This is intended as a sequel for my story Steel Meets Iron. The Wounded Healer is permanently discontinued but some of you guys love it, and I'm sorry to say I'm ashamed of the story and I will be taking it down. Sorry, to those who had faith in it.

Anyways for this story, it differs a bit from Steel Meets Iron, which is that Loki and Raven never meet. I'll address the scenes that would have happened since they didn't meet throughout the story. This story is going to hint to Iron Man 3 and Thor 2.

So review and follow, and I plan to update weekly. I'm open to any criticism, since in the Wounded Healer plenty of you opened my eyes to the BS I was writing.

Chapter 1

Loki got bored of ruling. He managed to subdue Odin and finally got a chance to rule, though in his father's guise. With Frigga gone, and Thor off with the mortal Jane Foster, he was surrounded by fools convinced of his death without question. It had it's perks being king, though he was bound to his father's guise for most of the time. He has access to knowledge, forbidden knowledge that made him stronger, items of unspeakable power. It was being in a candy store for him. He wished he could have killed Odin, but even his cunning was no match for the king of Asgard, as weary as it was. But Thor was gone, believing him dead, and he had some good fun for his efforts. But alas, all good things had to come to an end. He grew tired of his charade and seamlessly let Odin take back the throne, he kept warm for him.

Though not without taking some things for himself. He would be a fool not to.

He thirsted for the freedom that had been taken from him. Though freedom was an illusion, a pampered ball and chain you sometimes forgot was there. His temporary rule of Asgard offered him other things such as ridding the Other off his trail, with his death public knowledge and slate wiped clean. He was confident now knowing he was free of them for now. They had new enemies now, some in Midgard.

The world had forgotten him. They were glad to forget him. Loki never forgot. He knew that Thor had wedded Jane, resulting in two children Astrid and Erik. He wasn't surprised. Thor was taken with her the moment he saw her, and Jane saw him for the golden fool he was. His children were both golden fools like him, none seemed to have their mother's intellect. She had adjusted to the life of an ásynja, not even the power of the Idunn Apple lifted the disdain he held for the woman. A single whisper and Thor would obey blindly.

As much as he loathed Midgard, the beings on it, Loki found himself in the realm. Yes, he guised himself so he would be unrecognized by the cameras of the realm, but he didn't change himself too much. With a simple use of an alias he was invisible. So many years and they had barely moved an inch within their prowess. He found amusement in some things, classical music, the books of intellectuals whom were aware of their lowly status in the universe. But he mostly preyed on the women. Perhaps it was the urge to dominate something, or to past the time along with pent up energy but mortals had their uses. And many were clueless to the ways of pleasure he knew all to well, he did enjoy perverted them, ruining them for any other man.

He was getting quite used to one, in particular.

A lithe little thing who loved some pain with her pleasure. Loki watched her hungrily as she came in through the door of his penthouse suite. She was a musician, a cellist, and he only had her company for the month then she would return home with her orchestra. He had come across her one night leaving an opera house. She was not his usual choice of woman, body disfigured by a scar of her chest and various tattoos. He expected her to be a timid thing not knowing a fragment of pleasure, and she caught him off guard. He decided to keep her around, and thus their arrangement was made.

He didn't endure the company of a mortal woman for no longer than the evening. But this woman attracted him somehow. Her youth didn't match the fire on his lips when she kissed him, the mature reaction to his suggestions. She was too young to appreciate such devious pleasures. And her tongue was sharp, her wit as thick as her skin. He liked that.

Mortal women played this silly game in their caverns. Asking questions to ease their guilt of wanting a man on sight. This girl was the first he met who bypassed this game with refreshing poise. Do you really wanna know what I do, or do you just want to fuck? I'm not going to be in town long, so I'm not really looking for anything but a fuck. If you don't mind? Because frankly I don't care what you do, nor will I even remember. I only care if your clean and if we use one of my condoms.

How could he say no?

As he requested she stripped herself of all her garments, leaving them in a neat pile on the sofa with her instrument going to the bed. She laid on her stomach patient as he watched her, every time she did this she hummed a tune, a different tune every time. To this day, she never hummed the same tune twice.

He came forward, his fingers brushing along her thigh. She had a savage appeal to her, with those determined brown eyes and charming smile. A giant dragon tattoo in the center of her back, a symbol on the back of her neck, a fading red feather on her neck and the name Vivian, with a date, on her hand, the eclipsed sun and moon on her foot. She remained still as he ran his fingers to the base of her neck, faint sighs the only response she gave him.

"You're wet for me Raven."

He didn't want to know her last name. It didn't interest him. He made it a point not to know anything about her. Simply her body. She had no objections.

"I am," she said, pure satisfaction. "And what are you going to do about it?"

He couldn't say her tongue wasn't amusing. And she made such good use of it.

He loved it when she screamed. Desperate pants as he used her how he pleased. Best part of all she loved it. She begged to be fucked harder and harder, making the most delightful purrs when she came, clenching around his cock. If not for the damnable condoms he had to wear, for the sake not to raise alarms, his seed would have dripped out of her each time. Her walls could milk him dry. She let him hold her down by her shoulders, using her as though she weren't a person at all, all the while her eyes encouraged him.

They weren't ever tender. They loved it hard, power struggling.

This resulted in bites and scratched backs. Teeth and nail marks everywhere. It was very much like he was bedding a little wildcat. Nights buried deep in her cunt were not wasted nights. She was eager to pleased, and be pleasured. She often remarked men today had no idea how to please women, nor that women had fetishes just as men do. Loki did like a woman unashamed of her sexuality, whom had some intelligence.

He was not attached to Raven. But he did love how she felt squeezing his dry. Her breath in his ear, praises coming out breathy. Trying to meet his brutal thrusts. Challenging him to do worst, pound into her harder as she flicked her clit, his arms holding him above her stabilizing his thrusts. She come with a curt yell, body arching, neck rose in a flush and with her involuntary muscle clench, he followed with a loud groan, last jerking bucks giving her orgasm some spike.

Despite the abuse they threw at one another they always ended each time in content. Smiles and light laughs. He can't recall a time he ever took her gently, yet that satisfied smile never left her face. She was durable, he liked that also.

"How much more days do we have?" He asked.

She blinked, visibly counting with her fingers, "Uhhh, nine days... damn," she whistled. "That's sucks."

He laughed at her childish pout, "You'll miss me?"

Raven snickered, that odd brogue of hers making her words more wicked. "I'll miss your mouth, hands and cock. You?" She cocked her eyebrow. "Not so much."

"Well that's good." He turned to his side, letting her see his face as he spoke. "Because I'm afraid the only part of you I'll miss are, your cunt, your hands, that hot little mouth of yours and your screams."

Hardly bashful at his vulgarity she said, "Awww, I'm touched. I bet you say that to all the girl you fuck," she waved his statement off. "It's good though, very smooth." She made an okay gesture with her hand.

He dipped down and kissed her. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

With a fistful of his long hair, she pulled back down for another kiss. Tasting him since he hadn't with his previous kiss. "Not tomorrow night, or the night after that."

"Pity," he said. "I had plans for you."

"In two days," she reaffirmed. "Now am I allowed to go to sleep? Or do you have any last minutes plans for me?"

He chuckled, "No, we can go to sleep."

In the morning she was gone. She never stayed for breakfast, she insisted she had to be in her hotel by a certain time or her bandmates would worry about her. He was glad for the lack of attachment she had, it made things so much simpler. He knew the moment she spoke, she was not from this city, Paris. Her tone of voice was thicker, and it made her French impossible to ignorable. It was only supposed to be a night, he feigned being a tourist, yet he ran into her once more.

Loki only went to places that would appeal to him. He was in Stuttgart before, for the sake of nostalgia, then he decided to go to London, and finally Paris. He wasn't going to spend too long here, the sight of humans reminded him too much of his dealings with Thanos and the Other. The consequences of the choice he was forced into.

He decided to go to a show. Not particular reason, he was bored and he figured why not. He had summoned the show program to his hand, halfway through. The music was pleasant but the details of the orchestra held no interest to him, unlike the various critics that were in attendance. Plenty of the people he passed to get to his seat talking of nothing else. The critics and the mysterious cellist they all wanted to see. He barely listened, until he saw the program, running his eyes down to the soloists.

There in black ink stood a name that made him run cold.

Raven Stark.

The solo cellist. Raven Stark.

The curtain rose the second his eyes registered the name. Center stage stood Raven, the Raven he had been with the night before. The delightful creature he was happy to rut into. In a elegant black dress that hugged every curve of her slender body, with that cropped hair framing her face, and those fixated brown eyes. Loki paid less attention to her performance and studied her face. The shape, the contours, the proportions. He tried to not to concern himself with the Avengers, it had been some time, they would be too old to fight. Save for the Soldier but he had no one in his life. He mused over vengeance but he had no plans presently in the process. Now seeing Raven, Raven Stark, rekindled the urge to do something.

The more he looked at her, the more her face was less and less like Stark's. Not even the brown hair and eyes sparked any connection. Yet when he sent invisible doubles among the chatter, they all said she was his daughter. The Tony Stark's only daughter. The second thing he searched for were any traces of Shield, on her, in her changing room, in the entire building.

There was not a single thing.

She was exposed and unprotected.

It rose a million questions. And thousands more as he hovered her, unseen. She was his daughter, as they said, yet she looked nothing like him and told old for him not to have heard of. When he had Barton under his control, he made him divulge secrets of the Avengers, and while Stark had a lover, he reported no child. Was she an illegitimate child? It would explain her features.

"Ah, the magnificent Raven Stark," a stout man kissed her knuckle. " Daughter of Tony Stark, your reputation precedes you."

"I'm glad I managed to make your evening an interesting one," she shook the hands of the others.

"You must join one of our orchestras," said one the critics.

Flawless she replied, "I hope someday, I can expand my talents further."

"Bah," another dismissed, "she'll work everywhere! The daughter of Tony Stark, the world is her oyster."

After many praises and showers of gratitude Raven finally got to her changing room. The smile fell from her lips as she went to a chair, kicking her shoes off. She sighed rubbing her hands, a dissatisfied scowl on her face.

"Daughter of Tony Stark," she scoffed. "I thought I had a name." Her phone rang, reluctantly she picked up, "Yes Dad?" She set it down putting it on speaker.

"Hey Princess." It was Tony Stark's voice. "How's Paris?"

"Exhausting," she yawned. "How's California?"

"Boring. I hate being retired."

"You're retired from being a superhero, not a dad or a business man." She shook her head with a smile. "Why don't you and Van go blow something up? Father-son bonding time?"

"We did that last week," Stark made a nervous noise, "and Pepper was not happy."

Raven tutted, "You Stark Boys, blowing shit up or blowing minds."

His laugh sounded tired, "We could use the Stark Girl."

"Dad," Raven whined, "you were juggling me and Van for years. Nag Van before he thinks he's too cool for you."

"You think you're too cool for me?" He teased.

"I know I am," she retorted. "I'm fresh to death Dad... Besides Van is sick of me, he wants his dad all for himself."

"Van still thinks his sister is cool," Stark stated. "He just... plays it off."

Raven rolled her eyes, "Tell you what, if nothing comes up or I get an opportunity to crash through the States... I'll pass through for a midnight snack. Happy now?"

Stark's voice took a tone he never expected to hear. From the man that boldly challenged him.

"I just miss you Princess... You're always on the move..."

"I'm a cellist with a social life, Dad! Besides we've discussed things a thousand times. I'll -"

"Visit when you can. I know, I know. Jesus, I'm becoming such a whiner."

"Perks of being retired. I gotta go, love you."

"I love you too Princess. Try not to burn the city down." He hung up.

Loki stared in disbelief at the girl rubbing her tired feet. The disbelief then faded to fiendish laughter, incontrollable laughter. At the odds, the chances, the fact he had complete access to Tony Stark's daughter. He had been bedding her for days, he had her on her knees, spread out offering herself to him, taking every inch of him eagerly. He laughed over and over. Although he shielded his face from cameras, Raven saw his face, and she had no idea who he was.

They hadn't told her. They all thought he was dead.

She wasn't an Avenger or Shield Agent.

And she was out in the open for anyone to steal away.