Avengers x reader

Poetry >> Loki x reader

A/N: The poem is His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell. The Video above is Tom HIddleston reading it.

    You drummed your fingers against the table as you waited impatiently for the poetry reading to begin. You loved the coffee and tea shop to pieces and normally you were a very chilled person when it came to delays, that seemed to happen at every reading, but this time was different from all the times before. This time you crush was reading something; something he said was for you. Your left leg jiggled like a little child's when they have to go pee, but you ceased the motion once your knee collided with the underside of the table. You checked your watch yet again and was about to get up and find the manager when he finally walked onto the stage.

"Hello everybody and welcome here is a regular to start us off." He announced and your shoulders drooped. You had hoped Loki would've been first so that the ever growing population of butterflies in your stomach could be killed before they decided to fly out your mouth. Still you were determined to beat your nerves and so you took a deep breath before leaning forward to rest your cheek in your hand and let yourself get swept away by the beauty of the poems. Well you tried to, but you had Loki on the brain and so far you had yet to find a cure. Your eyes roamed the dark café in search of Loki but you couldn't find his tall, lean frame anywhere.

"If he played me I will kill him." You hissed quietly to yourself. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered mercilessly as person after person stood up and read words from their heart. Anger seeped into your heart after the last person of the night stepped from the stage. With a frustrated huff through your nose you grabbed your bag and stormed from the café. You stopped for no man or woman as you exited the building. You reached your home with little sunlight to spare and as soon as you were through the door you let out a heart wrenching sigh. You threw your bag on the floor, kicked off your shoes and then flopped face down onto the couch.

"(Name)." A low and gentle voice whispered near your head as you felt the couch cushion dip down with added weight. You knew that voice as if it were your own, but you refused to answer seeing as you were quiet upset with him. So you pushed your face deeper into the cushion.

"You will suffocate if you do that." Loki stated as he smoothed down fly-aways on the back of your head. You loved the feel of his hand petting your hair and had to catch the whimper of protest that threatened to sneak out when he removed his hand.

"I'm sorry I didn't show up, but the poem took longer than I thought it would." You decided to lift your head up to meet his gaze, thankfully you hadn't cried a drop, and you silently lifted an eyebrow as a way to say 'well go on then'. Loki licked his lips and took a deep breath before he began reciting the words he had strung together just for you.

Had we but world enough, and time,

This coyness, Lady, were no crime.

We would sit down and think which way

To walk and pass our long love's day.

Thou by the Indian Ganges' side

Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide

Of Humber would complain.

I wouldLove you ten years before the Flood,

And you should, if you please, refuse

Till the conversion of the Jews.

My vegetable love should grow

Vaster than empires, and more slow;

An hundred years should go to praise

Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;

Two hundred to adore each breast;

But thirty thousand to the rest;

An age at least to every part,

And the last age should show your heart;

For, Lady, you deserve this state,

Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear

Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near;

And yonder all before us lie 

            Deserts of vast eternity.

Thy beauty shall no more be found,

Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound

My echoing song: then worms shall try

That long preserved virginity,

And your quaint honour turn to dust,

And into ashes all my lust:

The grave's a fine and private place,

But none, I think, do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue

Sits on thy skin like morning dew,

And while thy willing soul transpires

At every pore with instant fires,

Now let us sport us while we may,

And now, like amorous birds of prey,

Rather at once our time devour

Than languish in his slow-chapt power.

Let us roll all our strength and all

Our sweetness up into one ball,

And tear our pleasures with rough strife

Thorough the iron gates of life:

Thus, though we cannot make our sun

Stand still, yet we will make him run.

By the time he had finished your eyes were wide and your jaw was on the floor. You mouth opened and closed like a fish as you female hormones went into overload. You took deep breaths in attempt to get oxygen into your lungs so that your brain could receive blood, but it seemed no matter how much blood your brain got it just couldn't take that poem, Loki and Loki's voice all at one time.

"That was beautiful." You finally forced your voice to work as you stared lovingly up at him. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips but your view of his dashing grin was cut short when it was pressed against your lips. The position was a tad awkward because you were still lying on your stomach with your head forced as far back as it could go while Loki hunched over to try and ease the strain on your neck. He pulled away just long enough so that you could pull you to sit on his lap before he attacked your lips once again.