Life with Loki - short stories

With Brute Love

Summary: Loki very much has a soft spot for you. So soft, that sometimes a protective beast emerges.
Rating: Explicit
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Note: Part II of the surprise! This was a request from a Patreon follower — if you have a request, that is where you can ask me. Much love to you all! And remember to love yourself first xxx
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Tolerance was not strong within him, not when it came to you. Tolerant he had been of bouts of torture that felt endless, but when it came to someone even speaking of you in a manner that was anything but praiseful and graceful, his tolerance would evaporate instantly. Rogers had once learnt the hard way, when daring to raise the volume of his voice back to you during a rather passionate conversation you were both having over a mission strategy. Loki snarled his name, warning him to watch his rising tone, but as the captain ignored the lurking, baited, God of Mischief, something else took over him, literally: his other form. You see, rather ironically, Loki was similar to Bruce in a way. When calmness was overridden, Hulk appeared... as did Brute Loki. Everyone knew he had that form, it was no surprise, but Loki found it harder to calm his brutish side— only you could do that. The simple sound of his name from your lips would pull him back from the barbarian trance he would plunge into. You were his good friend, nothing more, yet some were convinced that that couldn't be, due to how protective and caring he was over you. But he just was. If anyone dared to even look at you in the wrong way, he would be fighting his brute form from rising. So, the captain had found out the hard way that day, and now, a couple of young SHEILD Agents were about to learn the same lesson.

The three youngish lads had just come from the training room where you had been teaching a lesson on knife skills in combat. The Agents were making their way down the corridor when Loki passed them, unfortunately hearing part of their conversation. Unbeknownst why to you, an alarm sounded as Jarvis requested your urgent presence to a hallway not far from the training rooms. That question was answered for you when you got there, seeing nearly every Avenger and Agent available, surrounding —and or running— from the over eight- feet- tall, horned Brute Loki, while he was smashing one of the Agents you had just been lecturing, against the wall. Thor yelled your name, asking you to try calm his brother down, while Steve and Tony began telling everyone to get back.

"Loki". He was so big, his large, yellow, body ripped with muscle, but you weren't scared of him, not in this form or any other. Instantly, upon hearing your voice, those angered muscles of his stilled. He turned to look at you. His darkened eyes softened instantly while watching you approach him. "I don't know what he did, but please stop", you spoke gently as your palms came to rest upon his lowered hand, the one that wasn't tightened around the Agent who was starting to purple due to the lack of air that Loki's large fist was keeping from him.

"Spoke things about body! Vile!", he growled as he looked down upon you. It always took you by surprise when he was in his brute form, his usual eloquent words of poetry would change to become, well... brutish, really.

"Yes, well, I'm sure he won't be saying such things again". You laughed slightly as you connected your hand to his. You always thought of your hands as bigger for a female, but when seeing them in his brute hands, which were near double the sizing of yours, you no longer had that insecurity over your own. He began calming as you skin rested upon his, and as your eyes stayed connected to his. "How about you drop Michael, and we can have a chat elsewhere, ok?". Every Agent that surrounded you had their guns pointed and loaded, ready to take down the Brute if he were to not soothe to you, but he would, and he did. Just like always. Loki dropped the bloodied and remorseful Michael on the ground, before he picked you up and sat you on his shoulder and began stomping away. You felt like Fay Wray as you sat up there, safe from the world. Despite your larger body —which you truly did love and accept— you felt incredibly small in comparison to your friend. You held on to one of his golden horns that grew out from his head, to support your balance as he walked towards your floor. Upon arrival to your rooms, he moved you back to the ground so you could open the door. He moved you with such ease, but you always gave a little yelp as he moved you so easily, so swiftly, with bare effort, as if you were a feather. He sat down upon your sofa, that you had now reinforced after the first time he had sat upon it whilst in his brute form. You were now face to face with him, and you could see a slither of remorse across his beautiful, sun coloured face.