Notes: Holla friend! Thanks for finding your way here, but please read this before you continue. WARNING: smut, dub-con, non-con. Mentions of alcohol, drugs, depression and assault. Stop right here and head back to browse for something else if you're not okay with any of that. Same goes if you're under the age of consent. I love reviews, but please make sure they're positive/constructive. Flames are not cool.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Marvel's world (such as Loki or anyone else who might show up). I do own Freya, who is human and just has the god's name.
The club is hot, sweaty and tacky; so far beneath him, and yet Loki finds himself drawn to the place. He watches the dance floor from above, smiling to himself as the humans below swirl and stumble about like a confused school of fish. Jumping up and down to the same rhythm, hands high in the air, or all over each other.
One girl catches his eye. She's in the middle of the crowd, but disjointed from it all; swaying softly, beautifully, to a tune that is entirely her own. The girls around her sneer, but not a few men approach her, trying to change her movements to suit the song, or at least their version of it. She refuses to pander to their whims, though, merely keeping up her own pace.
A friend passes by her, and Loki can see them talk quickly. Her friend is trying to get her to come home, although it's clear that the boy holding her hand is less eager for company. But this girl simply shakes her head, smiling, and waves the two of them away. She'll make her own way home.
With the idea that she might of left lingering, Loki realises that he doesn't want her to, unless it's with him. He threads his way quickly through the crowd, down the stairs and through the tightly packed dancers to her. He joins her in her dance, swaying as she does, smiling softly at her apparent shock. He moves closer, and she raises her face to him, staring at his lips, imagining what they feel like.
Those lips slip into a slight smirk before he leans down and touches them to hers. She sighs softly, and that's all the invitation he needs before his tongue moves between her lips, setting off sparks throughout her body. She moans into his mouth as she reaches up to his shoulders, locking her arms around his neck. In return he rests his hands lightly on her waist, guiding her body closer until it is only centimetres from his own.
They sway together like that, one of his legs slightly between hers, their mouths locked, their hands soft against the others' back. She is melting into him, the flush creeping through her body having nothing to do with the heat of the club, and everything to do with that leg, and his mouth on hers. She is a puddle of desire, and when he pulls away, she feels lost.
He finds her hand with his though, and leads her over to the bar. "What do you want to drink?" he semi-shouts to her.
"Um…vodka diet coke?" She sounds uncertain, but when Loki raises his eyebrow to check she nods confidently. The smirk is back on his face again as he hails a bartender and orders.
"Vodka diet coke and a scotch and dry," he snaps. No please or may I have. The bartender seems to know him though, and having made the drinks he places them on the bar, takes Loki's money, and moves on to the next customer. Loki moves to let go of the girl's hand, but she won't release him.
"You know I can't carry both drinks with one hand, right?" Once again, his cocky smile and raised eyebrow make her blush with embarrassment. Letting out a nervous giggle, she reaches up and takes her drink off the bar. Loki entwines his fingers in hers again as he leads her to a tiny table in the back corner of the place.
Loki slides along the bench until he's sitting with his back resting against the corner of the room, and softly pats the space beside him. The girl acquiesces, sitting down next to him and taking a sip from her glass. "Liquid courage?" Loki asks her; unsure of whether or not he wants that to be the case. The girl shakes her head though.
"Liquid happiness." She pauses before smiling at him brightly. "Anyways, I'm Freya."
He smirks again, his thumb lightly tracing circles on the palm of her hand. "I'm Loki," he says by way of reply. She tugs her hand away from his, and for a moment he wonders if she has heard of him somehow. She certainly looks angry enough.
"Well that's a way of joking about my name that I've never heard before," she snaps at him. "Why the fuck do people have an issue with what my parents decided to write on my birth certificate?"
Loki chuckles quietly, and begins tracing circles on her thigh as he explains, "Loki really is my name you know. It's a bit more oddball than Freya, don't you think?" He smiles carefully, hoping he's placated her, and she smiles back.
"Oops," she says with a giggle.
"You're a beautiful girl Freya," he murmurs, leaning in close to her. "Beautiful enough to do your name justice." For a few moments their faces hover millimetres from touching, and then they both move forward at the same time, their lips locking together and their tongues dancing.
The kiss is slow, sweet and sizzling. Zaps of electricity are darting throughout Freya's body, and she is leaning closer and closer to Loki. He slides his arm along the table, his hand hovering over Freya's glass for a moment before he rests it on her waist. She shifts closer, until there is no space between them as they sit. Loki slides his hand along her waist to the curve of her hip, and the light pressure makes her want to climb onto his lap.
She moans into his mouth, unable to contain her ecstasy with his mouth on hers, those infernal circles on her legs creeping ever higher, and his hand drawing her close to him. Finally he is drawing circles through her skirt at the top of her inner thigh. She is overwhelmed by a desire for those fingers be inside her, not on her leg. With another moan she bucks her hips slightly, involuntarily.
Loki draws away, shaking his head. "Now, now, Freya," he scolds. "We shouldn't be doing these things in public. It's just rude!" He smirks a little at the flags of colour rising on her cheeks, and leans closer again. "How about we finish our drinks and then go somewhere not so public?" he murmurs, and she nods her head quickly, desire pooling in the bottom of her stomach.
She downs her drink in one go, and Loki follows her lead. "My, my," he whispers in her ear, "we are eager aren't we, Freya?" She nods her head sleepily, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder.
"Loki?" she whispers.
"Yes Freya?" he asks, brushing her hair away from her face and putting one of her arms around his shoulders.
"I feel funny," she answers. "Not in the tummy. And not drunk funny either. Or funny haha." She giggles quietly to herself as he stands the two of them up, walking them out the back entrance to where his care waits. "I feel tired and fuzzy, Loki," she whispers. "Everything is so heavy." He helps her into the passenger seat and buckles her in before walking around the car and sitting in the drivers seat.
Her eyes are shut, but one of her hands flops onto his leg as he starts the car. "Loki," she mumbles. "Did you drug me?"
"Of course I did little one," he replies, smoothing her hair out of her face once more. "It was only a safety precaution, I promise; nothing personal." Freya is already asleep though, so he starts the car and begins the long drive to his accommodation.
To be continued...