You see him sitting on a step, unmoving, a faraway look glazed in his bright celestial eyes. He's doing it again. You know he's in another dimension, talking to the leader who has promised him an army in exchange for the Tesseract. You watch as his sharp jaw clenches, frustration evident in his face as he tightly grips his scepter. There were things that had to be done, orders that needed to be followed, but curiosity got the best of you so you stay and watch the lone God, fascinated by the subtle expressions dancing across his pale features.
About a week ago, you were recruited to work in this undisclosed facility. You have no idea where you are and you most certainly are not allowed to leave. The only thing you know is that your team is working on using the Tesseract to open a portal to another world. You are also aware that everyone who works around you has a blue gleam in their eyes, hypnotized unwillingly from the scepters touch. That is everyone but you. Somehow you are overlooked or perhaps others thought you were already under the staff's power. You keep it this way, knowing that you could use this advantage to eventually escape the confines of this place.
Loki's head abruptly moves sideways, as if an invisible person had just pushed a hand into the side of his face. His trance broke and he was back into your reality, annoyance thinning his lips. You quickly dart behind a large shelf and hold your breath in hopes that you were not noticed. You shouldn't be here watching the God. What you just witnessed was a private session but there is no way for you to escape the room without drawing attention to yourself, so you pause and wait for him to leave. Eventually you hear movement. A door slams shut and you let out a breath in relief. You stretch out your back and walk around the shelf to get to the door that's on the other side of the room.
He's there, standing right around the corner, glaring down at you in awful contempt. Adrenaline explodes throughout your nerves, seizing up your muscles. He looks pissed.
"What are you doing here?" Loki leers, taking a step closer to your body. You could smell the mixture of metal and leather radiating off his clothes, dizzying your already jumbled thoughts.
"I-I was carrying out an order from Agent Barton, Sir." You stutter out. This was half true, he asked you to bring him lunch while he worked on searching for someone who owns a rare metal called Iridium. With it they would be able to stabilize the Tesseract and move onto the next stage.
"Was that all you were doing?" He asks, a pleasurable look tugging at his face as he notices your cowering posture. An involuntary gulp resounds in your throat as you desperately hope that your freedom of thought stays hidden to him. You cast a nervous glance at his scepter.
"Yes."
Loki's hand flies to your throat, pinning your body to the shelf behind you, the rows of metal pushing painfully into your spine.
"I am the God of lies." His eye lids squint slightly as he looks you slowly up and down. "Speak again, in truth."
It's hard to speak behind his tightening grip but you manage to get out the words.
"I was watching you, I am terribly sorry, I-I couldn't stop."
His fingers loosen; breath comes rushing back into your lungs.
"Do you find me interesting little Mortal?" He inquires. You make note of the way he called you "Mortal", a discrete reminder that he could snap your body if he wanted to.
You are conflicted by his question, unknowing what would be appropriate to say to the Asgardian, "I don't know what to say." You finally get out.
Loki shoots you a smirk, "Wrong answer."
He easily pivots you around and pushes your back into his chest. A long fingered hand is still pressing into the skin of your throat. You can feel his ebony hair tickle the side of your face as his cool breath sends wisps of air past your ear. The closeness of his body makes you heat in uncanny desire, especially with the realization that his crouch is pressing lightly into your ass. You lean slightly back to increase the pressure, aware that you might as well being playing a dangerous game with a cobra. His other hand comes up and pushed the hair away from your ear so he can lean in close, close enough to nibble on your lobe if he wanted to. You shudder in anticipation.
