She hadn't seen him for days, though looking back it wasn't all that uncommon. Loki was a true cat by nature. He came and went where he wished, when he wished, and Natasha would've been stupid to think that anything she did could tame him or make him change his nature. Honestly? She didn't want to think about trying to change him, because it was simply who he was and she enjoyed that most of the time.
But a week? A week was a tad excessive. It was only after the seven days and nights passed that she went looking for him, wondering where it would've been that he turned up if not in Stark's tower. She could only assume that he'd turn back up on Midgard as there wasn't much else left for him on the other realms, and she refused to acknowledge that something had happened to him. There would've been a far bigger calamity about it, Thor would have somehow known or else they'd have gotten notice of it from the gloating victorious party, and so the silence regarding Loki only confirmed, in Natasha's mind, that he was fine. Still, it didn't stop her from searching for him.
Two days and three and a half hours later she found herself at her small flat in the middle of Brooklyn, one that not even SHIELD had on file. It was a last chance, Loki having been missing from all the others that he knew about, and something about her it hinted that he wouldn't be there either. Hell, she wasn't even sure he knew about it. She dipped her head quickly to the man at the front desk, who hardly looked as though he noticed her even as he buzzed her through to get to the upper levels, and she was grateful for having the knock off serum to keep her from panting as she made her way up seven flights of stairs. The air seemed to get cooler the higher she got, strange as that was, and she chalked it up to the landlord finally getting the hint that air conditioning was a must for a New York summer, especially in the city where rent was already ridiculous.
The door to her apartment was locked, and even as she turned the key to pull back the deadbolt it stuck, unwilling to give.
"Natasha?"
Her heart nearly jumped from her chest at the sound of Loki's voice on the other side of the door. How the hell had he . . . she supposed it wouldn't do for her to be surprised because honestly he was a trickster god, but it didn't stop her from putting her hand to her heart and taking a deep, calming breath.
"Loki. I've been looking for you, when did you get here?"
"Three days ago." He admitted, and something in his voice seemed wrong. Off ever so slightly, as though it was a deeper growl than before. Odd.
"And you didn't come see me?" She asked, arching a brow. He'd said that he'd always return to her so she wouldn't have to worry, and though it'd initially been something that'd made him feel better, feel needed, she came to rely on it after the first few times. Bastard probably had that planned all along.
"Natasha I'm not in the mood to see anyone at the moment," he said, voice curt and cutting her to the quick, putting her back onto the defensive. What the hell had happened while he'd been away to make him like that? She bit her lip, considering it. He'd said it would just be a routine visit with a friend of his, Amora, and that she didn't have to worry. So what had gotten him so uptight?
"Are you hurt?" She asked, keeping her voice level. If he wanted to play the emotionally unattached man, then she'd counter it.
"No."
"Did you get blood anywhere?"
"No."
"It is my apartment, Loki."
"I do not wish you to see me."
"So do something about it."
She'd been joking, well, half joking at least, but the silence that followed her words meant he'd taken it seriously.
"Not this time. Give me another week then come see me. Please." There was the soft sound of fingers placed on the wood of the door, scraping down the side as though he was imagining her standing in front of him, the way he usually ran his fingers down the side of her face when he needed her to listen to what he was saying. She could feel the phantom trace of his fingertips over her cheek and let out a sigh.
"Fine. One week, then I'm coming in no matter what."
The time passed, and Natasha had a mission that kept her past what she'd anticipated, keeping her for an extra ten or so days atop the seven she'd already promised him, including time spent in the infirmary getting better. Still he hadn't left her apartment from what she'd been able to tell, hadn't visited her as she recovered quickly from the few GSWs and the two cracked ribs courtesy of falling several stories out of a burning building.
Her curiosity was getting the better of her, half of her wondering just what it was he was hiding so adamantly that he didn't even let her enter her own freaking apartment. This, combined with her own worry that he'd actually gotten himself hurt-or worse, but she didn't let herself think of that-fueled her climb back up the stairs to her apartment, her knuckles rapping on the edge of the door.
"What took you so long?" Loki asked, sounding half desperate and half pleading. Not a sound she was used to hearing from him. Interesting.
"I had a mission. Took me longer than I meant it to. Lemme in, Loki. I want to see you."
A pause, then another heavy sigh. "No. You can't."
"Excuse me?" Her voice came out a growl. She hadn't just hauled her ass out of the med bay, across town, and up seven fucking flights of stairs to be told no, she couldn't enter her own damn apartment, not by some snot-nosed, jumped up little princeling. She opened her mouth, about to tell him exactly where he could go stick his refusal, when he cut her off. "You can't see me. But you can come in."
Oh. Intriguing.
"Alright. I'll play. You're sure you're alright?" Natasha asked, unable to help herself. Knee-jerk reaction, she supposed. He had been gone for an awfully long time, and was acting all the stranger since it.
"I'm not injured, Natasha." he sounded the slightest bit exasperated, but pleased all the same that she was showing concern. When would he get it through his thick skull that she actually cared about him? Honestly.
From the other side of the door he instructed her to close her eyes, and only after she had squeezed them tightly shut did she feel silk tie itself around her eyes, thick enough that when she opened them all she could see was the light as it filtered through the deep blue silk. There was a click as the deadbolt to her apartment door slid back, and the familiar creak of the door opening before a chilled hand enclosed her own.
"I've got you," Loki promised, and his voice sounded raw, near thick with emotion as his hand squeezed hers tight.
"Loki you're ice cold," she murmured, feeling the way he tensed around her despite the concern in her voice. She reached out a hand towards where the sound of his voice was coming from, brushed the back of her hand against his soft cheek, before he tugged her inside. There was a soft woosh as he left her to close the door and lock it behind her, and soon as he was gone he was back.
"What happened on your mission?" He asked, steering her further into the apartment. She counted her steps mentally as she gave him the quick rundown on the mission, skipping out the messier details about how she'd been tracked down back to her hotel and had to put up a firefight there in order to get the rest of the information about the new sect of Hydra. They'd brought out two of their finest, the Miracles they'd called them, and Nat had been lucky to escape with what injuries she had. The pain had been worth it for the intel and information about their fighting technique, but still. Loki sat her down on what must've been the bed, judging by how far he'd led her into the apartment, and as she reclined slowly on her arms she felt it creak beneath her in a two-beat pattern that was familiar. Interesting that he'd taken up residence here.
"You're certain you're alright, then?" He asked, not taking a seat next to her. She couldn't understand why, couldn't get a read on why he was doing a whole lot of this if she was honest. Loki enjoyed his secrets and his pranks, but isolation? Self imposed isolation? Not his style.
"I don't think it should be me that we're talking about, Loki," she said, tipping her head up though she couldn't see more than an outline of him, couldn't get a feel for anything about what was happening around her. The air seemed chillier than normal, but he'd always liked the cold a great deal so perhaps he was simply running up her electricity bill by keeping the AC on low. New York heat never had been particularly good to him, if she remembered correctly.
"I am fine, Natasha," he said, and she felt, rather than sensed, as he leaned down in front of her. His lips were mere seconds from hers, and there was a near palpable desperation, one she could practically taste. Interesting. Experimentally she licked her bottom lip, heard his sharp intake of breath.
"No, you're not." She said, hitching her own breath slightly, her voice pitching into a slightly higher range. He didn't stand a chance. "I've missed you Loki, and I know you've missed me. Why don't you show me?" She sucked her bottom lip, fattening and reddening it under her teeth,
He surged closer, ignoring her words in favor of capturing her mouth with his own. His tongue pushed past her lips and teeth without issue, and she let him in with a soft groan as he licked inside her mouth. One of his hands clutched at the side of her neck, cradling her head as though desperate that she would never break apart. Spurred on by his own excitement, she hooked one of her legs around his and fell backwards to tug him down with her, atop her, felt him hard enough against her thigh to make her wet almost immediately. He groaned, catching himself on his elbows, before rutting against her. So she'd been right-he'd been without physical contact for however long, nearly a month, and it would be getting near more than he was willing to stand. She groaned and arched her back, rolling her hips up against his own and listening to his stuttered breath as it filtered between them. His teeth caught on her bottom lip before he kissed further down, biting her throat as he went until she knew she'd be spotted the next morning.
Rip.
Her blouse torn clean in two beneath his hands, and his cool skin carved goosebumps on her flesh sharp enough to cut what little distance was between them. She reached out to massage his biceps, running her fingers over what felt like scars that made her breath catch in her throat in desire. He pulled away at the sound, and she keened.
"No. Don't stop," she begged. "Loki. Please."
A pause. She counted thirty-three quicksilver heartbeats that echoed in her ears before he brought his lips to her collar and rocked his hips against hers once more.
When they finally came together, the shreds of their clothing on the ground in what she guessed would be disorganized piles, he bellowed in a language she couldn't recognize, too busy blinking back tears of ecstasy as he thrust harder and harder into her until she was certain he'd shatter her pelvic bone. His fingertips drew bruises in the skin covering her hips and she dug her heels into her back to force him faster, begging him onwards as he pulled out entirely, the head of his cock dripping as it pressed to her slick entrance, before he sheathed himself fully in her once more. The fat head of his cock crashed against her g-spot at the same time as one of his fingers grazed downwards and brushed against her clit, sending her spiraling out of control. She felt skin break beneath her fingernails, felt warm blood on her fingertips and heard him howl as they came together, his hips stuttering as he helped them both rie out their orgasms.
Boneless, exhausted, and still blindfolded, Natasha allowed him to wrap her up in his grip, to whisper into her hair that he loved her, and didn't hesitate before replying that she loved him, too.
For the next month it continued on. She would appear at the doorstep in between missions, he would blindfold her and bring her back to make her see stars from behind the silk of the tie he used to restrict her vision. She didn't question it, thinking it was just some weird kink he was suddenly into and assuming it would pass.
When it didn't, and it began to border on two months, she took matters into her own hands. He'd allowed her on top this time, and his teeth were sunk into her throat as he sucked and bucked up into her while she rolled her hips back, taking his cock as quickly as she could.
"Loki-you feel so good," she whimpered as she arched her back again and leaned with it, throwing her head back. He kissed his way down her collarbone to her breasts, taking each into turn and sucking the nipple, flicking it back and forth with his tongue, while the slightest pressure of his teeth was heaven and hell rolled into the same easy packaging. "Tell me you love me," she begged.
As he murmured his own sweet nothings against her skin, nibbling at the underside and valley of her breasts, she took advantage of his attention turned onto something else and snuck a hand up to rip the blindfold off. It fell to the bed with a soft thud she was certain wouldn't be heard, but Loki immediately stilled beneath her. Except he didn't look like the Loki she was used to, his skin a deep azure, the scars she was certain she'd been rubbing her fingers against markings that spiraled and cascaded over near every inch of skin. His hair seemed longer, more wild as it fell over her chest, where his head was still bent, and when he turned his eyes up to meet hers they were bright red.
Their gaze held for a good half a minute before Natasha whined at the lack of friction and rolled her hips once again, eager to get the show back on the road. He wasn't having any of it, though, and before she could blink she was on her back and he was standing above her, cock standing proud and as deep blue as the rest of him, his cheeks ruddy with embarrassment.
"You weren't-I'm a mon-you should've kept the fucking blindfold on," he spat, his embarrassment turning to white-hot rage quick as Natasha could blink, and his eyes narrowed to red slits as he glowered down at her. "I shouldn't have let you come in until I could fix it-I didn't want you to see me. . . . this is how I truly am." He said, breathing deep to steady the words that came next. "Amora promised she'd help me to ready myself, to tell you how I felt. Said there were a few things I needed to do before I could say that. She lied and tricked me and now-I just shouldn't have been so stupid. I'm an idiot."
Natasha caught his wrist before he could turn away, her gaze softening as she looked up at him. With weak knees, her body still trembling for want of pleasure, she drew herself to her not so considerable height and cupped the side of his face.
"Hey. You told me you loved me. I do, too," she murmured. "Doesn't matter to me what you are, so long as you're mine and I'm yours. That's not going to change. Right?"
She'd never seen him look so vulnerable, so open. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he gnawed at his bottom lip, considering her words.
"You mean it?"
"Am I lying?" She countered. As though she could get away with it in front of him. As if she'd try with something that important.
He shook his head, black curls shifting as he did, and he surged downwards to kiss her fiercely on the lips, holding her tight to him until they might as well have bled into each other. For as cold as his skin was, his kiss was searing, and soon he had her pressed back against the mattress, driving slowly into her. His eyes never left hers and now that she was allowed to see she held his gaze, cheeks heating up under the intensity of it all as it mixed with the rising pleasure. Her left hand sought out one of his own, fingers threaded together as she shouted to him that she was coming, and as she tightened around him she felt him follow her down the dizzying tumble of pleasure and emotion, tasted salt as a few of his tears fell to her lips. She leaned up to kiss them away, feeling them chill against her lips, whispering in his ears that she loved him, she wanted to be with him, and held him as he shook apart in her arms.
The next morning, when Natasha woke to creaking bones and aching muscles, she caught sight of pale, pink skin sprawled out beside her and couldn't help but smile. Loki may have thought Amora had tricked him, but perhaps the woman knew more than he gave her credit for.
A/N: As most of my fics seem to be, this came from a prompt from the loverly Jessy-who is very much a gracious and amazing host, and this is my present to her since I can't afford much else. Hope you all enjoyED it either way! I think it turned out a-okay. Thanks for reading!