gapes a bit, looking stupid, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. He takes off his shoes, and his hands jump to unfasten his shirt but he just hesitates until you say it again.

“You heard me, take them off.” You say and push his chest until his back lays against the soft, foreign bed. “Do you want me to do it for you?” You were out of patience and reaching to straddle his body beneath yours.

He gulps and proceeds to do as you say, fighting to take his shirt off his torso as quickly as possible, resisting the temptation to lift his hand and touch your skin after he's shirtless. He just keeps them there up beyond his reach.

Oh. 

He's keeping his hands to himself, up his head, presenting his body to you. You give a diabolic smile that shows your pointy teeth, as you're close to salivating at the sight of his muscular pecs exposing his heavy breathing and very very warm sweat speckling down his skin.

You lean forward closer to his face, locking eyes with him, just to close your fingers around each of his wrists. Keeping it there lifted now with full control, just like he wanted, his pupils are dark and his eyes so pleasing you're starting to think you're drunk on something else. 

He groans, closing his eyes in response from the pleasure of you squeezing his skin tight as you suffocate his senses with your body practically glued to his.

“Fuck.” It's all you can muster, you never could have guessed drunk-you would be so lacking for words. Maybe it's just his intoxicating aroma deafening your senses.

“Demoness,” he puts himself through a test and tries to let go of your hands. He succeeds and gives you a very bright malicious smile. “You temptress,” His eyes sparkle with malice as he hungrily watches your body burn under his fingertips. “My mistress bathed in sin.”

His hands snake down your skin and you allow it, for now. He's still smiling and still licking his lips at the sight of you on top of him. The moment stops for you as you notice his eyes sparkle a bit more as he admires.

Then he turns you around and pins you under his body, with all the pressure he can apply. And you try to squirm out but it's like his body is made of iron with how heavy he is on top of you, locking you beneath him. 

His hellish amusement is there and now you grunt out to the air.

“I allowed it,” you brag.

“Of course you did, you're just a horny stupid little thing, aren't you?” You get red from his words, but he doesn't relent, and he can sense you're starting to shake a little. “You'd let me do all the work.”

“You can't–”

“Can't what?” His hips grind against yours, both of you still clothed but craving, dying for the friction. “Can't what? You brought me here, wouldn't want to ruin the party for me, would you, little one? No…” He runs his mouth down the skin of your neck to your breasts, and his cold breath is making you shiver. “No, you have something to give me.” He almost orders. And you spread your leg a little wider in invitation, he pulls your dress up and his hands start kneading your ass.

Your teeth are gritted in response to his degrading words. But you just swallow your defenses, both of your dizzy drunken brains managing to make the situation much simpler as you just allow him to take control.

He is visibly excited for this, preparing you with his touching, delighting on your sounds and huffs of pleasure, “Are you okay? Is this okay?” he frowns a bit as he remembers, waiting patiently as you can read the underlying question: do you truly want this? Are you sober?

Your heart palpitates faster, your gaze is dazzled with wonder, noticeable for a while, as you stare into his questioning but patient eyes. You're okay, you know you are, but you're more than pleased to know he's a man of morals even when you can feel how horny he is, pulsing against the skin of your thighs.

Also, it's not very often that you see gods being morally correct. Or not just caring about themselves, if there's one thing you've been impressed with since the beginning, it's about how Loki, somehow, always cares for you, even when he pretends he doesn't.

“I'm ok, it's ok.” You consent, nodding a little, and wait a moment in silence. “Are you ok?”

He seems lost while gazing hungrily at your body, his mouth open as he unconsciously unleashes his breathing. Grasping you a bit too hard around your hips, he looks into your eyes again. “Yes, yes I am.”

It's the last thing you hear before he dives between your thighs, looking feral as he admires your glistening pussy, he silently wonders if he's been bewitched, for he felt starved from your delicious cunt and it's only been an hour —if he still remembers properly. But damn it now, he doesn't care about anything else but you and your scent, poisoning his system.

He curses a Nordic profounity, “Fuck, fuck. Demoness, you're killing me now, I'm sure of it. You're poisoning me,” he states and you push him to eat you out, forcing his words to an end as you smile up to the ceiling so adoringly, feeling his skilled tongue pleasing you.

“I wouldn't kill you,” You breathe out shaking. Soon you wouldn't be able to even feel your legs as they're numbing from overstimulation, your body recalling the early hours of the party. You moan loudly as you jolt from the thought and from Loki's tongue hitting your sweet spot.

When he pulls out, there's your essence tainting his lips, you curse out to all the princes of Hell. They could be damned now, you'd let this god do anything to you, if kept looking at you like you carry the whole world, eating you out like you're the best thing his lips ever tasted.

Loki keeps your thighs well spread out for him, giving a kiss to your stomach, and your heart waves at the soft touch. That was so cute, to you. He keeps kissing and licking the area, giving small bites at times when noticed you got too ticklish, or squirmed more under his touch.

When his body went up his kisses came too, and you felt the head of his cock move up and down to drown in your juices, coming close to your clit just to tease and moving down, slowly again.

“L-Loki,” You wave, quivering under his ferocious gaze. He licked his lips as he watched you like you're his last meal. His hand lands on your lower back. ”Please,” you gulp dumbly as you watch him. “Just fuck me.”

“Ask nicely.” He teases more, his hand close to holding you down by your neck. You whimper as you feel the head of his cock entering you, he takes a deep breath to keep his ground as he awaits your begging. Almost unable to contain himself, his jaw clenched and hands twitching, hurting your skin but you don't mind.

You force yourself to swallow your pride. Rolling your eyes a bit too harshly before feeling him pulling out and entering more of his cock into your sensitive cunt, you're unused to the size and your walls are stretched with a tad discomfort. He chuckles.

“Do you feel pain, little slut? Who would've thought, a dirty demon like you.” He cruelly mentions your visible, slight discomfort. Mocking. 

You tilt your head to him, clenched jaw but pleading eyes still wanting to feel more of him despite the pain, the need to feel him deep inside you needing to be scratched.

“Please,” you keep going, jaw still clenched, you can pinpoint submissiveness to the alcohol, later. For now, you want him, all of him. “Please, please, please. Give me your cock.” Your hands clench around his shoulders as you bring him closer, he grants you your wish.

Your knees have given out and you feel helpless for the first time in so long, your whole body was pinned against him as he speared into you with such a furious intensity, getting so deep you gasped in utter surprise. His hands around your neck and a whispered sign down your earlobe to “Keep begging me,” and you're at a loss, babbling the sound of his name and the word 'please'.

He reaches around to touch your clit, matching his unforgiving pace, picking up his speed as he groans feeling you clench around him so deliciously. Small yelps left your throat with each of his harsh thrusts, you're a mess as your back arches closer to his chest.

His hand moves to hold your back carefully as he keeps heavily grunting onto your ear, his breathing deep and low voice demanding of your pleasure. He harshly grasps your skin with his nails, you scratch his back together from all the pressure hitting your sensitive cunt.

As he massages your clit, it makes you jolt under his touch with each stroke. His thrusts becoming more and more animalistic, brutal, he rams into you, your whole body is shaking roughly with his brutish pounding.

You can barely hear your own moaning as Loki fills all of your senses, he is everything you touch and his growls and grunts are all you hear. You two fill the quiet room with the sound of sex and moaning.

“Look at you,” he gloats. “You were so insistent upon not looking inferior, now you tremble beneath me.” He gives a slow, harsh thrust, to emphasize his point, your eyes roll and your mouth opens, almost drooling. “Pray to me.” 

His words come out rough and too low timbre. your whole body shivers and your core tightens, burning from his words alone, he gets so fast-paced with his pounding you can't even catch a breath.

“W-w-wh-what?” You ask among his savage rhythm. Your mouth is in the shape of an 'O' as he pulls out only to slip even further inside you, if that's possible.

“You heard me,” He messily moves his hand from your back to pull your hair. It makes you remember the other time, when he refused to sleep with you. You give him a shameless, taunting smile. 

He yanks your hair locking eyes with you, a deep moan escapes your lips in response. “Pray to me. Pray, and this God might save your devious soul. I'm the only God you have to think of.”

Little does he know, —although he should — but you don't have a soul to be saved. It's not like you're going to correct him now. 

Your head moves back and forth mixing with his body smashing against your flesh, you don't fear the dizziness that'll install later, his fucking making you completely mindless.

You gulp and sob out, your brain struggling to remember how to speak through the fogginess of pleasure.

“In-In- nomine Patris, et- Filii, et Spiritus Sancti,” you start, broken Latin as you fight to remember what the prayers are—those that make your skin burn with their Grace— his punishing pounding getting worse and more frantic as your praying comes to life.

“T-t-tu es qu-qui jaces in-in-in Coelis, gratia plena,” your voice is trembling, fighting to keep the tone alive. You sob your tears from the sensitivity blinding your sight through the sinful act. The blasphemy drowning you, filling the pits of your stomach. “i-in omnibus nobis omnia praesens, omnium salvator.” You spit out the end, locking eyes with him.

“Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra–” You trip over your words as he starts sucking and biting your neck.

He furiously rubs his hand against your clit. His voice strained to say the next words, his breaking point coming present as he pronounces all his Asgardian splendor.

“C-come, come now. Kom for meg, min lille djevel.” You scream and spasm around him, clutching all you can grab of him, wanting to feel as much as possible. You see stars as you cum around him, shaking, the squelching sound so sinful reaching your ears.

Loki growls near your jawline, his thrusts getting slack as he's closer to completion. He shudders, you feel his cock pulsing inside of you, filling you full with his warm cum.

Loki's breaths are labored as his thrusting slows down, riding his orgasm. When he pulls out, there's the trace of semen tainting your skin and trickling down your thighs.

You're panting heavily as he pulls you closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours, he leans forward to kiss you. You didn't even get to catch a breath as he changes your position and deepens the kiss.

You felt your body aching from the sex, your head was spinning from the damned alcohol you had last night. As much as it hurts to feel some pins and needles, you still had the new — horrifying—experience to feel human.

You don't know how you feel about that. 

Lifting yourself as quickly as possible to hurry to the bathroom, as you feel nauseated, you suddenly remember your conditions and physically recoil from agony and disgust of yourself.

Throwing up? You've allowed yourself to throw up? Especially in front of your 'brother'? At a party filled with humans?

Outrageous, gross. You want to kill your human form and remove the skin to stop from feeling so dirty and humane. But all you can express outloud is a sincere grunt of annoyance, grabbing the skin of your stomach.

It takes some time, you arrive at the bathroom and contain your vomiting, using your magic to stop the sickness and the lightheadedness, throwing up now would make you simply refuse to exist. 

It takes time for you to notice Loki's not in the room.

You take a look at the place, analyzing every detail you didn't notice before. And hurry to get out of there and find Loki.

You end up bumping into him as you walk out of that strange room, he looks you up and down, his mind rushes through the thoughts of your well-being, then he seems to put himself together. Clearing his throat.

His mind rushed through a series of nightmares he had last night, but they came to you as a bunch of blurred images. 

The last time he had nightmares, he thought it was your fault, but after spending the night feeding off your delectable supernatural body he wondered how he could have such torturous, painful nightmares. Especially after such a long time since he had the company of anyone in his sleep.

It hit him like a plague, and ruined his mood, apparently that would never leave him.

“Morning.” Insouciant, why would that be?

“Good morning!” You exclaim, merry to see him. He looks confused. “Where were you going? I didn't see you. I'm pretty sure you still slept in the same bed as me last night.”

“That's none of your business.” Once again, you're facing the mean kitty. You sighed.

“You were much easier to deal with last night. You were very touchy, if I can say.” You remember him and all the clear touching you shared at the party and at the end of it.

“Look, just because I fucked you doesn't mean I feel anything for you, so you should stop looking for me.” He looked very serious as he said this, you suddenly feel so much of a feeling you've never felt before. Like cold water has just been poured down your good mood. A foreign feeling pounding into your chest.

Shame.

And he continues.

“It was a wonderful fuck, and I'd love to do it again, even though you're insufferable and… surprisingly weak for a being such as a demon, it makes me a bit disappointed, I expected more a bit more.” He tilts his head arrogantly as he dares to put you down.

You weren't expecting to feel such a weird pang in your heart from his words, it's not sadness, but anger instead. Your face fell and you closed your fist around your chest. 

“I've only never left because you never truly wanted me to go away,” you give him a fake smile, your eyes burning, denying the tears. “You may say whatever you want, but you know you've always been alone and the one that's never picked. The last option, the second, unwanted child, I know. Always the shadow of another, you delight yourself upon the attention I give you.” You close your mouth but look very sour, wanting to hurt him.

“I could say the same of you,” He says through gritted teeth and clenched jaw. Pointing towards you in spite. “Your 'brother' made you throw up last night, who are you to say you're not also unwanted? Is that the main reason you seek attention from me? Because you crave it? Or is it because you can't let me go? You've said it yourself, demon, your attraction to my powers, to my magic, to me. It doesn't make you want to go away, so what do you have to say? Your infatuation makes you weak and predictable. I've said this from the start, you're the one that's been too fucked dumb until you forgot this fact.” He spits it all out, looking down at you, his eyes looking so sharp like knives.

“You know nothing about me.” You say coldly, breaking your charismatic endeavor.

“You've shown me your cards a long time ago, little demon. I know how you work,” He's too proud, you burn with rage. “I could use your body like my personal sex toy and you wouldn't even deny me, would you? Having my personal demon slave to break until you cry, that's how emotional you are, you'd probably just break down to pieces. Are you having fun with the humans? Are they making you as pathetic as they are? Do you want to save the world with them, do you think any sensible human on this planet would consider you a hero?” His voice trembles as he says the last sentence. 

The next noise that the room echoes is a sudden snap, Loki's face red, burning from the mark of your violence. You slapped him. 

Your gaze is distant as you watch his surprised eyes burning with agitation from having startled you. You're suddenly filled with anger to a point you start hitting his chest.

He can prevent all the attacks, and he doesn't take it seriously, you'd probably scare a mortal but Loki's way too egotistical now, all your early compliments of his powers feeding into his image of being superior, mistakenly thinking he's superior to you.

And over all of this, he's convinced he hates you. He can feel the scratches stinging and marking their presence on his pale arms as you tried to attack with your bare hands.

He loses composure and falls with you on top of him, your hands squeeze his arms harshly, craving your nail into his skin, purposefully strong enough and wanting to make it bleed. It pleased you. 

He leaves a hiss as he locks your hands again, but he can still feel the scratching and gripping and hitting throughout other parts of his body.

“How are you doing this?!” He exclaims feeling the punches still hit him as he holds down your fists.

It's comparable to a ghostly touch, it's aggressive, freezing and scorching at the same time, you were all like the demon you're supposed to be. Exposing the anger and the punishment against his skin being the victim.

“You're only scared because you know I hold the truth.” He says.

“You can't offend me, Laufeyson. I only give you what you deserve,” You spit on him, and he backs off, leaving your hands free as you get angrier on top. “You can't, I know every one of your sins, I know your fears.”

“You don't know what I am,” he said sadly, trying to keep a stable look. “You don't.”

“I know you're the spoiled child here, not me.” You say, “You act like you're so tortured but you've had everything in life and you're nothing but a spoiled little prince that deserves nothing but cruelty, so you'll know how others feel.” You look into his eyes as you're wishing to hurt him. “Maybe I should punish you myself,” you sound a bit too serious, as if another play-pretend is coming to an end, a bit too out of your mind. “What do you think? Should I? Should I make your life a living hell? Should I make you pay for the souls you've killed? I promise it's more than some hundred people the Avenger's data claim to be. Come on, Loki!” You scream at his face, still straddling him, his hands shaking now but unmoving to push you off.

“Come on, Loki!” You continue, “Think of the parents, their children, growing up alone after you killed them, the families ruined. Should I make you suffer for them all?”

He looks sad now, you could see the tears silently showing on the corners of his eyes. You couldn't stop, you don't feel guilt, it doesn't come with your nature. 

“You wouldn't dare. Even if I deserve it, you wouldn't punish me.” He coldly says, trying to snap against you, he's surprised he can't do it this time.

You close your mouth and give him a furious look, you know you shouldn't speak now, you don't want him to know too much about you. You can't, so you lie.

“You're right,” you lie, too saccharine, coming too easily, you just have to look a bit defeated. He doesn't look like he believes you, ever so doubtful. “You're right, I said I wouldn't. I can't punish you.” 

He doesn't want to think about your trustworthiness, nor about his arguments. He closes the distance between the two of you, right out of the foreign room, out there in the hallway. 

In contrast to the night before, now his touch only shows his anger and shame instead of any passion.

He doesn't want you to feel anything other than his hatred and fury, he's angry, all too angry at your words. At your daring to look innocent and bubbly, at your fake pretend act, at your secrets, at your constant clinginess, at your touches. At you. He's angry at you, he's quickly convinced he hates you and that you're messing with his mind to make you seem like a good person.

He growls against the inside of your mouth as he seeks forward your open shirt, grabbing the skin with the equal pressure of wishing to make it bleed too, he cupped the back of your head and brought you close as he brutally bites your lower lip. 

“Ow, you fuck–” You complain, feeling it bleed, lifting your hand instinctively to touch the wound, he grabs your hand and keeps it down in place. Using his seidr to remove his pants and all of your clothes, the top of his asgardian leather vest prodding your bare stomach, you look around the hallway, scared someone will pass by. “The cameras. Someone might–”

“I'm tired of your feigned innocence.” He angrily silences you, he puts his hand to cover your mouth and your mumbles stuffle around his palms. “Let them see. Let them watch.” He rolls his hips roughly to your pelvic arch, pumping his cock to prepare and grunting out to the Heavens as he slides it into your already dripping hole. 

You didn't want to confess how much the possibility of any strangers watching enticed you. “Let them see who brings the demon to her knees.” You bite his hand harshly and he hisses, grabbing your chin violently and squeezing, feeling your dental arch under the skin of your face. Your lips plump bright from his harsh kissing.

“Fuck, no–” You squeak out, not meaning it, but he still hesitates, until you glance at him and nod again, more frenetically, trying to get him to move as you babble meaningless denials. He keeps his thrusting, going harder and harder, making you grip his hips to steady. Afraid someone will hear the noise of your flesh hitting together ferociously. “Oh, OH!” You scream out.

“I want to devour you, you cruel thing.” He tightens his grip on your chin while pistoning your poor cunt. “I want to eat you up, you're a little bug compared to me. Tiny little useless little bitch.” He keeps his punishing pace. “This is the punishment you'll receive, tell me, do you like it? Am I being fair? It's an honorable punishment, being my little cumslut, I'll make you my little cum dumpster,” his eyes sparkled as he said the term to refer to you. “I'll fill you up and you won't be able to move, feeling me right here with your every step, feeling the stickiness that'll mark you as mine, so you'll forget your bratty behavior.” He puts his hand to rest on your womb, and you moan loudly, locking eyes with the tiny, almost unnoticeable, camera. Not knowing if it's on or not, either way, you're likely giving a whole performance.

“Ah! Oh, no,” you feel your eyes sting with tears as you're pinned down, against the cold floor. Your legs give out whilst they also tremble with every hit of his skin against yours. 

He pulls out quickly and turns you around, now your mouth is fighting to stay far from the ground. He yanks your hair as he pushes your entire face towards the floor, arching your lower back, presenting yourself to him. He kicks your legs open to hurriedly shove his throbbing, aching cock, inside of you again.

The manhandling got you shaking for him, his thrusting forceful as your face dizzily scratched in contact with the harsh freezing floor of the hallway. He's pounding into you as if to convince himself of his lack of care for you. 

Reaching his fingers around you to eagerly touch your clit, wishing for your constricting walls to suffocate his cock, to unknowingly pull him in deeper so he could flood your insides with his seed.

He wanted to make the devil tremble beneath him every single time, to feel your knees weak for him, he feared he was addicted. Your body invites him with such warmth, to paint your walls white with his cum.

When he feels you jolting harshly, he growls and his hips snap strongly to guide you through your orgasm, not relenting in his pace. You felt yourself getting too overstimulated as you moaned very soft whines and pushed your hands weakly against his chest. 

He kept a vicious pace until his thrusting began getting uneven as he grunts out loudly, pushing your skin as he fills your abused cunt with loads of his cum.

Both of you lay out of breath on the floor, trying to recover a balanced breathing pattern, his marvelous hand still grasping your skin as strong as he could, instinctively.

Once you both recover, he moves his fingers to magically redress himself. Keeping you dumbly watching him, even as he lifts off of your body, he doesn't make a move to dress you.

“You're such a dick.” You spit out the words, looking around to check where your clothes are, before remembering he magicked them off.

“I could help you, of course,” He pretends to think of something. “But I'll only do so, if you tell me what's the deal with the angel.” He brings the topic out of the blue.

“I don't need your help!” You exclaim angrily, getting up naked. “You don't scare me, Loki.” You give him a stern look.

“I should. You should be scared of me. And you don't look half as terrifying as you think you do, while you're naked.”

You ignore the teasing and focus on the way he's trying to intimidate you. “You're just a god. I've seen millions of them.” 

“Which only fuels my curiosity, can I even know how old you are?”

You grunt out and physically hesitate, you despise going anywhere near personal talk. You make new clothes magically reappear.

“I could get you naked in a snap of my fingers if you don't answer me.” He smirks, glancing down at your body.

“I think you forget I'm more powerful than you.” You state still denying him attention.

“I should probably wait for a team meeting, so I could make everyone see how much of a beauty you are.” 

“They probably already know.” You glance at the camera, that's not speckling any light to sign its functioning. “Or maybe not, either way, I could get you naked in a second too.” You dared.

“Oh, I hope you do.” He grabs your waist and presses both of his hands down your stomach.

“In the middle of the hallway?!” Stark insults, accompanied by a frantic Steve by his side.

“We should create a rule of no sex around the tower.”

“Everybody would lose within a week, dumbass, only you wouldn't.” Stark pats his chest, you get yourself out of Loki's grip. “We all saw what you two did last night on the table, your luck is that a lot of people do the same in these parties. Just don't do it very…often.” He refuses to look at you two.

You don't answer him and just walk away, reaching another huge area. Most of the spaces resemble the living room for resting, that's close to the meeting room. It's not really your fault for not knowing the places or their purposes yet.

“Don't you want to go down to the training room?” Steve asks you, walking in with you. “It'll be useful, it's what we usually do around these hours. And you'll probably need to do it one time or another.”

“I'll think about it–” You end up bumping someone as you were staring at Rogers. 

“Where are your manners?” Inquiries the being, the great Symbol of Heaven. “Honestly, sister, you've been falling off your feet a lot since the party.”

“Don't call me that.” 

“Do you have something against him?” Stark asks, a bit rhetorically, as he can already sense the answer.

Loki arrogantly tilts his head now that he knows it'll be difficult for you to walk away.

“Of course I have, I don't want to be near him.” You say.

“You don't have to.” The Angel responds.

“Have you people just adopted him now?” Loki asks the two headmasters of the group, and they both look at each other. 

“Firstly, we don't "adopt"–” Stark got interrupted mid his sentence, as the angel presented himself.

“I am å̵̫̭̹̳̟̮͉͙̲̉͜͜ͅá̶̹̦̈̎͊̍͒̇̕̚͝͝ą̷̱̻̞͉̾̂͊̈́a̸̲̜͙̣̦̙͚̞̹̻̠̓̄̈́̈́a̴̤͈̻̾͊͌̄a̶̧͇̠̜̼̻̹̱͔̳̯̘̔̀͊̈́̆̉̈̋͒̋a̶̮̞͉͖̝̿͜ṇ̷̛̮̗̮̪̫̱̻̳͚̝͍̅́̓͆̄̊̏̿̄̐̾̚͜͝͝͝ģ̵̧̡̛̗̘͓̱̫̦͉̰̯̰̗͍͇̥̳̝̲̭̳͖͊͒̄̅̎́̃̒̐̓̌̚̕͝͠͠ę̵̨̢̧͇͉̮̲͇̠̠̘̝̬̜̣͈̗͉͓͎̣̻̓̅̈́̇͌̌̀̽̀̀͊̆̅̒̃̚͘̕͘͝͝ĺ̷̟̪̬̙͈̉̈̋̋́͆͐̐̑̐̐̃͊̄̚̕͝ Ediel.” His words give a glimpse in space, and time, and everyone questions their sanity for a second, they could swear they saw something. Ediel is as bright as the sun when he grins at his sister.

“Did you guys see that?” Asks Thor as he walks through the door.

“See what?” You question, not knowing what he's talking about.

“I-I…the thing̛̱͙̟̪̣̠̓̒͑̽–” Thor looks around, then something stops while they're all still looking at the angel.

Thor enters the room again and repeats the same question. 

“Did you guys see that?” The god asks.

“See what?” You question him.

“I don't remember…” Thor looks down, confused, a finger on his chin as he wonders. They all look at each other now and Tony points at you.

“Just don't kill each other while you're here, he may be good for us, it's always safe to be in the presence of an angel.”

“I actually feel much safer indeed.” Steve expresses and you roll your eyes. Loki knew you had nowhere to hide now.

“Why do you hate him?” Loki asks you.

“Don't you also hate your brother? I have my reasons.” You snap and try to run away once more, until Tony gets ahold of your arm. 

“Calm down now hocus pocus, what is it that you have to say? We have the right to know, what if it's something dangerous?”

“Why is everyone so stuck in this? I have the right to not say anything if I don't want to.”

“I don't see what's wrong either,” Ediel says, defending you. “My sister should feel free to walk away just as she wants to.”

“He seems nice. Just a bit off-putting.” Thor brings up watching the other blond.

“Now you know what you're like.” Loki bickers with Thor. And they share a look close to a childlike war.

“Ediel is a fallen angel,” You tell the group with a quiet tone, wanting nothing more than to go away. “Anything—anyone, that falls out of Heaven must be an evil entity, a fraud, a sinner–”

“If that were true, that'd appeal to you,” Ediel says. “This is everything demons admire. If the accusations were truthful, you'd have no reason to hate me.” The avengers could sense how little you felt close to the golden angel.

“They don't know you. They don't know us. Stay out of my way.” You point to your brother and walk out.

“Do you want to explain the whole 'sister' thing?” Loki casually brings up the topic as Ediel keeps a watch on your way out. “She doesn't seem to cooperate, so who knows, you might actually be useful.” He says to the angel.

Ediel feels bashful before speaking, “It's actually fairly simple,” he says your name and proceeds to talk about you. “She is related to Satan himself, raised by Him, and unfortunately so am I, now.” He says feeling his heart ache with shame.

“However that's not a reason for any of you to hate me, or mistrust me,” he quickly explains as their eyes wander around. “I stay in a different position, I'm never in Hell and I've never been close to it, I stay on the surface nearby Earth. I'm more of an actual fallen angel, I'm a guardian, a protector. A savior.”

Loki rolls his eyes in annoyance, “That's what your sister claimed too, when I first met her. I've heard enough.” He tells them and moves somewhere else too, Thor follows him with a sheepish expression.

“I am a being created by God,” Ediel says to the others. “He loves me, as he does to you all, but unfortunately I'm too close to Satan here. Too close, unfortunately, to be mistaken with a demon. I'm just grateful to know my truth, and I'll keep my guard upon us, against the evil that is the demon that inhabits here.”

Everyone looks convinced that this angel won't go away. But Tony needed to state some things.

“Right, cherub, we don't need help. Demoness is not a terrifying or evil entity, she's been cooperating, and at the exact moment she decides to misbehave, the authorities–” Tony gives a dramatic pause to make sure his point comes across. “will deal with her. Earth authorities, the law. We're not afraid of your evil little friend. You can stay calm.”

“It's still an obligation that I have to stay present and keep a watch.” 

“That makes me quite uncomfortable,” Steve says. “What do you mean by keeping a watch?”

“Nothing frightful, human, I promise you. I'll stay here to ensure everyone's safety, and I'll make sure to be a good spirit to all, I'm the bringer of God's words and great spirit.” He gives everyone a bright smile again.

Translations: In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti = In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Tu es qui jaces in Coelis, gratia plena =Thou who art lies in Heaven, full of Grace.

In omnibus nobis omnia praesens, omnium salvator = He is present to all of us, the savior of all.

Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in Terra = Thy kingdom come. Thy wish will be done, as it is in Heaven and on Earth.

Kom for meg, min lille djevel = Come for me, my little devil.

★

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101

Isn't Bite Also Touch?

(Loki X Female demon!reader)

Chapter seven! (check chapter 6!)

Summary: A lot of smut following, a bit of angst as they'll fight later on. Is there anything suspicious about the Angel?

Warnings: Smut!! Blasphemy, alcohol, fighting, (physical aggression, scratching) improper use of magic, slapping, verbal insults, screaming, probably a bit of exhibitionism, (but not really? Loki's pretty possessive, he's just really mad) hate-sex, rough fuck, mean Loki.

“Not the shoes!” Thor exclaimed scandalously as he watched the scene.

Loki makes a disgusted sound with his throat, stepping carefully and processing the fact there was demon vomit on his new, expensive, on-brand shoes. Messily, as he's still groggy with all the alcohol on his system, he lifts his hand up the air and magically removes the offending substance off his shoes.

“Be careful next time.” He harshly commands, but you're still dizzy and fighting to remain steady, trembling on your feet, his eyes soften as he sees your state. “Is it better now? Do you need to go somewhere?” He asks and receives no answer from you.

“You've never really enjoyed my presence, have you?” The Angel speaks up. It's weird to see you looking so small. “And the first impression I have of you after all these years is of you throwing up, your body has gotten weak.” The Angel repulsively spits out, you refuse to look at him and pull an extremely confused Loki by his arms, dragging him out of there.

You two get together inside a tiny, hidden, locked room. Loki restlessly demands information of the angel who just appeared to ruin your party. 

“Fuck it, I shouldn't have allowed myself to drink so much.” You put your hands on your head, feeling the stinging sensation.

“It was fun while it lasted, you have to admit.” 

“You just liked seeing me lose control.” You bring up, still not looking at him.

“You always have control of everything.” He points out.

“Do I?” You smirk knowingly, licking your lips at his attitude. He looked all disheveled and your sudden unquietness within yourself made you want to explode. “Damn it, just take your fucking clothes off.”

“Excuse me?” He blinks and gapes a bit, looking stupid, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. He takes off his shoes, and his hands jump to unfasten his shirt but he just hesitates until you say it again.

“You heard me, take them off.” You say and push his chest until his back lays against the soft, foreign bed. “Do you want me to do it for you?” You were out of patience and reaching to straddle his body beneath yours.

He gulps and proceeds to do as you say, fighting to take his shirt off his torso as quickly as possible, resisting the temptation to lift his hand and touch your skin after he's shirtless. He just keeps them there up beyond his reach.

Oh. 

He's keeping his hands to himself, up his head, presenting his body to you. You give a diabolic smile that shows your pointy teeth, as you're close to salivating at the sight of his muscular pecs exposing his heavy breathing and very very warm sweat speckling down his skin.

You lean forward closer to his face, locking eyes with him, just to close your fingers around each of his wrists. Keeping it there lifted now with full control, just like he wanted, his pupils are dark and his eyes so pleasing you're starting to think you're drunk on something else. 

He groans, closing his eyes in response from the pleasure of you squeezing his skin tight as you suffocate his senses with your body practically glued to his.

“Fuck.” It's all you can muster, you never could have guessed drunk-you would be so lacking for words. Maybe it's just his intoxicating aroma deafening your senses.

“Demoness,” he puts himself through a test and tries to let go of your hands. He succeeds and gives you a very bright malicious smile. “You temptress,” His eyes sparkle with malice as he hungrily watches your body burn under his fingertips. “My mistress bathed in sin.”

His hands snake down your skin and you allow it, for now. He's still smiling and still licking his lips at the sight of you on top of him. The moment stops for you as you notice his eyes sparkle a bit more as he admires.

Then he turns you around and pins you under his body, with all the pressure he can apply. And you try to squirm out but it's like his body is made of iron with how heavy he is on top of you, locking you beneath him. 

His hellish amusement is there and now you grunt out to the air.

“I allowed it,” you brag.

“Of course you did, you're just a horny stupid little thing, aren't you?” You get red from his words, but he doesn't relent, and he can sense you're starting to shake a little. “You'd let me do all the work.”

“You can't–”

“Can't what?” His hips grind against yours, both of you still clothed but craving, dying for the friction. “Can't what? You brought me here, wouldn't want to ruin the party for me, would you, little one? No…” He runs his mouth down the skin of your neck to your breasts, and his cold breath is making you shiver. “No, you have something to give me.” He almost orders. And you spread your leg a little wider in invitation, he pulls your dress up and his hands start kneading your ass.

Your teeth are gritted in response to his degrading words. But you just swallow your defenses, both of your dizzy drunken brains managing to make the situation much simpler as you just allow him to take control.

He is visibly excited for this, preparing you with his touching, delighting on your sounds and huffs of pleasure, “Are you okay? Is this okay?” he frowns a bit as he remembers, waiting patiently as you can read the underlying question: do you truly want this? Are you sober?

Your heart palpitates faster, your gaze is dazzled with wonder, noticeable for a while, as you stare into his questioning but patient eyes. You're okay, you know you are, but you're more than pleased to know he's a man of morals even when you can feel how horny he is, pulsing against the skin of your thighs.

Also, it's not very often that you see gods being morally correct. Or not just caring about themselves, if there's one thing you've been impressed with since the beginning, it's about how Loki, somehow, always cares for you, even when he pretends he doesn't.

“I'm ok, it's ok.” You consent, nodding a little, and wait a moment in silence. “Are you ok?”

He seems lost while gazing hungrily at your body, his mouth open as he unconsciously unleashes his breathing. Grasping you a bit too hard around your hips, he looks into your eyes again. “Yes, yes I am.”

It's the last thing you hear before he dives between your thighs, looking feral as he admires your glistening pussy, he silently wonders if he's been bewitched, for he felt starved from your delicious cunt and it's only been an hour —if he still remembers properly. But damn it now, he doesn't care about anything else but you and your scent, poisoning his system.

He curses a Nordic profounity, “Fuck, fuck. Demoness, you're killing me now, I'm sure of it. You're poisoning me,” he states and you push him to eat you out, forcing his words to an end as you smile up to the ceiling so adoringly, feeling his skilled tongue pleasing you.

“I wouldn't kill you,” You breathe out shaking. Soon you wouldn't be able to even feel your legs as they're numbing from overstimulation, your body recalling the early hours of the party. You moan loudly as you jolt from the thought and from Loki's tongue hitting your sweet spot.

When he pulls out, there's your essence tainting his lips, you curse out to all the princes of Hell. They could be damned now, you'd let this god do anything to you, if kept looking at you like you carry the whole world, eating you out like you're the best thing his lips ever tasted.

Loki keeps your thighs well spread out for him, giving a kiss to your stomach, and your heart waves at the soft touch. That was so cute, to you. He keeps kissing and licking the area, giving small bites at times when noticed you got too ticklish, or squirmed more under his touch.

When his body went up his kisses came too, and you felt the head of his cock move up and down to drown in your juices, coming close to your clit just to tease and moving down, slowly again.

“L-Loki,” You wave, quivering under his ferocious gaze. He licked his lips as he watched you like you're his last meal. His hand lands on your lower back. ”Please,” you gulp dumbly as you watch him. “Just fuck me.”

“Ask nicely.” He teases more, his hand close to holding you down by your neck. You whimper as you feel the head of his cock entering you, he takes a deep breath to keep his ground as he awaits your begging. Almost unable to contain himself, his jaw clenched and hands twitching, hurting your skin but you don't mind.

You force yourself to swallow your pride. Rolling your eyes a bit too harshly before feeling him pulling out and entering more of his cock into your sensitive cunt, you're unused to the size and your walls are stretched with a tad discomfort. He chuckles.

“Do you feel pain, little slut? Who would've thought, a dirty demon like you.” He cruelly mentions your visible, slight discomfort. Mocking. 

You tilt your head to him, clenched jaw but pleading eyes still wanting to feel more of him despite the pain, the need to feel him deep inside you needing to be scratched.

“Please,” you keep going, jaw still clenched, you can pinpoint submissiveness to the alcohol, later. For now, you want him, all of him. “Please, please, please. Give me your cock.” Your hands clench around his shoulders as you bring him closer, he grants you your wish.

Your knees have given out and you feel helpless for the first time in so long, your whole body was pinned against him as he speared into you with such a furious intensity, getting so deep you gasped in utter surprise. His hands around your neck and a whispered sign down your earlobe to “Keep begging me,” and you're at a loss, babbling the sound of his name and the word 'please'.

He reaches around to touch your clit, matching his unforgiving pace, picking up his speed as he groans feeling you clench around him so deliciously. Small yelps left your throat with each of his harsh thrusts, you're a mess as your back arches closer to his chest.

His hand moves to hold your back carefully as he keeps heavily grunting onto your ear, his breathing deep and low voice demanding of your pleasure. He harshly grasps your skin with his nails, you scratch his back together from all the pressure hitting your sensitive cunt.

As he massages your clit, it makes you jolt under his touch with each stroke. His thrusts becoming more and more animalistic, brutal, he rams into you, your whole body is shaking roughly with his brutish pounding.

You can barely hear your own moaning as Loki fills all of your senses, he is everything you touch and his growls and grunts are all you hear. You two fill the quiet room with the sound of sex and moaning.

“Look at you,” he gloats. “You were so insistent upon not looking inferior, now you tremble beneath me.” He gives a slow, harsh thrust, to emphasize his point, your eyes roll and your mouth opens, almost drooling. “Pray to me.” 

His words come out rough and too low timbre. your whole body shivers and your core tightens, burning from his words alone, he gets so fast-paced with his pounding you can't even catch a breath.

“W-w-wh-what?” You ask among his savage rhythm. Your mouth is in the shape of an 'O' as he pulls out only to slip even further inside you, if that's possible.

“You heard me,” He messily moves his hand from your back to pull your hair. It makes you remember the other time, when he refused to sleep with you. You give him a shameless, taunting smile. 

He yanks your hair locking eyes with you, a deep moan escapes your lips in response. “Pray to me. Pray, and this God might save your devious soul. I'm the only God you have to think of.”

Little does he know, —although he should — but you don't have a soul to be saved. It's not like you're going to correct him now. 

Your head moves back and forth mixing with his body smashing against your flesh, you don't fear the dizziness that'll install later, his fucking making you completely mindless.

You gulp and sob out, your brain struggling to remember how to speak through the fogginess of pleasure.

“In-In- nomine Patris, et- Filii, et Spiritus Sancti,” you start, broken Latin as you fight to remember what the prayers are—those that make your skin burn with their Grace— his punishing pounding getting worse and more frantic as your praying comes to life.

“T-t-tu es qu-qui jaces in-in-in Coelis, gratia plena,” your voice is trembling, fighting to keep the tone alive. You sob your tears from the sensitivity blinding your sight through the sinful act. The blasphemy drowning you, filling the pits of your stomach. “i-in omnibus nobis omnia praesens, omnium salvator.” You spit out the end, locking eyes with him.

“Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra–” You trip over your words as he starts sucking and biting your neck.

He furiously rubs his hand against your clit. His voice strained to say the next words, his breaking point coming present as he pronounces all his Asgardian splendor.

“C-come, come now. Kom for meg, min lille djevel.” You scream and spasm around him, clutching all you can grab of him, wanting to feel as much as possible. You see stars as you cum around him, shaking, the squelching sound so sinful reaching your ears.

Loki growls near your jawline, his thrusts getting slack as he's closer to completion. He shudders, you feel his cock pulsing inside of you, filling you full with his warm cum.

Loki's breaths are labored as his thrusting slows down, riding his orgasm. When he pulls out, there's the trace of semen tainting your skin and trickling down your thighs.

You're panting heavily as he pulls you closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours, he leans forward to kiss you. You didn't even get to catch a breath as he changes your position and deepens the kiss.

You felt your body aching from the sex, your head was spinning from the damned alcohol you had last night. As much as it hurts to feel some pins and needles, you still had the new — horrifying—experience to feel human.

You don't know how you feel about that. 

Lifting yourself as quickly as possible to hurry to the bathroom, as you feel nauseated, you suddenly remember your conditions and physically recoil from agony and disgust of yourself.

Throwing up? You've allowed yourself to throw up? Especially in front of your 'brother'? At a party filled with humans?

Outrageous, gross. You want to kill your human form and remove the skin to stop from feeling so dirty and humane. But all you can express outloud is a sincere grunt of annoyance, grabbing the skin of your stomach.

It takes some time, you arrive at the bathroom and contain your vomiting, using your magic to stop the sickness and the lightheadedness, throwing up now would make you simply refuse to exist. 

It takes time for you to notice Loki's not in the room.

You take a look at the place, analyzing every detail you didn't notice before. And hurry to get out of there and find Loki.

You end up bumping into him as you walk out of that strange room, he looks you up and down, his mind rushes through the thoughts of your well-being, then he seems to put himself together. Clearing his throat.

His mind rushed through a series of nightmares he had last night, but they came to you as a bunch of blurred images. 

The last time he had nightmares, he thought it was your fault, but after spending the night feeding off your delectable supernatural body he wondered how he could have such torturous, painful nightmares. Especially after such a long time since he had the company of anyone in his sleep.

It hit him like a plague, and ruined his mood, apparently that would never leave him.

“Morning.” Insouciant, why would that be?

“Good morning!” You exclaim, merry to see him. He looks confused. “Where were you going? I didn't see you. I'm pretty sure you still slept in the same bed as me last night.”

“That's none of your business.” Once again, you're facing the mean kitty. You sighed.

“You were much easier to deal with last night. You were very touchy, if I can say.” You remember him and all the clear touching you shared at the party and at the end of it.

“Look, just because I fucked you doesn't mean I feel anything for you, so you should stop looking for me.” He looked very serious as he said this, you suddenly feel so much of a feeling you've never felt before. Like cold water has just been poured down your good mood. A foreign feeling pounding into your chest.

Shame.

And he continues.

“It was a wonderful fuck, and I'd love to do it again, even though you're insufferable and… surprisingly weak for a being such as a demon, it makes me a bit disappointed, I expected more a bit more.” He tilts his head arrogantly as he dares to put you down.

You weren't expecting to feel such a weird pang in your heart from his words, it's not sadness, but anger instead. Your face fell and you closed your fist around your chest. 

“I've only never left because you never truly wanted me to go away,” you give him a fake smile, your eyes burning, denying the tears. “You may say whatever you want, but you know you've always been alone and the one that's never picked. The last option, the second, unwanted child, I know. Always the shadow of another, you delight yourself upon the attention I give you.” You close your mouth but look very sour, wanting to hurt him.

“I could say the same of you,” He says through gritted teeth and clenched jaw. Pointing towards you in spite. “Your 'brother' made you throw up last night, who are you to say you're not also unwanted? Is that the main reason you seek attention from me? Because you crave it? Or is it because you can't let me go? You've said it yourself, demon, your attraction to my powers, to my magic, to me. It doesn't make you want to go away, so what do you have to say? Your infatuation makes you weak and predictable. I've said this from the start, you're the one that's been too fucked dumb until you forgot this fact.” He spits it all out, looking down at you, his eyes looking so sharp like knives.

“You know nothing about me.” You say coldly, breaking your charismatic endeavor.

“You've shown me your cards a long time ago, little demon. I know how you work,” He's too proud, you burn with rage. “I could use your body like my personal sex toy and you wouldn't even deny me, would you? Having my personal demon slave to break until you cry, that's how emotional you are, you'd probably just break down to pieces. Are you having fun with the humans? Are they making you as pathetic as they are? Do you want to save the world with them, do you think any sensible human on this planet would consider you a hero?” His voice trembles as he says the last sentence. 

The next noise that the room echoes is a sudden snap, Loki's face red, burning from the mark of your violence. You slapped him. 

Your gaze is distant as you watch his surprised eyes burning with agitation from having startled you. You're suddenly filled with anger to a point you start hitting his chest.

He can prevent all the attacks, and he doesn't take it seriously, you'd probably scare a mortal but Loki's way too egotistical now, all your early compliments of his powers feeding into his image of being superior, mistakenly thinking he's superior to you.

And over all of this, he's convinced he hates you. He can feel the scratches stinging and marking their presence on his pale arms as you tried to attack with your bare hands.

He loses composure and falls with you on top of him, your hands squeeze his arms harshly, craving your nail into his skin, purposefully strong enough and wanting to make it bleed. It pleased you. 

He leaves a hiss as he locks your hands again, but he can still feel the scratching and gripping and hitting throughout other parts of his body.

“How are you doing this?!” He exclaims feeling the punches still hit him as he holds down your fists.

It's comparable to a ghostly touch, it's aggressive, freezing and scorching at the same time, you were all like the demon you're supposed to be. Exposing the anger and the punishment against his skin being the victim.

“You're only scared because you know I hold the truth.” He says.

“You can't offend me, Laufeyson. I only give you what you deserve,” You spit on him, and he backs off, leaving your hands free as you get angrier on top. “You can't, I know every one of your sins, I know your fears.”

“You don't know what I am,” he said sadly, trying to keep a stable look. “You don't.”

“I know you're the spoiled child here, not me.” You say, “You act like you're so tortured but you've had everything in life and you're nothing but a spoiled little prince that deserves nothing but cruelty, so you'll know how others feel.” You look into his eyes as you're wishing to hurt him. “Maybe I should punish you myself,” you sound a bit too serious, as if another play-pretend is coming to an end, a bit too out of your mind. “What do you think? Should I? Should I make your life a living hell? Should I make you pay for the souls you've killed? I promise it's more than some hundred people the Avenger's data claim to be. Come on, Loki!” You scream at his face, still straddling him, his hands shaking now but unmoving to push you off.

“Come on, Loki!” You continue, “Think of the parents, their children, growing up alone after you killed them, the families ruined. Should I make you suffer for them all?”

He looks sad now, you could see the tears silently showing on the corners of his eyes. You couldn't stop, you don't feel guilt, it doesn't come with your nature. 

“You wouldn't dare. Even if I deserve it, you wouldn't punish me.” He coldly says, trying to snap against you, he's surprised he can't do it this time.

You close your mouth and give him a furious look, you know you shouldn't speak now, you don't want him to know too much about you. You can't, so you lie.

“You're right,” you lie, too saccharine, coming too easily, you just have to look a bit defeated. He doesn't look like he believes you, ever so doubtful. “You're right, I said I wouldn't. I can't punish you.” 

He doesn't want to think about your trustworthiness, nor about his arguments. He closes the distance between the two of you, right out of the foreign room, out there in the hallway. 

In contrast to the night before, now his touch only shows his anger and shame instead of any passion.

He doesn't want you to feel anything other than his hatred and fury, he's angry, all too angry at your words. At your daring to look innocent and bubbly, at your fake pretend act, at your secrets, at your constant clinginess, at your touches. At you. He's angry at you, he's quickly convinced he hates you and that you're messing with his mind to make you seem like a good person.

He growls against the inside of your mouth as he seeks forward your open shirt, grabbing the skin with the equal pressure of wishing to make it bleed too, he cupped the back of your head and brought you close as he brutally bites your lower lip. 

“Ow, you fuck–” You complain, feeling it bleed, lifting your hand instinctively to touch the wound, he grabs your hand and keeps it down in place. Using his seidr to remove his pants and all of your clothes, the top of his asgardian leather vest prodding your bare stomach, you look around the hallway, scared someone will pass by. “The cameras. Someone might–”

“I'm tired of your feigned innocence.” He angrily silences you, he puts his hand to cover your mouth and your mumbles stuffle around his palms. “Let them see. Let them watch.” He rolls his hips roughly to your pelvic arch, pumping his cock to prepare and grunting out to the Heavens as he slides it into your already dripping hole. 

You didn't want to confess how much the possibility of any strangers watching enticed you. “Let them see who brings the demon to her knees.” You bite his hand harshly and he hisses, grabbing your chin violently and squeezing, feeling your dental arch under the skin of your face. Your lips plump bright from his harsh kissing.

“Fuck, no–” You squeak out, not meaning it, but he still hesitates, until you glance at him and nod again, more frenetically, trying to get him to move as you babble meaningless denials. He keeps his thrusting, going harder and harder, making you grip his hips to steady. Afraid someone will hear the noise of your flesh hitting together ferociously. “Oh, OH!” You scream out.

“I want to devour you, you cruel thing.” He tightens his grip on your chin while pistoning your poor cunt. “I want to eat you up, you're a little bug compared to me. Tiny little useless little bitch.” He keeps his punishing pace. “This is the punishment you'll receive, tell me, do you like it? Am I being fair? It's an honorable punishment, being my little cumslut, I'll make you my little cum dumpster,” his eyes sparkled as he said the term to refer to you. “I'll fill you up and you won't be able to move, feeling me right here with your every step, feeling the stickiness that'll mark you as mine, so you'll forget your bratty behavior.” He puts his hand to rest on your womb, and you moan loudly, locking eyes with the tiny, almost unnoticeable, camera. Not knowing if it's on or not, either way, you're likely giving a whole performance.

“Ah! Oh, no,” you feel your eyes sting with tears as you're pinned down, against the cold floor. Your legs give out whilst they also tremble with every hit of his skin against yours. 

He pulls out quickly and turns you around, now your mouth is fighting to stay far from the ground. He yanks your hair as he pushes your entire face towards the floor, arching your lower back, presenting yourself to him. He kicks your legs open to hurriedly shove his throbbing, aching cock, inside of you again.

The manhandling got you shaking for him, his thrusting forceful as your face dizzily scratched in contact with the harsh freezing floor of the hallway. He's pounding into you as if to convince himself of his lack of care for you. 

Reaching his fingers around you to eagerly touch your clit, wishing for your constricting walls to suffocate his cock, to unknowingly pull him in deeper so he could flood your insides with his seed.

He wanted to make the devil tremble beneath him every single time, to feel your knees weak for him, he feared he was addicted. Your body invites him with such warmth, to paint your walls white with his cum.

When he feels you jolting harshly, he growls and his hips snap strongly to guide you through your orgasm, not relenting in his pace. You felt yourself getting too overstimulated as you moaned very soft whines and pushed your hands weakly against his chest. 

He kept a vicious pace until his thrusting began getting uneven as he grunts out loudly, pushing your skin as he fills your abused cunt with loads of his cum.

Both of you lay out of breath on the floor, trying to recover a balanced breathing pattern, his marvelous hand still grasping your skin as strong as he could, instinctively.

Once you both recover, he moves his fingers to magically redress himself. Keeping you dumbly watching him, even as he lifts off of your body, he doesn't make a move to dress you.

“You're such a dick.” You spit out the words, looking around to check where your clothes are, before remembering he magicked them off.

“I could help you, of course,” He pretends to think of something. “But I'll only do so, if you tell me what's the deal with the angel.” He brings the topic out of the blue.

“I don't need your help!” You exclaim angrily, getting up naked. “You don't scare me, Loki.” You give him a stern look.

“I should. You should be scared of me. And you don't look half as terrifying as you think you do, while you're naked.”

You ignore the teasing and focus on the way he's trying to intimidate you. “You're just a god. I've seen millions of them.” 

“Which only fuels my curiosity, can I even know how old you are?”

You grunt out and physically hesitate, you despise going anywhere near personal talk. You make new clothes magically reappear.

“I could get you naked in a snap of my fingers if you don't answer me.” He smirks, glancing down at your body.

“I think you forget I'm more powerful than you.” You state still denying him attention.

“I should probably wait for a team meeting, so I could make everyone see how much of a beauty you are.” 

“They probably already know.” You glance at the camera, that's not speckling any light to sign its functioning. “Or maybe not, either way, I could get you naked in a second too.” You dared.

“Oh, I hope you do.” He grabs your waist and presses both of his hands down your stomach.

“In the middle of the hallway?!” Stark insults, accompanied by a frantic Steve by his side.

“We should create a rule of no sex around the tower.”

“Everybody would lose within a week, dumbass, only you wouldn't.” Stark pats his chest, you get yourself out of Loki's grip. “We all saw what you two did last night on the table, your luck is that a lot of people do the same in these parties. Just don't do it very…often.” He refuses to look at you two.

You don't answer him and just walk away, reaching another huge area. Most of the spaces resemble the living room for resting, that's close to the meeting room. It's not really your fault for not knowing the places or their purposes yet.

“Don't you want to go down to the training room?” Steve asks you, walking in with you. “It'll be useful, it's what we usually do around these hours. And you'll probably need to do it one time or another.”

“I'll think about it–” You end up bumping someone as you were staring at Rogers. 

“Where are your manners?” Inquiries the being, the great Symbol of Heaven. “Honestly, sister, you've been falling off your feet a lot since the party.”

“Don't call me that.” 

“Do you have something against him?” Stark asks, a bit rhetorically, as he can already sense the answer.

Loki arrogantly tilts his head now that he knows it'll be difficult for you to walk away.

“Of course I have, I don't want to be near him.” You say.

“You don't have to.” The Angel responds.

“Have you people just adopted him now?” Loki asks the two headmasters of the group, and they both look at each other. 

“Firstly, we don't "adopt"–” Stark got interrupted mid his sentence, as the angel presented himself.

“I am the Angel Ediel.” His words give a glimpse in space, and time, and everyone questions their sanity for a second, they could swear they saw something changing. Ediel is as bright as the sun when he grins at his sister.

“Did you guys see that?” Asks Thor as he walks through the door.

“See what?” You question, not knowing what he's talking about.

“I- the thing̛̱͙̟̪̣̠̓̒͑̽–” Thor looks around, then something stops while they're all still looking at the angel.

Until everything stops, Thor enters the room again and repeats the same question. 

“Did you guys see that?” The god asks.

“See what?” You question him.

“I don't remember…” Thor looks down, confused, a finger on his chin as he wonders. They all look at each other now and Tony points at you.

“Just don't kill each other while you're here, he may be good for us, it's always safe to be in the presence of an angel.”

“I actually feel much safer indeed.” Steve expresses and you roll your eyes. Loki knew you had nowhere to hide now.

“Why do you hate him?” Loki asks you.

“Don't you also hate your brother? I have my reasons.” You snap and try to run away once more, until Tony gets ahold of your arm. 

“Calm down now hocus pocus, what is it that you have to say? We have the right to know, what if it's something dangerous?”

“Why is everyone so stuck in this? I have the right to not say anything if I don't want to.”

“I don't see what's wrong either,” Ediel says, defending you. “My sister should feel free to walk away just as she wants to.”

“He seems nice. Just a bit off-putting.” Thor brings up watching the other blond.

“Now you know what you're like.” Loki bickers with Thor. And they share a look close to a childlike war.

“Ediel is a fallen angel,” You tell the group with a quiet tone, wanting nothing more than to go away. “Anything—anyone, that falls out of Heaven must be an evil entity, a fraud, a sinner–”

“If that were true, that'd appeal to you,” Ediel says. “This is everything demons admire. If the accusations were truthful, you'd have no reason to hate me.” The avengers could sense how little you felt close to the golden angel.

“They don't know you. They don't know us. Stay out of my way.” You point to your brother and walk out.

“Do you want to explain the whole 'sister' thing?” Loki casually brings up the topic as Ediel keeps a watch on your way out. “She doesn't seem to cooperate, so who knows, you might actually be useful.” He says to the angel.

Ediel feels bashful before speaking, “It's actually fairly simple,” he says your name and proceeds to talk about you. “She is related to Satan himself, raised by Him, and unfortunately so am I, now.” He says feeling his heart ache with shame.

“However that's not a reason for any of you to hate me, or mistrust me,” he quickly explains as their eyes wander around. “I stay in a different position, I'm never in Hell and I've never been close to it, I stay on the surface nearby Earth. I'm more of an actual fallen angel, I'm a guardian, a protector. A savior.”

Loki rolls his eyes in annoyance, “That's what your sister claimed too, when I first met her. I've heard enough.” He tells them and moves somewhere else too, Thor follows him with a sheepish expression.

“I am a being created by God,” Ediel says to the others. “He loves me, as he does to you all, but unfortunately I'm too close to Satan here. Too close, unfortunately, to be mistaken with a demon. I'm just grateful to know my truth, and I'll keep my guard upon us, against the evil that is the demon that inhabits here.”

Everyone looks convinced that this angel won't go away. But Tony needed to state some things.

“Right, cherub, we don't need help. Demoness is not a terrifying or evil entity, she's been cooperating, and at the exact moment she decides to misbehave, the authorities–” Tony gives a dramatic pause to make sure his point comes across. “will deal with her. Earth authorities, the law. We're not afraid of your evil little friend. You can stay calm.”

“It's still an obligation that I have to stay present and keep a watch.” 

“That makes me quite uncomfortable,” Steve says. “What do you mean by keeping a watch?”

“Nothing frightful, human, I promise you. I'll stay here to ensure everyone's safety, and I'll make sure to be a good spirit to all, I'm the bringer of God's words and great spirit.” He gives everyone a bright smile again.

Translations: In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti = In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Tu es qui jaces in Coelis, gratia plena =Thou who art lies in Heaven, full of Grace.

In omnibus nobis omnia praesens, omnium salvator = He is present to all of us, the savior of all.

Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in Terra = Thy kingdom come. Thy wish will be done, as it is in Heaven and on Earth.

Kom for meg, min lille djevel = Come for me, my little devil.

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