Author's Note: I had an urge to play around with this pairing again thanks to Awolnation's lovely cover of "I'm On Fire" on the 50 Shades of Grey OST (I know, I KNOW. Detest the book. No desire to see the movie. Love the soundtrack). What resulted was not overly long, but a sweet, sultry piece that I'm quite pleased with. I hope you all enjoy it.


I'm On Fire

Travel to Midgard always proved exhausting, and Sif couldn't help but yawn as she made her way to her private quarters in the palace.


Once she pushed open the gilded, golden-doors to her room, the Shield Maiden was half tempted to flop, stomach-first, onto her bed (armor and all), only to discover that it wasn't entirely empty.

Her hazel eyes widened at the sight of Loki, wearing little more than a smile and some strategically placed blankets, sprawled out along the covers.

There was an appropriately mischievous glint in his green eyes, and he stretched, cat-like, before murmuring: "Welcome home milady."

"I'm in no mood for games tonight, liesmith," she glared in his direction, the strain from her mission making her words clipped. "So you have one of two choices. Stay exactly where you are and shut up, or get out."

He chuckled softly and patted at the blankets invitingly. "Option one it is."

Knowing that he would not remain blissfully silent for very long, Sif was quick to remove her armor and then her clothes, before crawling up on the bed next to him.

He reached for her immediately, his long, talented fingers weaving into the dark waves of her hair, yanking slightly to pull her forward and claim her mouth with his.

Smiling against his lips, Sif pressed her body against his, enjoying the cool sensation of his skin upon hers.

A low, sensual growl escaped the Aesir in her arms, and she let out a surprised shriek that was cut short by another kiss when he suddenly twisted and pinned her beneath him.

He pulled back momentarily to gaze down at her, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the pure affection that tempered the lust in his eyes.

A warm smile spread over his handsome features, and when he dipped his head in order to worship her properly, she was utterly distracted for a good while.


Sif wasn't entirely sure where she had managed to gain back her energy in order to keep up with her lover, but she suspected that magic might have been involved.

Not that she minded when Loki was so talented at pleasing her. In fact, she was perfectly content to lie wrapped up in his arms – sated in every possible way – as they basked in the afterglow.

Sighing quietly, she began to draw invisible symbols along his lean, beautifully muscled torso, noting that even when he was recovering from the onslaught of passion, his temperature was still much cooler than hers.

It made sense, as Loki was a Jotun, and she did so love the chill of his skin, but it also made her a little curious. "Loki?"

"Hmm?" he turned his head to look at her. "Am I allowed to talk, finally?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and propped herself up on one elbow. "I've always wondered something."

He shifted so he was resting on his side and could meet her eyes with his. "What's that?"

"Do I…feel warmer to you?"

"That's an odd question," he blinked. "Care to elaborate?"

"Well, it's just that I'm well aware of your Frost Giant roots, and even when we make love, your skin is much cooler than mine, so I wondered if I was well…hotter?"

He smirked slightly. "That depends on what you mean by hotter,"

She slapped at his arm. "You know full well what I mean, Loki. Do I…burn?"

His gaze turned serious and he reached over to tuck a lock of hair over her ear. "Yes, Sif. You do. You blaze, which is part of the reason I've been drawn to you since we were children. Your fire, Sif, is one of the things I love most about you."

Her heart fluttered at the honest declaration. "It doesn't bother you, then? That I'm a blaze in comparison to your frost?"

He shook his head and leaned in to kiss her sweetly. "Not in the slightest. If anything, it feels impossibly good when we touch."

"Oh thank Bor, I thought it was just me," she muttered, which caused him to laugh: a pleasant, resonant sound.

"Come here," he whispered, gathering her against him for a passion-filled kiss.

Sif gladly returned the embrace, draping her arms over his shoulders and allowing him to bear her back into the blankets.

And once again: there was very little in the way of discussion for the rest of the night.

She wouldn't have had it any other way.

The End