Author's Note: First of all, credit for where credit is due! The drawing used for this story was done by the one and only leperu, and can be found if you look up their name and then select their livejournal account (since I have zero clue how to properly paste links in here without them being deleted).
Anyways, some of my favourite stories on here involve the Frostshield pairing of Steve Rogers and Loki; I highly recommend you read "To Be Redeemed" by My2BrownEyes, as well as "Breaking the Unbreakable" by ALittleDarkInside, if you haven't already. They're my top 2 favourite "Stoki" (as I like to call them) stories, hands down. Anyways, because my mind operates on pure smut, I wanted to start a story that is essentially a series of Frostshield oneshots, for days where I'm either having writer's block with my other story, or am just feeling pervy and want to get it out of my system. I will probably start another story soon of a similar nature, but with some good ole' fashioned brother-on-brother action that is Thorki.
WARNING: Explicit sex, mature content, inappropriate language, violence, and in some chapters, BDSM. You have been warned.
Lastly, I do not own Marvel, The Avengers, Cap, Loki, or any other recognizable characters, places, plot, or dialogue. I only own the terrible, terrible things I'm about to make Steve and Loki do to each other. xo
…
CHAPTER ONE
Premise: After their first encounter in Germany, Loki is captured by Captain America and Iron Man. On route to S.H.I.E.L.D., however, Thor intercepts and tries to steal his younger brother away. What would've happened if Loki had not let himself be captured again afterwards, and instead set his sights on a new plan – one that involved Steve Rogers…?
WARNING: This chapter contains smut of a violent nature, and can be considered unpleasant to those who are uncomfortable with forceful/angry sex. Be advised.
…
Loki did not even have the time to process the sudden blur of red, white, and blue. The only thing that registered in his brain was that the blast of energy he had shot from his sceptre had somehow ricocheted back towards him, striking him in the chest and sending him to his hands and knees. A man - a tall, broad-shouldered, well-built man - in the world's most ridiculous spandex suit but also with the world's most impenetrable shield, slowly rose to his feet. There was determination in his eyes. How cute, Loki thought mockingly, his eyes ablaze.
The suited man began to walk towards him, through the parting crowd that Loki had forced to kneel before him only moments before. The idea that someone would just barge right into his moment, his time, and reverse what he had done, enraged the god of mischief.
"You know, the last time I was in Germany, I saw a man standing above everybody else," the man said, never taking his eyes off of Loki as he continued to bridge the gap between them. He spoke firmly, confidently. "We ended up disagreeing."
A slight smile twisted Loki's open-mouthed expression as he stood back up. The colours, the uniform, the stars. Oh yes, he knew exactly who this man was: the one and only Captain America. Barton had told him all about him. "The soldier," he stated, unimpressed. Laughing to himself, he added, "The man out of time."
Captain America would never know that this simple statement was the beginning of a plan, melding and working itself inside the Trickster's brain. To him, it was a simple declaration of his status – for he was, in the literal sense, a man out of his own time. To the young god, however, it was both an observation and a wicked realization, both meaning two different things but both that would work together to his advantage.
"I'm not the one who's out of time," the Captain replied coolly. Suddenly, a large fighter jet appeared in the sky above the soldier, and a woman's voice came over the intercom. "Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," she ordered, guns lowering from beneath the aircraft and pointing in the god's direction.
Loki moved before she could even finish her sentence. No one was allowed to give him orders.
Pointing the sceptre and then yanking it back, a large blue blast of the tesseract's energy shot up and at the jet. Unfortunately, it swayed to the side and dodged it just in time. Momentarily occupied, Loki didn't even notice the Captain fling his right arm forward and send his shield flying. It hit his chest, but only stunned him; his Asgardian armour was tougher than the soldier anticipated, hitting metal and flying back into his hand rather than doing any real damage.
To Loki's surprise, the young man had the courage – the audacity – to make his next assault a punch to his face. Loki's head snapped back from the force, but quickly looked back at him, enraged. The god never even blinked. This wasn't exactly what the Captain had in mind, having previously assumed that the assailant would have been far weaker than himself. The man before him was unusually strong; the super serum soldier wasn't used to facing someone he could not take down with a punch, much less not take down with his shield.
The Captain's surprise was evident on his face, and it almost made the god of mischief want to laugh. But that instinct was overshadowed by the scalding feeling of his blood boiling in his veins at this man who had defied him. He swung his sceptre at the man, who attempted to block the blows with his vibranium disk, only to be knocked down and sent rolling back with the third hit. Panting, he raised his eyes from the floor and glowered at Loki; the look sent a jolt of electricity through the god's body. This was more than domination, more than exhilarating; seeing this soldier on his knees, looking up at him with such hatred, was arousing.
He had little time to think of this, though, for the Captain quickly tossed his shield back into his right hand and hurled it in his direction. This was becoming child's play for the Trickster, however; he used the sceptre to merely knock the shield out of the way. With no other weapon, the Captain was now resorting back to hand-to-hand combat. He swung a heavy fist towards Loki's face, who moved back and dodged it; the god then retaliated by swinging his sceptre towards the side of the Captain's head. The Captain thrusted himself back, landing on his right hand, and dipping out of the sceptre's way before it made contact. Fists and metal, that's what they were. The Captain finally managed to land a single punch to the god's abdomen, but the attack did little. The god continued as if nothing had happened, swinging his staff and hitting the soldier on the back, sending the man flying.
Tired of this little game of theirs, Loki walked up to the man on his knees – who had so much hatred for him in his eyes and who was so noble and pure and everything that Loki wanted to destroy – and roughly pushed the end of his sceptre down against the man's scalp. "Kneel," he hissed, but the volatile tone did not meet his eyes. The god wanted the soldier to kneel, but not for just the reasons the latter heard in the command.
Captain America would not "kneel", would not give in to this villain - not now, not ever. "Not today," he retorted, knocking the sceptre away and leaping into the air to deliver a swift kick to the god's chest. They were once again back to being a flurry of fists, punches, and kicks. But the mortal was still slower than the god, and one moment of vulnerability left his back open to the Trickster, who quickly wrapped an arm around the soldier's chest.
Quickly, so quickly that the Captain wasn't sure it had even happened at all, Loki leaned in and growled into his ear, "You will kneel before me." Before the sentence was even finished, he threw the Captain away with an angry shout. The soldier hit the ground with a heavy thud and rolled, a pained cry escaping his lips as he felt his ribs bruise against the concrete.
Before he could advance once more upon the soldier, music – if Loki could call it that – suddenly blared loudly from the PA system of the aircraft; the Captain looked upwards in confusion, as did Loki. A man in an iron suit seemed to appear as if from thin air, opening his palms and discharging a blast of energy at the young god. Unprepared, Loki was sent flying back with a startled grunt, landing uncomfortably onto the concrete steps behind him.
The man in the iron suit took an oppositional stance, an array of weapons and gadgets appearing and all pointing in the Trickster's direction. "Make a move, Reindeer Games," the metallic voice challenged. Loki considered retaliating – until he saw the Captain rise to his feet and walk up next to the other man; his ally. Suddenly, fighting back did not seem the proper way to go, oh no. Loki considered that he might have a much better plan.
"Stark," the Captain said, not taking his eyes off of the demigod.
"Captain," came the simple reply. They kept their gazes hard on Loki, who surprised them by suddenly getting a slightly amused expression on his face, as he held his hands up in surrender. In a flash of shimmering green light, his sceptre and helmet vanished, and he allowed the men to seize him and lead him onto the Helicarrier.
…
Loki tried not to let his excitement show. It was really hard. Those mortals, they were so oblivious; too wrapped up in their own heroic plans to even consider that they had been duped. Or so he thought, until he faintly heard the Captain speak.
"I don't like it," he heard him mutter to the man in the iron suit, whose helmet was by now removed and had revealed a head of brown hair with brown eyes to match. Loki recalled what Barton had told him about this man – this Iron Man – and he remembered that the man beneath the mask was a mortal called Tony Stark.
Loki was surprised to hear how different the soldier's voice now sounded; when he had approached the god, he spoke with a strong and unfaltering confidence. Now, it was as if the image had been shed and the man beneath the mask was showing his true self: quieter, more polite, unsure… Very subtly and without detection, Loki spared a sideways glance at the Captain, who he hadn't realized had also removed his own helmet. He had dirty blonde hair that was somehow still perfectly coiffed, despite having been trapped under a tight mask for the last hour. His eyes were a nice shade of blue; not quite as brilliant of a blue as Thor's orbs, Loki noted, but close. What he liked the most about his face was that it was innocent; this was no longer Captain America, but the Steve Rogers that Barton had told him about, too. There was something undoubtedly naïve and inexperienced engrained into his features, as if this man still only saw the good in the world. Faintly, the god smirked. He would soon have to change that.
"What? Rock of Ages giving up so easily?" the man in the iron suit replied, not seeming to care much. The sound of his voice pulled Loki from his thoughts, and he nonchalantly looked forward again, as if he wasn't listening.
"I don't remember it being that easy," Steve insisted with a frown. His eyes quickly averted to Loki and watched him suspiciously. "This guy packs a wallop."
Tony Stark said something back which seemed to spark some tension between the two men; Loki stopped listening, though faintly heard the words "pilates" and "Capsicle" being dropped – whatever that meant. Instead, he pondered the soldier's words. A small, impish grin graced the corner of his lips and he had to fight hard to push it back down before being seen. This solder, this Steve Rogers, was cleverer than the god had thought. He seemed to be the only person on the aircraft who noticed that Loki's sudden surrender seemed out of the ordinary; he almost wanted to applaud the Captain.
He might have, had it not been for the sudden rumble that filled the air. The Helicarrier shook with the tremors from the thunder, and Loki could have sworn his heart stopped. Oh no. A sharp crack of lightning pierced the sky and was swiftly followed by a booming crack! Again the jet stumbled mid air. Loki's eyes were now staring towards the roof, knowing full well that he'd been discovered.
"What's the matter?" he heard Rogers ask him. "Scared of a little lightning?"
Had he not been frozen to his chair, the tone in the soldier's voice would've been enough for the god to cut his tongue out at the seam. But there was no time for that now. Instead, he looked back at the blonde-haired man and flatly replied, "I'm not overly fond of what follows."
There was a sudden thud heard from above, and the plane dropped a tad from new weight. The mortals teetered, losing their balance and unsure of what was going on. But Loki knew, and he dreaded the newfound addition to their group. Eyes stilled fixed upwards, his hand started feeling behind him for the belt buckles that had him strapped to the seat. Stark seemed to realize that there was someone else here now, for he quickly reached for his helmet and placed it back on his head; Rogers did the same.
Opening the entrance to the back of the Helicarrier, Iron Man began walking towards the opening. "What are you doing?" Captain America asked frantically - when the thunder god suddenly appeared. If fear crossed the younger god's face, he was too preoccupied to have tried to mask it. Iron Man held up a metal hand in preparation to fire, but with one swift motion, Thor struck him with the mighty weight of Mjölnir, sending the man flying back like a ragdoll.
Thor now turned to the Trickster, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him from the seat. Loki tried to move in the opposite direction, but Thor's hand was then around his neck, dragging him towards the jet's opening. He struggled to get free, but it was no use. Shooting a panicked look at his brother, Loki felt the sudden thrust and then the terrifying freefall as Thor jumped them both out of the plane. He could feel Mjölnir propelling them forward until Thor's feet made contact with the earth beneath him, letting go of him. He was projected backwards, his body still caught up in momentum, and he hit the ground and skidded across the dirt on his back, letting out a startled cry.
Loki groaned, the wind momentarily knocked out of him, and then he laughed. How very like his brother to come barging in and taking over without an invitation.
"Where is the tesseract?" Thor asked calmly.
"Oh, I missed you too," Loki replied, still chuckling to himself.
Thor's voice grew harsher. "Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"
Lifting his head off the ground, Loki began to stand, though the task was difficult. He felt disoriented. "You should thank me," he pointed out. "With the Bifrost gone, how much dark energy did the Allfather have to muster to conjure you here, your precious Earth?"
Mjölnir hit the ground with a heavy thud, and suddenly Thor's hands were on him, pulling him up the rest of the way so he was finally on his feet. His left hand grasped the back of Loki's neck, and for a moment, the Trickster was unsure of whether the elder would strike or not. But breathing heavily, the older brother just looked at him in both disbelief and sadness. "I thought you dead," he said.
Yeah right. Loki found that difficult to believe; as if Heimdall had been unable to see him, or the Allfather unknowing. In his mind, in his irrational thought, they had all known; had been grateful for seeing him drop into the abyss and slip out of their world. "Did you mourn?" he asked monotonously.
Thor seemed confused at the implication. "We all did," he insisted. "Our father –"
Loki held up a single finger to silence him. "Your father," he corrected, his voice hard as stone. He slapped Thor's hand away and began to move around him. "He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?"
"We were raised together," Thor's voice followed him. "We played together, we fought together – do you remember none of that?"
Loki spun and faced him. "I remember a shadow," he said acidly, "living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an abyss; I who was and should be King!"
"So you take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights? No, the Earth is under my protection, Loki."
And that sentiment was truly hilarious. Loki laughed. "And you're doing a marvelous job with that," he mocked. "The humans slaughter each other in drones while you idly fret. I mean to rule them, and why should I not?"
"You think yourself above them?"
The question confused the Trickster. "Well, yes," he answered, as if it should have been obvious.
"Then you miss the truth of ruling, Brother; the throne would suit you ill," Thor said sadly, shaking his head.
Angered, Loki let out a small growl through clenched teeth as he weakly struck Thor's chest with his fist. "I've seen worlds you've never known about!" he snarled, walking to the lip of the hill. "I have grown, Odinson, in my exile," he spat, spinning back towards his brother. "I have seen the true power of the tesseract, and when I wield it –"
The sudden excitement in Loki's voice at the mention of the tesseract made Thor's blood run cold. He had been told stories of its power and what it could do when in possession of those with a tainted heart; if Loki had truly been exposed to it, then that meant… "Who showed you this power?" he demanded. "Who controls the would-be King?"
"I AM A KING!" Loki shouted.
"Not here!" Thor rebutted, grabbing Loki by the shoulders in a grasp that would have crushed him had he been human. "You give up the tesseract; you give up this poisonous dream!" Anger faded from his tone as the hand that gripped his right bicep moved upward to resume cradling the back of Loki's neck. "You come home," he continued, his voice breaking and his eyes pleading.
Had he been a hundred years younger, the action would have warmed Loki's heart, for it had been done countless times as they grew up – the singular brotherly gesture that seemed to embody all the love that Thor had for his little brother. But things were different now, and they could never return to where they once had been.
Loki smiled; a strange smile, that could have also passed for half a frown. "I don't have it," he confessed.
Thor promptly let go and summoned Mjölnir back into his grip in a stance that Loki could only guess was supposed to come off as threatening. "You need the cube to bring me home, but I've sent it off I know not where," Loki expanded lightly, relishing in the way that Thor struggled to accept this truth.
He pointed the hammer at the younger god. "You listen well, brother," Thor began. "I –"
And then he was suddenly tackled out of sight by a flash of red and gold. Loki paused for dramatic effect and then raised his eyebrows. "I'm listening," he said amusedly to thin air.
He walked back to the edge of the rock face and observed as Iron Man and the thunder god exchanged heated words and then suddenly started fighting. Big surprise, Loki thought. Leave it to Thor to know how to do nothing else but punch his way out of a situation. Entertained, he lowered himself to a seating position and watched as the two men below battled. Perhaps if he was lucky, Thor would be knocked so hard that he went crawling back to his precious Asgard.
But he knew better; as strong as the Iron Man seemed to be, his brother was also a force to be reckoned with. He was ensuring as much. He still had his original plan, after all, and it depended on Thor not being beaten so easily.
All of that changed, however, when a figure dawned in red, white, and blue suddenly fell from the sky and landed on a rock down to his left. His eyes immediately fell to him. Of course, how could he forget the Captain? In him, lay an even more fun scheme. He watched in fascination as the soldier hurled his shield towards the two enemies, striking Thor's armour before hitting Iron Man's and returning to his hand. "Hey!" he heard him shout in a commanding voice, getting both of their attention. He needn't try and get his with such a command, though; he already had it. That familiar devilish grin made his lips curl.
"Sorry, brother," he whispered. "I no longer feel like playing along today. You'll have to catch me first."
When the three warriors returned to the cliff to retrieve the prisoner, he was already gone.
…
It was past midnight when Steve Rogers entered the door to his apartment. He was exhausted, and he was disappointed. He had been given a mission, and he had failed; successfully capturing the villain known as Loki in Germany, only to have the man's brother appear and ruin the entire thing. He should have been more diligent; he should have done more to stop the thunder god from releasing him in the first place.
Fury had been outraged. "Does someone want to tell me how in the hell this maniac escaped!?" he had demanded, his one good eye flashing something fierce. Thor said little, Stark said a lot – though how much of what he said was actually worth something was debatable. Romanov stood still and unmoving, save for sharp glances to the three men from time to time. She was on the receiving end of Fury's outburst as well, and Steve knew that she was cursing them for blowing up what had also been her assignment. She had not been the one to assist in Loki's release, after all. Whenever he cold gaze landed on him, Steve could only swallow guiltily and stare down at the floor.
Opening up the closet where he kept his uniform, Steve hung up the Captain America mask. He stood there and stared at it, his eyebrows knit together and a frown on his face. What were they supposed to do now? He was the Captain; that made him the leader. He would have to take action, even if that meant finding Loki himself. He had to set things right. Stripping himself of his uniform and hanging it up along with his shield, Steve tried to allow himself several minutes of peace as he showered. But as the hot water pelted against his skin, he winged every time a certain movement reminded him of his bruised ribs and his injured back, drawing an uncomfortable groan from him. He was built for this, for these types of injuries, but Loki had been strong and had managed to hurt him. He knew he'd be better by the morning, however; the pain was more so just a reminder of his failure than of anything else. That bothered him the most.
Afterwards, he dressed in a white t-shirt and a loose-fitting pair of grey pyjama pants and walked towards the kitchen to grab himself a late night snack before bed. He frowned when he walked into the room to find the light already on. He could have sworn it had been off when he went to take his shower. Shrugging, he prepared some food and a glass of water, and walked into the dining room to sit and eat, turning off the kitchen light behind him. He sat down, his back to the doorway.
He had only taken one bite when he heard the soft sound of the light switch being flicked back on.
Slowly, he turned and looked into the entrance, which was now illuminated once again. He got up and walked back in tentatively, looking around for an intruder. When he spotted no one, he turned the light back off and resumed eating.
Click.
The light came back on again. Now he knew that there was someone else in the apartment. Breath hitching in his chest, he stopped chewing as he felt the sudden presence of someone standing in the door frame behind him.
"Who are you?" he asked pointedly, not turning around, but on guard in case he needed to make any sudden movements.
A soft chuckle made his blood freeze. "Now, Captain, hasn't anyone ever told you it is rude to speak with your mouth full?"
No, it wasn't possible. This wasn't happening.
Steve glanced to his other side, where the dining room was attached to his living room. He could run through there and if he was quick enough, bypass Loki from the other side and retrieve his shield from his bedroom. Why had he insisted to Fury that he didn't want S.H.I.E.L.D's cameras in his home? That would have made things so much easier right now.
There was only a moment's pause before his chair skidded back and he bolted from his seat. Immediately, he came to a halt as Loki appeared now in front of him. "Oh no, I wouldn't do that," the god taunted, his face inhumanly passive and blank. His hands were casually folded behind his back and it was only then that Steve noted how tall the god actually was. Not knowing what to do, Steve turned on his heel and tried to run back through the kitchen entrance; again, he stopped in his tracks as he saw that another of Loki's forms still stood in the doorway. Unfamiliar with the god's tricks, he drew an arm back and attempted to strike the form that stood in the door frame, but his hand passed right through it, the illusion dissipating in a flash of shimmery green light.
Suddenly, Loki was behind him and reached both arms around the soldier, pinning him in a rough hold that made escape impossible. No, Steve's thoughts reeled, I'm going to die; please, God, please don't let me die!
"Now now, Captain, that isn't very hospitable," the god's words hissed into his ear as he continued to struggle; his breath was hot and somehow smelled sweet, and Steve jumped at the closeness of him. A yelp got caught in his throat as he suddenly felt the unmistaken smoothness of a blade press against the skin of his neck.
"You can scream if you want to," Loki offered in a voice that was hauntingly calm. "Would you like to see if your precious comrades will hear you? We can try."
Steve's hands clutched at Loki's arms as he fought to stay rigid; fighting back right now would surely get him killed. He had to remain still. The Trickster felt a small shuffle of the man's head against his cheek as he shook his head "no". "Aww, are you sure?" he pressed. "Yes? Then do not scream. Scream, and I will kill you. Do not think I won't do it, Captain." To reiterate his point, he pulled the blade of his dagger closer against Steve's flesh until it began to dig in, the thin skin beneath it struggling not to tear from the pressure. Steve whimpered, and he hated his body for betraying him in a moment where he needed to exhibit strength. Loki felt the vibrations of the sound and relished in it.
Turning Steve, he forced him into the living room. "If I let you go, are you going to run?" He waited for a reply but got none, so he dug the blade deeper again against Steve's neck until a small pained choke pushed out of the soldier's lips, and he shook his head "no".
Slowly, untrusting, Loki removed the dagger from against Steve's neck and let him out of the hold. The soldier stumbled forward, his hand jumping to his throat and holding it as if to protect it. He faced Loki, not wanting to turn his back on him again. "Is this not better?" Loki asked with a strange smile on his face. The dagger was no longer in sight. He lifted his hands in a casual gesture and then chuckled. "Now we can get to know each other."
"What do you want?" The question was hard and laced with anger. Steve was still trying to figure out how he could get to his shield before the god got to him first.
Loki seemed unphased by the question. "To get to know you, of course, as I just said." He saw the way the soldier's eyes darted from him to his left, and the man didn't have to voice his thoughts for the god to hear them. "I would like you to know, Captain, that there are more means within my power to stop you, lest you try and run. So I would advise you to stop thinking."
Steve gulped, his heart beating roughly in his chest. Something about the way that Loki was staring at him made him feel unnerved; the Trickster's eyes ran up and down his body, as if to strip him of everything that kept him protected. "Why me?" was all he could think to ask.
"Because…" Loki advanced upon him in slow, intimidating steps, never averting his eyes from the blue ones in front of him. Everything in Steve told him to run, to turn and bolt, and fight back, and live, but he was rooted to the ground by a fear he had not experienced in a long time. When Loki's face was inches from his, the god's lips moved again. "…You have heart."
Steve did not, could not, understand. Loki continued. "You are the Captain, the soldier, the leader. And you defied me - I do not like being defied. You are the example, Steve Rogers. You are the message."
Steve's eyes widened; the message? The example? What was this mad man going to do to him? The way that Loki remained unblinking, eyes boring into his as if to rip him apart from the inside out, made his heart rate spike. "Do as I say and this will all be much easier for you," Loki said softly. "Sit down."
He shook his head slightly, not wanting to. For a moment, Loki's face remained passive, and then suddenly there was a blinding pain and Steve cried out. Loki's hand was clutched tightly around his genitals, squeezing in a way that was both excruciating and yet somehow sent a foreign jolt up Steve's spine. Eyes squeezed shut, he fought back tears as Loki's face morphed into a scowl. Through clenched teeth, he brought his other hand to grab Steve by the jaw and pull his face even closer to his own. "I said, sit!" he ordered, biting out each word individually. Steve yelped and Loki threw him down onto the couch. Gasping and still throwing his head back in agony, Steve draped him arms between his legs like he had done with his neck, in a desperate attempt to protect it.
Loki stood before him, his own heart palpitating and a familiar sense of excitement pooling in his belly. Captain America had fought back and fought back hard. That man had stood a chance. But this was Steve Rogers, and clearly they were two separate men entirely. And the power he was exuding – how could Thor, the Allfather, everyone think he was not meant to rule? He was born to be a King.
Steve's eyes were still shut and his brows still knitted together in pain, but he was no longer groaning; his mouth still hung ajar but sound no longer escape his lips save for heavy breathing. He had to reign himself in; he had to get control of the situation and do something.
Loki could practically hear him thinking again. He stood in front of him and with a forceful but gentle hand, grabbed Steve by the throat. The soldier's eyes flew open and for a second time, he was sure, he was sure he was about to die. "I do not like being defied," the god repeated, his voice calm again but his eyes blazing. His fingers squeezed, momentarily cutting off Steve's air, and Steve passed in and out of consciousness for a second. "You are not being very polite. How am I to get to know you if you refuse to let me?"
Steve stared at him with wide, defiant eyes, and Loki squeezed harder against his throat, drawing a choked gasp from the soldier. He raised his eyebrows threateningly, and Steve, begrudgingly, gave the tiniest nod of his head to signify his cooperation.
Loki grinned wickedly. Now the fun could begin. Leaning forward, he brought his face closer to Steve's.
"What should I ask about first? Your past? Your thoughts? Perhaps your deepest, darkest secret; that could be fun." He paused and Steve saw the tip of his tongue swipe across his bottom lip to wet it. He gulped. "Noooo," Loki purred, shaking his head and grinning. "You are far more complicated than that; I want to know something about you that no one else would know… Have you ever had a woman?" he asked suddenly, and the question was so sporadic that he could see confusion pass over the Captain's features. He continued: "Or perhaps a man? Have you ever lain with anyone? Had them? Been taken by them?" His grip around his throat lessened and he brushed his thumb over Steve's Adam's apple. The touch felt cold and yet burned against his skin as the implications of Loki's words caused a sense of dread to pass through him. And yet… hearing the god speak of such wanton acts also sparked the tiniest fire of rebellion in the pit of his belly, intriguing him. He cursed himself for reacting this way.
Loki let his eyes fall onto the broad shoulders of the man in front of him; the toned muscles that protruded from beneath his shirt, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed unevenly with fear. The mortal was stunning, and he doubted he would ever look as beautiful as he did now, in his state of terror – how the fear coursing through him made his blue eyes all the more enticing.
"No, of course you haven't," he observed tauntingly. "I can tell by the blush of your cheeks at the mere mention of it – how your mortal body betrays you." Loki's eyes twinkled. His hand dropped from his neck to his shoulders, and his fingers dragged lightly over the thin material of his shirt. Steve felt the blood rush to his face, swell in his head, and he felt feverish. The god's words were mocking and cruel, and the worst part was they were true. He had never lain with anyone; had never felt enveloped and full and pleasured. He had never even given into the urges to give himself pleasure in the past, for he was a gentleman and… he gulped. A man of his time.
"Captain America…Do you not wish to know how it can feel? There is not even the smallest part of you that is curious?" Loki continued lowly, as he felt Steve's eyes refuse to meet his. Reaching out, he took the Captain's chin in his left hand and lifted it so he would look at him. He knew what his words were doing, what sort of web he was crafting and ensnaring the man into. And he loved it. "Your eyes have been stitched shut, Captain," he purred, his tone menacing. "By my hand, they will be opened. You cannot truly know pleasure until you have given into your most carnal instinct. Do you wish to live, Captain?"
Eyes wide and unsure, Steve nodded. He didn't want to die. Loki flashed a seductive grin and the soldier averted his eyes again in shame. This wasn't happening… "Then you must first understand what it means to be alive."
"Please don't. You don't have to do this. Please."
Loki gritted his teeth together. Steve's words were weak and pitiful. This was not what he wanted. He wanted the soldier to fight back, to try; despite threatening him with his life, the Trickster had assumed that he would not give in so easily. When he had commanded him to kneel before, he was met with a confident, "Not today" and an assault. Somewhere inside Steve Rogers was still Captain America, and the idea that all it took were a few simple commands and a small display of violence to douse the fire inside of him to fight back was unacceptable. Loki wanted that fire and that hatred and that poisonous gaze that he had been met with in Germany. To truly break him, he first had to be at his strongest. This pathetic display would not do.
He had to change his tactics. Clearly, he had to provoke the soldier.
Sighing impatiently, he retrieved his hands off of him and stepped back. Steve perked up at the retreat and looked to the god questioningly. Had he changed his mind? Was he going to let him go after all? Once again, he considered his options and wondered if he could still make a run for it. Then in a flash of green light that cascaded over his entire body, Steve's mouth fell open.
Loki no longer stood there; in his place was now a woman far too familiar to the soldier. Jet black hair was now brown and soft; green eyes now brown, with a feminine but strong nose and full, pouting lips. Her military garments made Steve want to vomit, and he probably would have, had he not gritted his teeth together at the sudden fury he felt welling in his chest.
"Change back," he warned in a low, vicious tone.
The form in front of him remained the same. "This is your Peggy, is it not?" she asked, and her voice was like music. It made Steve's heart ache. She looked down to her body, her hands pressed against her hips as she admired her work. "Courtesy of Agent Barton – really, there is little that S.H.I.E.L.D does not seem to know about you." She looked back up at him and gave him a sly, knowing smile. Steve's fists clenched.
"Stop it."
"Do you think that she ever let herself be taken by a man?" she then asked. Her hands began to trail up her stomach as she spoke. "You always wanted her, I know you did. Why would you not? She… is… luscious." She ran her hands over her breasts, firm and full beneath her clothing. Each touch tore Steve open. His breathing came out in rough, angry spurts. Inside, Loki revelled. "How do you think she liked it?" she wondered aloud, her left hand beginning to slide back down her abdomen towards her waist. Steve's lungs squeezed painfully.
"Change back," he almost shouted, his voice far more frantic now.
"A strong, confident woman like your Peggy," she continued as if she hadn't been interrupted. "She probably enjoyed it rough… Would you have given it to her rough, Captain? Would you have had it in you?" Her hand slid against that area where her legs parted, and applied a light pressure there.
Tears began to pool in the corners of Steve's eyes as his face reddened. A soft moan escaped Loki's lips – Peggy's lips – and the sound of it pushed Steve over the edge.
"CHANGE BACK!" he roared, at the same time that the figure's lips parted again and the breathy words, "Oh, Steve," slipped out. In an instant, Steve was off the couch, and his hands gripped onto the collar of Peggy's blouse and shoved the figure backwards until they both slammed into a wall. On impact, the green glow reappeared and Loki returned. But instead of anger or fear, there was a wicked, excited grin on the god's face.
"There it is! There is the Captain!" he shouted happily over Steve's angry growls as the latter struggled to keep the god pushed against the wall. He wound his fist back and held it there, wanting to strike him but something unknown stopping him.
"You're sick!" he shouted, his coiled arm trembling.
"Possibly!" Loki retorted, and then surprised the Captain by using the opportunity to lean in and plant a swift kiss on his lips. Stunned, Steve faltered before letting out a fierce cry and swinging his fist at the god's face. Loki dodged it, and then swung back up and planted Steve another rough, mocking kiss.
Steve couldn't think; the god's actions were nothing he had ever fought against before and he didn't know how to adapt. He felt a loss of control as his body took over, throwing blind punches in the god's direction but constantly missing. And every time he did, the god would practically dance around his limbs and continue to answer his attempts with chaste, taunting kisses.
Luck seemed to finally come to him when he managed to grasp Loki's collar back into his hands. He felt Loki's own hands take hold of his shirt. Their movements were heated and forceful; Steve trying to push Loki away while the god tried to pull him closer. He laughed at the soldier's outrage. Grabbing hold of the back of his head, Loki dug his fingers cruelly into Steve's hair and yanked the soldier towards him, crushing their lips together. Steve's eyes widened as he tried to push the Trickster off of him, but the god was stronger. Why were his defenses failing him? His breath caught in his chest as the god's fingers held his face in place, his lips sliding sensually across his own. He almost kissed back, but then stopped himself. What was he doing!?
After what felt like an eternity, Loki finally broke away and sneered at the dazed expression on the Captain's face. Snapping back into reality (and wondering when he had ever left it), Steve tightened his grip around the god's collar and resumed trying to push him away. But his actions were sluggish and didn't exude as much strength as he knew he had inside of him. What was the god doing to him? Why wasn't he stopping him when he had the power to?
It was a battle for dominance. They stood there for a moment's pause, both struggling to subdue the other; Loki's eyes clouded with lust and Steve's glazed with a confused sort of anger. Both men panted, their hearts beating wildly. And then the pause was broken as he felt a sudden, foreign pressure between his legs. Loki thrusted his hand forward and palmed his crotch, squeezing tightly, but not in a way to cause pain. That same gesture had been violent and agonizing the first time; this time, it was something of an entirely different nature. Steve gasped at the action, his eyebrows knitting and his lips parting ever so slightly. He stared at the god of mischief in confusion. He knew this was wrong and he needed to stop it and this was the enemy and why wasn't he stopping it? Horrified, he could feel the blood overflowing in his brain abandon it in favour of rushing to his groin, and his cock began to grow stiff beneath the god's hand. No no no no no…
He tried to say something – anything – but Loki applied more pressure before he could, and whatever words he'd intended to say only instead came out as a sharp intake of air. His cock twitched. Loki's eyes flashed and his smile became devilish, feeling the form of the soldier's member come to life and film the palm of his hand. He wasn't surprised at how quickly it took for Steve to become rock hard – he almost laughed. He really was completely inexperienced. He squeezed again, this time moving his hand in a downward motion, to stroke the stiff bulge until he could feel the head of it beneath the pad of his thumb. Another short, strangled breath got caught in the soldier's throat. Loki watched with fascination as Steve's eyelids drooped and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Loki's own erection pushed against the front of his pants, and it ached.
He dove in and met Steve's lips with his own, and his were hot and moist and Steve's were cold and dry and this intrigued the Trickster, because their personalities were the complete opposite. He could hear the small whimpers in Steve's throat, signifying his desire to break away, but his body told a different tale – his hands still clenching tightly onto the collar of Loki's coat and his cock practically trembling. It almost felt like he might have even been unknowingly pulling the god closer. Loki pushed his tongue against Steve's lips, willing them to part, but at that moment, Steve squeezed his eyes shut hard and used the last of his resolve to press his lips into a firm line, denying any entrance.
With a soft growl, Loki quickly found the waistband of the soldier's pyjama pants and slid his hand beneath the fabric of them and his boxers, reclaiming the bloated muscle and giving it a purposeful jerk. Eyes flew open in surprise and the mouth automatically dropped as another sharp gasp constricted in Steve's throat; and then Loki took advantage of this opening, and plunged his tongue deep into the mortal, sliding forcefully against his and kissing furiously. His hand continued to assault the throbbing member at a pace that opposed the force with which he kissed the soldier. To his pleasant surprise, even as Steve weakly attempted to struggle, Loki could feel his tongue pushed back uncertainly against his own (whether he realized it or not), and he was virginal in his movements and so innocent and pure and everything that Loki wanted to taint and destroy.
Loki bit down on the Captain's bottom lip. It sent a wave of electricity throughout Steve's body, scaring him but shrouding his brain in a foggy haze that he wasn't sure whether was from fear anymore or if it was now desire. He had never felt this kind of lust. And it was wrong, it was so wrong, but the god's hand continued to torturously stroke his dick and it was making rational thought impossible. He broke away from the god's lips and forced him back a bit. He needed to regain some control and he knew he needed to fight back but how he should fight back no longer made sense to him anymore; this went against his morals but what were those again, exactly? This was wrong; this was so wrong. But the god flashed him a triumphant grin and those eyes were so alluring and that wicked tongue, such an expert – and that hand, that damned hand, kept moving along him and bringing him closer to something that he didn't know but he wanted to find out, and forgive me, Lord, this is wrong, so wrong, but he wanted it. He felt perverted and taken advantage of and somehow, he liked it.
He could no longer think, his body now acting on autopilot. The Trickster could see it, could see the Captain struggle on both sides of an internal battle. He was not at all surprised when Steve was the one to suddenly pull him closer again, and kissed him so hard that his teeth crashed into the god's lips and would have caused him pain had he not been more than a mortal. Loki groaned appreciatively as the Captain's hands moved into his hair and desperately tugged at it, kissing him with fervor and helplessness. He was no longer his own man. He was lost in the sensations, and Loki laughed against the lips that kissed with a hunger that seemed to take over the soldier's entire being.
Loki had won. There was no going back now for the soldier. Everything that he stood for from this point forward would be contaminated by the Trickster and how he had perverted his name and his morals. Captain America stood for something distinct, something traditional and patriotic - and this was not it.
"Are you ready to live, Captain?" Loki breathed between kisses. Steve could only respond with barely audible groans, but the god could feel a feverish nod against his face. He reached for the bottom of the soldier's white shirt and began to pull it up his body; Steve's hands reached over his and with a quickness that made Loki chuckle, pulled the shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor. And then lips were reclaimed. Green light shimmered over Loki's body as with one fluid motion, his clothes vanished. He took Steve's hands from the sides of his face and placed them against his hard abdomen, and the soldier didn't even open his eyes in surprise at the sudden nakedness. Instead, he groaned again and pulled the god against him, his hands reaching around and pressing flat against his back.
The way in which the Captain was lost in his senses was almost adorable to the Trickster. Loki knew full well what he was doing; the pleasure was, and would be, intense – but he had hundreds of years' worth of sexual experience under his belt, as well as an immeasurable amount of self-control. There was a reason why he had always preferred mind over matter, and when this was over, Steve Rogers would have wished he'd invested in the same mantra. But he, on the other hand, had gone from fighting him to wanting him in less than five minutes. Humans were such fickle creatures.
"Touch me," the mischief god ordered, his own cock swollen and dying to be stimulated. The soldier obeyed without a second thought. Clumsily, his hand found it and began moving along the length in uneven strokes. Loki moaned slightly at the initial touch, but his brows furrowed. "No, not like that," he said between more kisses. His gripped harder onto Steve's dick and with an added pressure, demonstrated what sort of rhythm he wanted. The motion produced a startled cry from the soldier's lips. "Like this," Loki breathed.
Steve was too lost in his own pleasure, as it pulsated from his genitals and licked throughout his limbs. His head fell back and his mouth hung ajar as rough, uneven breaths escaped his throat. Loki yanked his hand and roughly closed it back around his own member, bringing his lips to Steve's ear and threateningly whispering, "I said, touch me!" He dug his teeth into the thin flesh below his ear and pinched the skin, provoking an erotic mixture of a shocked cry and a moan from the soldier.
Loki sighed as he felt Steve heed his command, his hand gripping onto him tightly and doing his best to mimic the same movements he was lavishing onto his cock. Steve trembled violently beneath his touch, still too lost in his clouded mind to pull himself back together and realize the immorality of what they were doing. Each pump of Loki's fist produced more pre-come from the tip of his dick, to the point where Loki's hand was completely sleeked with his juices. Loki watched intently at the way the soldier's eyes visibly rolled back into his head from beneath his closed eyelids, his eyebrows scrunched tightly together and sweat misting his forehead and upper lip. He looked so lost – in concentration, in the senses, in ecstasy. Mixed with the building pleasure from his stimulated cock, Loki's own eyes fluttered backwards as he released a low, animal growl.
Both moving their hands at an increasingly quick and rough pace, they once again became a graceless flurry of lips, tongues, and teeth. Loki could feel that familiar sense of pressure build up in the pit of his belly, but he still had one more thing he needed to do to break the Captain. Taking his glistening hand from Steve's cock – which brought out a desperate whimper from the soldier – he quickly reached behind him and without warning, shoved his index finger into the Captain's heat.
Something was lost now – or more so, something was regained. Steve suddenly pushed out of the kiss as his eyes flew wide at the intrusion. Loki was no longer grins and laughter, but now had a serious look of concentration on his face as his finger moved deeply into him, and then back out; deeply in, and then back out. The cloud was beginning to fade and Loki could tell by the clearness that had returned to Steve's eyes that he was coming back. His hand froze on the god's member.
"Wait –" Steve began to say, panic laced in his voice, but by then, Loki had plunged a second finger inside of him and continued to probe and massage and explore. The rest of the words were cut off as his body continued to betray him, Steve's eyes flying into the back of his head again and his throat constricting with a sound that Loki figured could have been from pleasure and pain.
And indeed, there was pain; there was burning, and stretching, and what felt like slight tearing. The combination of the pre-come that had slicked Loki's hand was now mixed with the faintest amount of blood and all it did was further lubricate his digits, making them slide in and out with greater ease. Steve's knees gave out at the intrusion, and Loki's free arm wrapped around his waist and held him in place, unable to fall and unable to break free.
"You are mine, Captain," he growled into Steve's ear, and Steve groaned uncomfortably as the fingers inside him scissored, stretching his entrance and making him feel like he was being unravelled.
"N-No," he answered through clenched teeth.
"Yes," Loki hissed, and his fingers buried themselves inside, all the way to his knuckles. With one fluid motion, they curled expertly, and dug themselves ruthlessly against Steve's prostate. The Captain practically screamed at the feeling, as pain quickly disappeared and an overwhelming jolt of mind-numbing pleasure was sent straight up into his brain. Loki moaned at the sound and began to rub at that bundle of nerves with rigorous pressure. He stroked and he assaulted, roughly nudging the soldier's head to the side and clamping down onto the exposed flesh of his neck. Steve's eyes were wide, and all thoughts to resist became futile as once again, his brain shut off and all he could focus on – all he knew in that moment – was how Loki was taking over him.
A series of moans ripped out of the soldier's throat, vibrating against Loki's face, still buried against his neck. They built in volume until they became one continuous shriek, and the Trickster could feel the soldier's walls clenching around his fingers and the hard twitches of the soldier's cock pressed against his stomach.
"My God!" Steve shouted. "I – unnggh!"
And suddenly, the god's fingers retreated and Steve was spun around. The hand that had held him onto his waist was now pushing cruelly into the soldier's back, pinning him face-first onto the cushions of the couch. He wanted to scream again, to plead with his enemy, but now he no longer knew whether the plea would be to stop, or not to. Instead, all he could do was moan pitifully, the sounds coming out muffled against the cushions. He could hear Loki's cold laughter from behind him.
Loki stared down at the beautiful body at his disposal; at the perfect back and the perfect muscles that sculpted the soldier's body as he panted and arched beneath the god's hand, at the muscular buttocks that was his to take, and that gorgeous mortal face that was pressed uncomfortably against the couch, twisted and eyes squeezed shut as the faintest of erotic sounds slipped past his kiss-swollen lips.
"You want more, Captain?" Loki taunted, tracing the fingers of his free hand around the rim of Steve's opening. He heard a gasp, and then the body shuddered, and Steve's head nodded wordlessly against the cushions.
He pushed two fingers back inside, this time not even caring to build the soldier up.
"Ugghh!" Steve cried.
Loki wasted no time in returning to Steve's prostate, grazing it over and over until it was one fluid, constant circle around the small, fleshy button. The soldier began to spasm, and he possessed no thought, no logic, no morals. He moaned and squirmed wantonly, like a whore begging for release.
"Tell me," Loki ordered huskily, slowly undulating his hips against the soldier's butt cheek, the friction it gave his rock-hard erection causing him to moan in delight. He stopped caressing Steve's prostate for a moment, only to stab at it again with force.
"God!" Steve cursed again in shock. But his lips parted and he heard himself begging, "More, p-please… more!"
His wish was granted. Fingers slipped out only to feel himself be suddenly penetrated and stretched open to his fullest capacity as Loki roughly pushed his dick inside of him. It hurt and it shook him to the core but he felt so dirty and undone and he wanted it. Needed it.
There was no coaxing, no pleasantries. Loki pounded ruthlessly into the tight fleshy walls, the only lubricate coming from the pre-come that was leaking out of his tip. It pained Steve, and the less-than-slick friction pained Loki, but he liked the pain and it only encouraged him to seek out more. He gripped onto the soldier's hip with one hand, fingers digging into the skin and drawing out bruises, while the other hand continued to pin Steve down into the couch. He pulled out until he was almost completely unsheathed, and then slammed back into him; his balls slapped against the back of Steve's and the young mortal screamed. Loki repeated the action, noticing as he slid back out that there was the smallest trace of blood now coating his cock. He groaned at the sight before plummeting back in, producing another loud, unabashed cry from the Captain.
As he was abused, fucked, being filled to the brim, Steve could only wish that the mischief god would provide his throbbing cock with some much-needed attention. He tried to twist his arm beneath him so he could stroke himself, but Loki's hand left his back and pinned it down to the couch. The position he was being forced to keep was incredibly uncomfortable. He was being punished, deprived of that satisfaction; he just wasn't sure anymore what for. He bit his lip to keep from cursing, teeth driving so hard against the soft flesh that it pierced the skin and bled. This was excruciating. This was unbearable – but in the most delicious way possible.
"Captain…" he heard Loki grunt, the god's movements starting to become frantic as he thrusted with a barbarous staccato rhythm. And suddenly the tip of his cock was brushing unforgivably against Steve's prostate, so hard that he forgot how to breathe. He saw stars, and they were discombobulating and they were glorious. There was heat, way too much heat to fathom, and pressure building up in that one spot that his enemy mercilessly bucked against.
He was brought to the precipice, high above the world where no one could see him or judge him or pretend to know him – and then he was sent spiralling downwards as the most remarkable explosion went off deep within his body, seizing his muscles and paralyzing his mind. Streams of milky white shot from the tip of his cock spastically, and it was all he could do to keep from passing out.
"Oh, God!"
"Yes…"
Loki never took his eyes off of the Captain's face as the body beneath him convulsed. The look on the soldier's face, as his eyes bulged from their sockets, the brows knitted together, and the lips forming into a perfect "O", was priceless. He knew when the first wave of the Captain's orgasm – his very first orgasm – rippled through his body by the way his muscles clenched desperately around the Trickster's cock. It sucked all of the air from his lungs, leaving the man to writhe in silence beneath him, unmade by the euphoria that burst inside of his body.
The Captain was broken. The thought alone sent Loki over the edge, and he thrusted into Steve three more times before coming with a breathy snarl, his seed spilling into the Captain and warming his now-softening dick. Steve, still trapped in the lingering waves of his ecstasy, panted deeply beneath him, struggling for air. Loki smiled – a strange smile, that could have also passed as a frown - feeling slightly lightheaded and breathing roughly himself. Gingerly, he ran the tips of his fingers down the Captain's spine, lightly scraping against the skin with the edge of his nails, making the mortal shudder.
Knowing his work here was done, he pulled out of the soldier, his body instantly clothed through a brief wave of green magic. "I told you you would kneel," he sneered. The last thing Steve heard was the maniacal sound of laughter, and then there was silence.
…
You know that feeling where suddenly, inexplicably, you know you are alone? Steve Rogers felt it then. When his breathing had stabilized and his heart rate had finally slowed, he looked backin a panic, only to see that the Trickster was no longer there. Frowning, Steve pushed himself up off the couch, wincing at the stiffness in his neck and the sudden throbbing in the arm that had been twisted so cruelly. With weak legs, he got to his feet – and the sudden sensation of the god's seed escaping him and dripping slowly down his inner thigh made him dizzy with nausea. His state of mind had returned to him; no longer a slave to the senses' appetites, the reality of what had just happened hit him, and it hit him hard.
Like a madman, he ran to the bathroom and practically threw himself into the shower. The water, it had to be hot, it had to wash the god away, but even though it scalded and burned the soldier, and he cried out in pain as it sprayed against his skin, it still wasn't hot enough. The remainder of the god's liquids dripped down his leg and washed away down the drain, but it wasn't enough. He scrubbed at his skin until it was raw, but it just wasn't enough. He gripped his head in his hands and tugged at his hair by the roots and screamed until his throat ached, but it just wasn't enough. Then he lowered himself and sat in the tub, legs curled up to his chest, face buried against his knees, and he stayed there until the water became freezing cold.
Eventually, sore and exhausted, he limped to his bedroom. He had no more resolve, he thought bitterly. The god had managed to fuck it right out of him. How could he let this happen? What was he now? How was he supposed to walk into S.H.I.E.L.D tomorrow and pretend to be anyone's leader? He still felt dirty, only now it wasn't a pleasant thought. What was wrong with him!? That was not who he was, who he was supposed to be. Tears threatening to spill from his eyes, the Captain trembled with rage as he forced himself not to consider that, maybe, he had it wrong; that maybe, who he had always thought he was was the real lie.
Shamefully, he looked to the closet that held his Captain America uniform, and with an angry pang in his chest, wondered if he would ever be able to wear it again. To do so would be a lie; he wasn't what the world thought he was. He wanted to be… all those good things and more. But his enemy had proven that he was no better than the people he fought against. He no longer knew what to do. He no longer knew who he was.
He opened the door to the closet, sighing. The first thing that caught his eye was his shield. His eyes grew wide in horror as his mouth hung open, and it wasn't the first time that night that his breath constricted within his lungs. He took a few steps back and then collapsed to the floor, never able to take his eyes off of the vibranium disk; scrambling to get away but knowing that now, he never could. Burned into the metal, in shaky strokes, was a single word:
MINE
…
Please feel free to send me requests for any sort of smutty situation you'd like to see Steve and Loki in. Since these will all be one-shots, they can be of ANY nature you'd prefer, in any universe. I do have ideas for future chapters, and rest assured, not all of them will be as negative and violent as this one was. Some will be loving, others will be similar to this; some will take place again in canon Avengers plots, while others will be made up entirely. Some can take place in alternate universes; for example, I'm playing with the idea of Loki, pre-finding out about being a Frost Giant, hooking up with Steve, or perhaps one where Steve is an Asgardian and they're in their teenage years, or one where they're both mortals (neither Captain American nor the God of Mischief) in an everyday world, or where Loki is a woman, or where Steve is the Dom and Loki the Sub, and vice versa, etc. YOU GET THE PICTURE! The more requests for random scenarios I can get, the more imaginative one-shots I can create. Don't forget, there's no need for cohesive plot, so anything goes! One person messaged me asking if there can be a straight chapter of nothing but them fooling around in a bubble bath, so you get the idea. xD