Loki Laufeyson
A/N: Dying to roleplay.
You were the least enthused to be sitting in a circle, watching a bowl full of names be passed around the group. Well, perhaps the only other person less excited about this arrangement than you was Loki, but he was also the reason you were unhappy. If he wasn't playing the stupid game, you'd be able to forget about the fight and enjoy some closet time with someone else (purely for ensuring jealousy from the god, of course). But seeing as he was sitting across from you, all you wanted to do was curl up on your couch and hide.
"Reindeer's turn," Tony stated, holding the silver bowl full of torn paper scraps in front of the black-haired man's face. Loki grumbled to himself as his slender fingers jostled the mix of names, closing his eyes as he pulled a scrap out to hand to the billionaire.
"Alright, in you go," Tony instructed, pushing the god down the hall towards the closet.
He had decided to put a twist on the game - once you drew a name from the bowl, you were sent to the closet by yourself, not knowing which name you drew until the other person joined you.
When he was safely locked away, Tony turned to you with a half frown. "You're up, (nickname)." He displayed the unfolded piece of paper on which your name was scribbled. With a sigh, you rose from your seat and shuffled down the hall.
The hall and closet were equally dark as to add to the mystery of the game. You slipped inside quietly, closing the door behind you.
"Which unlucky mortal did I unknowingly choose as my game partner?" Loki inquired, a bored tone in his voice.
"The one who doesn't understand you," you replied bitterly. He sighed sharply. You knew he felt bad for the fight.
You had been dating the god for several months when your first fight erupted. It had been about his heritage - his Jotun heritage. You told him that you accepted who he was no matter what, and that Odin's opinion was unimportant. He'd argued that you didn't know what it was like to live in someone else's shadow, and that you didn't understand who he was or how he felt.
The night had ended with screaming from both of you and crying on your part before you had stormed out of his apartment, slamming the door behind you.
That was weeks ago, and you hadn't spoken since. What were the chances that he would draw your name and the two of you would be forced together now?
He sighed again. "I'm sorry, (y/n)."
You raised a brow. Loki was apologizing?
"Sorry for what?" you murmured. "You were right. I don't understand. I'm just a pathetic mortal who's fallen hopelessly in love with you. I have no idea how you're feeling."
The bitterness in your words hurt, and knowing he put that tone in your voice felt like a knife through his heart.
"I didn't mean that," he replied softly. "I didn't mean any of it. I was angry and hurt and not used to someone caring so truly for me. Queen Frigga cared, but not in the way you do. It... It scared me. So I pushed it away."
"I tried pushing back," you reminded him. "But I didn't think you wanted me to anymore. I thought you wanted me gone."
"No, darling," he replied quickly, and you could hear his steps shuffling to get closer to you. "Not at all. I want you close, always. I value your opinion of me more than anything else. But I was being ignorant and stupid, and I didn't see how important you were until it was too late."
Cool hands gently grasped your cheeks. A forehead pressed against yours, and you let out a sigh st the familiarity. Loki tilted your head up, his lips ghosting over yours. You could feel his hot breath on your lips. You stood on your toes and closed the distance, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hesitation melted away, his arms securing around your waist. Your lips molded perfectly against his, like jigsaw pieces being placed together. His hands slid down to your thighs, gripping you enough to lift you from the ground. He pinned you to the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him as close as he could get.
His kisses were hot but respectful, as though he were pouring his emotions into every press of his lips. He nipped at your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth, then kissing it again like an apology. You had one hand fisted in his shirt, the other tangling in his hair. He kept one hand on your hip, the other sliding up and down your side.
"Am I forgiven?" he whispered, pulling back just long enough to gauge your reaction.
You panted softly in response. "No more fights?"
He nodded quickly. "No more fights."
"Then yes." He could hear the smile in your voice and he grinned, kissing you again. His thin lips trailed down your jaw, tracing your skin like it was brand new to his touch. He continued down your neck, reveling in the gasps and whimpers he drew from your mouth. He found your weak spot where your neck joined your shoulder and he bit down ever so gently, just enough to send a shock through your body. Your bit your lip to stifle a moan, tugging at the raven locks you had twisted in your fingers.
"How I've missed you," he murmured, burying his face in your neck.
"Me or my body?" you questioned, half joking. He lifted his head to press his forehead against yours. You could feel more than see his eyes gazing into yours.
"All of you," he murmured. "Your smile. Your laugh. The way you dance when you're excited. The way you bite your lip when you're thinking. The clothes you wear to do housework. The clothes you wear when you're trying to seduce me..."
He kissed you lovingly, full of emotion and sincerity. It was truly and completely Loki, and he was all yours.
*of course Loki is open for a smutty sequel.
