Chapter Text
Anger. Anger has many outlets.
Not all are healthy.
Loki's outlets had not been healthy at all. At least, not in recent times. He was well past caring now. He only cared about letting it out in some manner.
The first recipient of his anger had been Thanos, of course... who he had snatched from his high floating chair and thrown in a dying star with the help of the Tesseract. It was foolish of the Titan to have expected Loki to simply deliver an Infinity Stone to him.
Loki had then thought of dealing with Odin the same way... but... going back to Asgard was not an option right now. There was too much pain attached with the realm, and Loki was all about anger right now.
So the next recipient of his anger had to be the so-called mightiest heroes of Midgard… the same ones who had celebrated their tenuous victory over him.
Despite outmaneuvering the mad Titan, Loki had still failed on certain levels during the battle of Midgard. That green fool had smashed him hard enough to make him vulnerable. And the rest of the group, including his brother, had captured him. Thor had almost taken him back to Asgard... where he was sure to be executed by Odin.
But now that he had the Tesseract in his hold, and no one, not even Thanos, could touch him... he could go anywhere, and do anything.
So now, he was bent on having some fun at the expense of those who had wronged him on Midgard...
Reaching Tony's Stark's tower was quite easy. It reached up into the sky like a grotesque replica of a phallus. Loki had half a mind to completely dismantle it, but no... that would be too easy.
He wanted to play with the Avengers. To dismantle their minds a bit. To drive them as mad as he had been driven in his trials.
So with that intent, he entered the tower and messed with its power supply. The bright, nearly bustling building suddenly went dark. Loki took not just its main power line, he drained all of its back-ups too, including that artificial embodiment of Stark's ego-- Jarvis .
He was quite thankful to Barton for imparting the basic knowledge to him regarding contemporary Midgardian technology. The rest... he just figured out himself. It wasn’t that hard.
Now, as he sauntered through the dark corridors of Stark's home and hub, he chuckled to himself as he listened to the chaos all around him. He simply needed to find Stark's personal quarters now, and then he could begin his mischief...
You had been interviewing the enigmatic Tony Stark in his room when the lights went out.
He had just gotten done explaining how he had figured out how to get the arc reactor to work during his time imprisoned in Afghanistan when the lights flickered, then died. Even the emergency lights didn’t come on. In the pitch blackness, you heard Tony let out a nervous laugh.
You knew that sound. That was the sound people made when something was seriously wrong, but they didn’t want to panic the company.
It was a familiar reaction in your line of work. As a journalist for your entire career, you thrived in high-intensity, dangerous situations. You had been in Libya and Egypt during the Arab Spring. You had been in Hong Kong during the protests against China. You had been in war zones and seedy underbellies and guerrilla resistance camps all over the world, documenting and shedding light on these horrific, terrifying realities.
Just another day in the office.
You had agreed to do this in-depth piece on the Avengers as something of a break. Your last feature - following child soldiers in Zimbabwe - had left you more than a little drained, and you needed something a bit less intense before finding your next adrenaline rush that you could turn into a Pulitzer Prize winning story. You were living in the Avengers’ Tower for a month to understand this mysterious, powerful team of superhumans. Easy, you thought. It would probably be dull.
Now, you weren’t so sure.
“Didn’t you say the arc reactor powered this building?” you asked Tony, still blinded by the darkness. “It’s supposed to last for centuries, isn’t it?”
“Yea, it is,” he responded, and you heard his chair scrape across the floor as he stood. “I need to go check this out. We’ll pick this up later, ok?”
“Sure,” you responded, keeping your voice even, even though your heart began to pound. Something was happening; your instincts could feel it. But without sight, you couldn’t know what it was.
Loki heard the conversation in silence, just sitting in the pitch darkness of the spacious room. Apparently, Stark was enough of a narcissist to call someone to interview him regarding his work and what all it entailed.
What a bore...
Loki watched him tap on his watch to get it to glow, but it didn't. Loki had destroyed its inner workings just as he had entered the room. Now, with his superior natural vision, he could see Stark panicking.
The woman sitting with him was a bit calmer, but he could see her shoulders and back going stiff, as if she could sense that something was wrong. How utterly amusing.
As Stark tried to leave the room, bumping into furniture and other things, the woman tried to show him the way. Alas, her phone's battery was also gone... due to some very unfortunate magical circumstances.
They struggled to reach the door together, and watching them almost coaxed a laugh from Loki. It was akin to pulling the strings of puppets, really. It was what he had wanted to do during his attempts to take Midgard. Had he not been so magically fatigued and recovering from torture, he'd have actually done it.
While Stark and this woman finally reached the door and headed out, Loki followed them like a shadow--silent and creeping.
In the winding corridors that led them out of Stark's private office, Loki formulated a plan to deal with Stark. Quietly, he opened a door and pushed him into a hall that contained a staircase.
While the woman chattered nervously about the annoying power outages from grid collapses in her hometown, Tony Stark fell down several flights of stairs.
She stopped talking immediately upon hearing the cries of distress from Stark. As she turned in the direction of the screams, Loki observed her keenly.
She was quite fetching, if he were being honest. And seeing her there, alone, with wide-open eyes and body trembling in fear... it roused something dark inside him--his predatory, monstrous instincts...
And his trying time with the mad Titan had ensured that now he had no qualms about exploring them.
As they were rising to the fore like a tidal wave, he simply wanted to devour her...
He smirked.
How apt for the moment, for he simply could devour her. No one knew he was here, and no one could even guess it.
He was free to do as he pleased.
"Don't worry, he's not dead," he said, his voice calm yet dark. "You won't be either, if you come quietly with me."
You jumped at the sound of that dark, silken voice, instinctively spinning around to try and see the source of the sound. It was useless - the darkness was like a physical, opaque presence; you couldn’t even see lights coming in from the windows. Had the entire city lost power?
And the fact that both Tony’s watch and your phone suddenly died at the same time sent a chill down your spine. This wasn’t just a power outage. Was it an EMP attack? Solar flares? Magic? Something else?
You forced your breathing to steady and backed against a wall, feeling along it, trying to find something you could use to defend yourself as you responded in the most even tone you could manage.
In all your experience with dangerous situations, you knew that sounding afraid would make things much, much worse.
“Who are you? And where are you planning on taking me?”
Loki chuckled, stepping closer to her. "Who I am is none of your concern. And where I'll take you is not relevant either."
As he said that, he closed the distance between them and grasped her throat, blocking her airway very gently, for now. He leaned into her while she trembled all over, his nose running along her cheekbone.
She smelled like rain and wildflowers, fresh and clean. It made him hard instantly .
His grip on her throat tightened, and he lifted her off the floor, causing her feet to dangle. Her high heeled, rather pointy shoes fell off with a loud clatter. He didn't care for them.
"Now, be a good girl for me and refrain from screaming," he said, pulling her off the wall and right against his body, his other arm snaking around her waist. "If you don't, I will gag you."
With that, he began to carry her off to the nearest spare conference room. He had seen plenty of them while she and Stark had struggled to move forward in the corridor.
You didn’t struggle or fight him as he handled you and carried you away from Stark’s quarters. Keeping your cool was critical - any resistance had to be targeted and purposeful. When his fingers had wrapped around your throat, you felt the adrenaline charge through your system - the threat, the peril...the thrill ...
The familiar feeling of fear mixed with excitement filled you. You had to stay alert, aware, responsive. Your life was on the line.
You felt alive . It’s why you did what you did...
You swallowed hard as your breathing became labored, but your hands gripped his forearm, trying to keep him from squeezing any tighter. You couldn’t speak as you felt the pressure build behind your eyes, your pulse hammering beneath his touch.
Soon, you heard a door close and lock nearby, and you assumed he had taken you to a private room. Questions spun through your mind, but until he released your throat, all you could do was wonder...
Loki let her go after they were securely locked inside the room. She stumbled and nearly fell, but she grabbed the long table just in time. As she leaned over it to regain her balance, he moved up behind her and lifted the straight-cut skirt she wore.
One hand pulled on her panties, while the other pressed her against the table, not letting her straighten herself.
Just as her panties slid down her ankles, his fingers slid between her legs. The sudden intimate touch ignited her struggles. Alas, it was too late. He was already playing with her clit, pinching it slightly between his fingers.
When she started creating some noise in response, he simply slapped that nub of flesh.
"Shut up," he hissed, making her jump as he slapped her ass next. "The only sounds you're allowed to utter are the sounds of pleasure. Or else I'll choke the life out of you."
Of course, he needed to instill sufficient fear in her. Not that he couldn't make her comply without it. It was just amusing to play with her in this manner. It fed his dark instinct to completely break her.
You fell over the table, your hair falling in front of your face, and felt him begin to violate you with his fingers. You felt yourself beginning to shake from the adrenaline, holding the table with a death grip to keep yourself from flailing and fighting, though your legs trembled and kicked instinctively.
That voice...you knew that voice...but you couldn’t place it. The coherence you relied on to connect those dots was rapidly dissolving as he forced himself on you.
Oh FUCK...
“I’ll… I’ll find out who you are...” you moaned, hoping that would shock him into revealing more about his identity. You heard your own voice breaking with a unique mix of fear, desire, and that undercurrent of constant curiosity that made you so good at your job. The pleasure wound its way from your pussy to your gut and lower back, and without intending to, you leaned back against him, closing your eyes against the darkness.
Despite the compromising circumstances....this could be one hell of a story.
If he didn’t murder you first.
“Why—” you tried to ask, but he jammed his fingers up inside you and you screamed, falling forward again and moaning.
He didn’t want to talk...but you wanted to know. You had to know.
“Why are you doing this?!” you managed to gasp out before his ministrations stole the words from you again.
The troubling thing was… he seemed to know exactly what to do to get you aroused. It made you breathless.
"Did I not tell you to shut up?" he asked, his voice all gravelly and cruel. "Or do you lack brains to understand me, pet?"
He didn't let her reply. His fingers closed around her throat again, and this time, he choked her harder, not letting her breathe as he pulled her back from the table. Holding her against his body, he kept her windpipe blocked. All this while, his fingers were constantly working her over.
"Mayhap I'll answer you... but only after you come on my fingers." He eased his hold on her throat just enough to let her suck in a breath, tightening it again as she did so. "There you go, just enough air to keep you functioning. I’m very generous, you see."
At first, she grasped his forearm tightly, trying to pull it away from her neck. Alas, his superior strength was no match for hers, and so, after a while, her poor hands just dropped.
He kept blocking her airway as he brought her closer and closer to her orgasm, letting her breathe only a few times in between. He kept it in synchronicity with his fingers in her cunt. The moment he let her breathe, his fingers worked even harder. As a result, she was unable to take a full breath at that moment. It kept her well under his control.
"Do you realize that your cunt tightens every time I choke you?" He chuckled in her ear, feeling the very first wisps of her orgasm around his fingers. She was clutching them like a vice now, much to his continuing amusement. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you..."
I’m going to enjoy breaking you…
That threat shook you to the core. And yet… you felt your pussy clench right as he uttered it.
You were beginning to lose control.
Between the choking and his fingers breaching every sacred area inside you, you found yourself twisting and groaning and fighting, unable to help yourself. You knew you shouldn’t be, for resistance was exactly what he wanted from you. You hated the thought of giving him the satisfaction. But he was hell-bent on breaking you - he’d made that very clear.
And it was working.
With each gasp of air, you felt lightheaded as the rush of oxygen hit you. Then that terrible pleasure would come thundering back, more intense and powerful than before. Your gurgling moans contrasted with his heavy breathing, and you felt your climax coiling tighter and tighter.
With a strained squeal, you came apart, your entire body clenching and trembling as he held you firmly against the table, blocking your airway, pressing against every nerve ending in your pussy. It wasn’t until you felt cold wetness on your legs that you realized you had gushed all over his hand and your clothing...
"That's my good girl," he whispered right against her ear, his lips brushing her lobe as she shook, still caught in the throes of her orgasm.
If he were to be honest, she looked very lovely like this. So helpless and taken with pleasure... he longed to play with her again and again.
He eased his grip on her throat then, letting her finally breathe. But his fingers remained inside her, deep and snug, still pressing against her sensitive spot, not letting her fully come down from her peak of pleasure.
"You came like a desperate slut, and still, your cunt clutches my fingers hungrily," he rasped, renewing his movements inside her. "I wonder how much I can push you. I'm certainly going to try..."
She whimpered in response, even whispering a soft 'why' again. He smiled, nipping her earlobe, pushing another finger inside her gushing channel.
"Because there's nothing to stop me from doing it. Because I dare ," he answered her, pulling his hands from her throat and cunt at the same time.
She fell forward again, like a pathetic ragdoll, trembling and panting while he stood over her, eyeing her coolly as he began to loosen his clothes.