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Published:
2021-07-24
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2021-07-27
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4,920
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2/2
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That Old Black Magic

Summary:

In which formidable CEO Loki Odinson, the powerful head of Asgard Industries for some reason unfathomable to you, is a relentless flirt and steady customer at your cafe. Halloween is your favorite holiday, and Loki intends to make it one you'll never forget.

Notes:

From another taunting prompt from uglywombat because she's like that.

I know it's like 327 degrees in most parts of the world and half my state is on fire, so it's no surprise that I'm longing for my favorite holiday- Halloween. And given Loki's mischievous nature, I suspect he loves it, too.

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

 

 

“He’s here again.”

“Shuddup,” you mumbled, trying to keep your lips from moving because since you were certain the beautiful man in the bespoke suit standing at your counter could totally read your mind, reading your lips would be child’s play. “Just go get his order, Susan.”

“Oh, I can’t,” she sang happily, “it’s time for my break!” Ripping off her apron, Susan gleefully patted your shoulder. “I’m doing this for you! You don’t want to be in violation of Manhattan labor laws!” 

Oh, you hated Susan. She was absolutely not getting a Halloween bonus this year. Oh, no. Furtively smoothing your ponytail, you dodged the skull topiary and the witches’ hats, suspended from the ceiling with fishing line, making it look like they were floating around the cafe. Your cafe, thank you very much. Where you served 15 different flavors of gourmet hot chocolate and decadent baked goods that were so sublime that just yesterday, the Vice President of JP Morgan Chase started crying when he discovered you were sold out of French Toast Muffins.

And also where Halloween was deservedly the most important holiday of the year and September and October meant your charming cafe was draped in pumpkins and beautiful little bottles full of potions with labels in spidery handwriting and a Halloween Tree.

No one seemed to enjoy the season and the cafe’s participation more than Loki Odinson, CEO of Asgard Industries and currently standing in front of your pretty hand-lettered chalkboard, eyeing today’s hot chocolate flavors.

“Ah, there you are, darling.” He smiled down at you. Down, because even though you were tall for a woman, this beautiful man was at least 6”5. “Do I want to try the…” he scanned the board again, pursing those perfect lips, “the Jacques Torres Hot Chocolate or the Salted Vanilla Hot Chocolate? Your suggestion, please?”

Awkwardly clearing your throat, you mumbled, “Well, I do have a special for the cafe’s most loyal customers…”

One elegant brow arched and Loki leaned closer. Oh god, he smelled good! Crisp notes of starched white linen, warm wool, and something that smelled like the forest in winter. ”Oh, do tell?”

Your hands were moving without thought, pulling down a thick, white china mug. “Good quality dark chocolate…”

“Of course,” he agreed, not pulling back and leaning an expensively suited elbow on your counter.

“Then, unsweetened almond milk,” your shyness was gone and you were deep in the Chocolate Zone where everything made sense and could be measured and invented and made magical. Loki was following your movements with a gentle smile. 

“Now,” you lightly tapped a powdery spoonful into the mix. “Siberian ginseng, pulverized black bean paste, maca powder and trust me here, a dash of Vermont maple syrup.”

Gently placing the mug on a china plate with two of his favorite lingonberry scones, you pushed it forward, anxiously awaiting his approval. 

The cafe was quiet - which never happened - so you were both suspended in the moment, you watching his eyes close in appreciation, the muscles in his throat swallow.

Silence, then another sip.

Loki’s voice was always a treat, low, sonorous, with an exquisite English accent. But after the third sip, his emerald green eyes opened and he hummed appreciatively. That hum, you could feel it tingle down your spine and warm up a couple of places that should not be warmed during work hours. After his fourth sip, the little furrow in his forehead smoothed out and he sighed appreciatively.

“Glorious.”

My insides are melting, you thought, I am going to be a puddle in like thirty seconds.

“All right, darling, you must tell me what this delightful concoction is called?” Loki was leaning close enough to whisper, the warm tickle of his breath on your cheek.

“It’s not a fancy name, but it’s Headache-Soothing Adaptogenic Hot Chocolate. There’s magnesium and adaptogens, combined to soothe away the most crushing headache,” you answered, a little breathless but still coherent.

Loki straightened, a smile spreading across his perfect face. “Now, how did you know I had a headache?” he purred.

You kind of stabbed your finger at your forehead. “You get this crease… this furrow on your busy days when your phone keeps going off and you get your scones to go…”

He was staring at you intently and all of a sudden it felt like the temperature went up 50 degrees in the cafe. “Beautiful, brilliant, and I suspect, darling with a bit of witchcraft,” Loki murmured, “you’re quite perfect.”

Only a weak puff of air escaped your slack lips, but he didn’t seem to mind. Sighing as his phone started buzzing, he said, “Put my scones in a to-go box, please? And do not waste a drop of that hot chocolate! The largest travel mug you have, if you would.”

As Loki opened the elaborate, leaded-glass door, he turned to look over one broad shoulder at you, halting his phone conversation to wink at you. That wink… that wink had you singing “That Old Black Magic” until an unrepentant Susan returned from her break.

Loki’s next visit wasn't three days later. He must have been wrapping up some important deal because he’d sent his personal assistant to pick up his usual order. You added in a spiderweb ginger cookie one day with a little note: “Expanding your cookie horizons.” 

His surly assistant came in the next morning with his order and handed you a note. It was in an envelope of thick, white paper and the card inside emblazoned with his initials. It read:

“Darling, you already have me caught in your web, no cookies needed.”

A high, inarticulate noise came from your throat and you pressed the note to your heart, back turned to everyone, hidden by your magnificent vintage copper coffee maker.

When the CEO of Asgard Industries returned to your little shop, it was the day before Halloween and he patiently waited behind twelve little girls and their teacher from the school down the street to place their orders. It took some time and you smiled apologetically over their heads. Loki smiled and waved his elegant hand, brushing off the delay. When he stepped up to the counter, you were nearly boneless with longing. He was clad in a charcoal grey Gucci suit, black shirt, and a green and black patterned tie. You surreptitiously ran the back of your hand over your mouth to make sure you weren’t drooling.

“Happy almost Halloween,” you greeted.

“And to you, darling,” Loki said warmly, “I must admit I will miss the cafe decor come November first.”

You got just a bit teary-eyed. “Me, too. Halloween combines the best of all the holidays, you get to dress up and decorate and eat candy, and you don’t have to buy meaningless gifts for people you barely know.”

He was just standing there, hands in his pockets, impeccable posture and looking down at you with a smile that could be construed as affectionate.

You blushed and hurried on, “Um, let me tell you about today’s specials, we have Vegan Gingerbread Hot Chocolate, and Pumpkin Coconut Hot Chocolate-”

“What were the little ones having?” Loki asked, tilting his head toward the gaggle of girls, giggling as he winked at them.

You burst into laughter, “Really? It’s our Unicorn White Hot Chocolate with colored sprinkles.”

Oh, this man had such a devilish smile. “I shall have one of the Unicorn concoctions, please. With extra sprinkles. And a round of your pumpkin sugar cookies for the ladies.” 

And it was then that you discovered that a hugely tall man in a ridiculously expensive suit could look entirely masculine whilst sipping a cup sporting a pink marshmallow unicorn horn.

 

After stuffing the tip jar with money, Loki ambled over to your edge of the counter. “And what will you be doing tomorrow night on All Hallow’s Night, after you close the cafe?”

“Actually, Mr. Odinson, I can’t begin any celebrations until I personally deliver a rather large order to a certain someone’s board room at Asgard Industries?”

He burst into laughter, giving you a moment to mistily appreciate his sharp profile, how his black hair cascaded over his shoulders. “I must defend myself- I did not place that order for the meeting, it must have been my assistant. I would not have wished to disrupt your evening.”

“Oh,” you fidgeted, “nothing to disrupt, really. I usually throw a Halloween party, but this year’s been so crazy… I’ll just hand out candy to the neighborhood kids.”

With that oddly affectionate smile, Loki nodded to you. “Well then, I shall look forward to seeing you tomorrow afternoon.”

Halloween was always insane at the cafe, and you reveled in it. Your team baked day and night to be ready and you blew more of your budget than you should on the perfect chocolate for your concoctions, the Teuscher brand from Switzerland, Vosges Haut-Chocolate brought in from Chicago, the smoked salt caramels, and dark, bitter chocolate powder from Peru. So the spread you brought into the massive board room at Asgard Industries soaring tower was your best: Zebra-Striped Shortbread Cookies, Brownie Boo Bites, Salted Butter Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies, Soft Gingerbread Tiles with Rum Butter Glaze - two dozen different kinds of cookies and muffins, and steaming carafes of your three most popular hot chocolates. Loki and his team filed in just as you were finishing the gorgeous spread. 

“Oh, my god!” A woman moaned halfway through her bite of your Halloween-Shaded Ombre Rainbow Cookie. “What is this?” 

You chuckled, but were suddenly aware, painfully aware that these perfectly dressed professionals fit this expensive space, with the gleaming walnut conference table and sleek chairs. You were still in your work shirt and jeans, and damnit! There were frosting streaks on one leg and a smear of chocolate you’d somehow missed on the hem of your shirt. All your makeup was probably melted off from the madness of the day.

But that blasted, beautiful CEO in his coal-black St. Laurent suit was smiling down at you again, ignoring his employees tearing through your cookie display like frat boys with a beer keg. “If you don’t mind, darling, I’ll have your bill settled at my assistant’s desk just outside the conference room and to your left?”

Dismissed. Politely. Trying to ignore the flush rising in your cheeks, you nodded rapidly, backing out of the room as quickly as possible, only knocking into one monitor on your way out. At the assistant’s desk, you found a large envelope with your name and a hand-drawn bat on the front. 

 

Darling,

I hoped you might consider having dinner and dancing with me at the Black Cat Jazz Club tonight? It is, as you can imagine, a very important day for celebration at the club as well. There is a large and comfortable shower in the bathroom in my personal office suite. I should just be out of my meeting within 60 minutes, which I am told by knowledgeable sources is the full limit you are willing to devote to dressing up?

Please say yes…

Loki

 

“Are you kidding me right now?” You looked around the empty reception area.

“Nope, he’s serious. The man’s got it bad for you, honey. I told you!” It was Susan, carrying a glossy black dress box with some additional bags with names on them like Tiffany’s and La Perla.

“Wha- I- this-” you were sputtering and waving your arms around like an off-kilter windmill, trying to express your What the HELL is going on here? shock and surprise. 

Piling the dress box in your arms, your treacherous employee led you to Loki’s office - a magnificent (of course) corner suite with an awe-inspiring view and as he had promised, a gigantic shower with all kinds of showerheads and nozzles and if you’d had more time you’d have been in there all night. You weren’t quite sure how it happened, but you were dressed in some exceptionally flossy black lingerie, gossamer-thin hosiery and a sky-high pair of black Louboutins and Susan was trying to wrangle the dress over your head without ruining the pretty updo she’d managed while you were trying to remember how to do cat’s-eye liner on your lids.

“I… have no idea who this person is,” you said after the flurry was over and the last zipper zipped. 

The dress your startling suitor has chosen was… perfect, of course. A flattering nipped-in waistline, not too deep in the neckline, and a wonderfully swirly skirt that was perfect for dancing.

“You look amazing,” Susan said, grinning over your shoulder as you both admired the creation she’d put together. “You’re going to have an incredible night- the best Halloween ever. Especially because the chances are around 99.5% that you are totally getting laid tonight.”

That of course, would have the be the moment Loki strolled into his office and put a graceful hand to his chest. “I knew you would be stunning in this dress, darling, but… Really, I had no idea just how stunning." Putting his hands in the pockets of his impeccable suit, he strolled around you for a moment. “Are you ready? You must be famished, I wager that you have not eaten at all today.”

Well, this was true, and you gave him a shaky smile, taking the arm he offered. “Good night, dear Susan, I am in your debt,” he purred, and she gave a deliriously high-pitched giggle.

“Thank you,” you mouthed at her as you left.

Dinner at the most famous jazz club in New York City was spectacular- a rich and earthy pumpkin soup to start, delicate lamb chops in a red port glaze paired with a Louis Latour Corton Grancy red. For dessert, red velvet cake with a cream cheese frosting flavored, oddly, with chiles and it worked perfectly. Loki overcame your nervousness immediately by encouraging you to recount tales of your most obsessive customers and shared the reactions of his executive team after ravaging through your dessert and hot chocolate buffet. “It is quite possible that Carolyn, my formidable head of Mergers and Acquisitions, bit the hand of Andre, the team leader of Research and Development when he tried to take the last Salted Caramel Shortbread.”

You were giggling, feeling silly and relaxed for the first time that day, enjoying the warmth of the candlelight and the vibrations of this beautiful man’s deep chuckle. As the first stirrings from the Jazz musicians filled the club, Loki rose to his feet, holding out one huge hand. “May I have this dance?”

Ohhhh… he could dance like a dream, you sighed silently. Of course. Like everything else he does. Elegantly twirling you, dipping and swaying, Loki led the way, making it easy to follow and not even trip over your own four-inch heels. As the next song grew slower, he pulled you gently against his body. His long, hard, beautifully muscled body. You knew those tailored suits covered a gorgeous body, but his precise, firm musculature, the way he held you- It was so…

“Perfect,” you sighed, head tilting back to look into his eyes. 

Leaning his cheek against yours, Loki whispered in your ear, that deep, resonant tone making your toes curl. “Oh, loveliest girl, my hot chocolate enchantress with your magical brews that have made me your helpless slave- you are perfect. And you smell…” his aquiline nose traced along the thin skin of your throat. “Utterly delicious. Notes of salted caramel. A dash of peppermint,” his lips found a place under your ear that made you make an embarrassing sort of girlie noise. “A sweet cream, lightly touched with vanilla and almond, and underneath it all, luxurious undertones of a good, dark chocolate. In fact…” This time, the tip of his tongue slipped out to trace your slack lips, “You are perfectly, utterly edible. And when this dance has finished, I would like very much to take you home and just…” He nipped your ear, chuckling at your squeal, “just devour you. Is that something you would consider, my delectable enchantress?”

Your lips opened a closed like a goldfish’s for a moment, but you managed to find your voice. “That would be simply… lovely, Lo-” Had you ever said his first name?

Wrapping one long arm around your waist, Loki pulled you closer still. “Please say my name, darling. I plan to have it fall from those luscious lips of yours several times tonight.”

You laughed breathlessly. Of all the spectacular Halloween celebrations you’d created, nothing could be as magical as this. “Yes, Loki. You have my enthusiastic consent.”

As his mouth descended on yours, nibbling and stroking, his tongue toying with yours, Loki spun you again, making your skirt flare as he finally pulled away and sang the song to you in a pleasant baritone.



That old black magic has me in its spell

That old black magic that you weave so well

Those icy fingers up and down my spine

That same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine

 

The same old tingle that I feel inside

And then that elevator starts its ride

And down and down I go

Round and round I go

Like a leaf that's caught in the tide

 

I should stay away, but what can I do?

I hear your name and I'm aflame

Aflame with such a burning desire

That only your kiss can put out the fire

Cause you are the lover I have waited for

The mate that fate had me created for

 

And every time your lips meet mine, darling

Down and down I go

Round and round I go

In a spin, loving the spin that I'm in

Under that old black magic called love...

 

Spinning you one last time, Loki pulled your rather tingly lower half against his. “Come along, darling. I have so many magical ways to play with you.” And with a last, slightly delirious giggle, he took your hand in his big warm one and led you off the dance floor and out the door into a waiting Jaguar, roaring off into the night.

 

 

Chapter 2: Only For You

Summary:

In which formidable CEO Loki Odinson, the powerful head of Asgard Industries for some reason unfathomable to you, is a relentless flirt and steady customer at your café. Halloween is your favorite holiday, and Loki intends to make it one you’ll never forget.

Notes:

I wasn't planning a followup to this tasty bit of CEO!Loki, but @minnierose and @Candyflaps wanted one, so... anything those two want, they get from me.

Chapter Text

 

The ride in Loki’s Jaguar? Glorious.

The kiss as he helped you out of the car? Sublime.

Even the touching and teasing you gently, Loki’s chuckles showing how much he enjoyed taking off your pretty dress, slowly, slowly unzipping you with many kisses down your back - it was perfect.

 

The moment of awkward awareness was you, standing in his massive, shadowy bedroom in the flossy, fancy-dancy lingerie he’d included in your "Cinderella Fairy Princess Magical Makeover Kit” that Susan assembled around you. Loki was slowly removing his tie, pale face half-hidden in the dim light, but those eyes… his emerald eyes alight and practically glowing as he stared at you. And you were suddenly, painfully aware of the stretch marks on your upper thighs, that burn scar on your forearm from that tray of cookies you’d dropped while taking them out of the oven. Your hands were calloused, with sensible fingernails, cut short.

And this was Lokl Odinson, multimillionaire and the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the world. He was famous, he was gorgeous. He should be dating a model or an actress. 

What were you doing here?

 

“I can almost hear you thinking, darling,” that beautiful voice, the exquisite accent and deep, resonant tone. 

You sighed a little. That voice… Oh, he was apparently still talking. 

”Do you know the very first time I saw you, darling?” His suit jacket was off, laying neatly over a chair with his tie. Loki was unbuttoning his shirt slowly, button by button with those long, clever fingers.

“Uh…” you tore your gaze away from his firm pectorals, revealed with each button loosened. My god, this man was toned! You knew there had to be a thick layer of muscle over that lean body, but Loki was beautifully sculpted, something that Michelangelo might create. “At… the cafe, I guess?”

“Mmm… no,” he whispered in your ear, placing a gentle kiss underneath it. “You were catering a fundraiser for a friend of mine - Sakura Tran?” He was behind you now, hands sliding up your arms and down again, soothingly, leaning you slightly off balance and against him.

“Oh, of course!” you said, a little shocked. “I managed a catering service before opening the cafe. But that was…”

“Three years ago,” Loki prompted, gently sliding down one strap of your lacy corset and kissing your shoulder, making you give a pleasurable little shiver.

You turned to look up at him. “You remembered the catering staff from a fundraiser three years ago?” Not skeptical, maybe, but incredulous at least.

“I remembered you,” he corrected, releasing your hair from the updo Susan had created, plucking each hairpin out with his long, graceful fingers and gently rubbing your scalp. “You were so alive that night- your cheeks flushed and laughing. Sakura dragged you up on stage and convinced you into donating a private, catered dinner for the charity. She said-” Loki paused, remembering the words as you stared up in misty adoration. “She said, ‘After consuming this magical buffet tonight, I’m certain all of you will bid generously on a feast created by this culinary genius,’ and oh, darling I made the first bid.”

You were trying to remember the moment on stage, you’d been blushing terribly at being the center of attention and a little giddy over having your food praised so highly. You heard the bidding start, but… “I was so flustered,” you admitted, “it was loud and the lights were really bright.”

Loki was stroking the tips of his fingers very lightly over your collarbones, intent on his task. “I won that particular item,” he mused, “for the sum of-”

“One hundred and fifty thousand dollars!” you interrupted, “That, I remember.”

“Alas…” his cool lips were moving down your neck and onto your left shoulder and it was really distracting. “Our Tokyo division suffered a massive loss two days later. I was there for nearly six months. I had to give your dinner to one of my friends.”

You were really torn between whimpering and trying to remember what the hell this tall, gorgeous man was talking about. “Um… Salmon en papillote, Lobster Bouillabaisse, and a Hazelnut dacquoise. Y- you know, meringue and whipped hazelnut cream?”

“Yes,” Loki said a bit sadly, “Tony was most insistent on sharing the details of the meal.”

Oh, yeah. Tony Stark. You might forget faces but you never forgot a meal you’d created. “He was nice but…” oh, god he was running his tongue along your jawline! “...very loud.”

You felt his broad chest shake in silent laughter. “This is true. But he directed you to Jotunn Startups?”

“Yes! They were the ones to give me the capital to start the cafe! It’s been such an amazing- Wait.” You took a fistful of his thick, glossy hair and pulled his mouth off of you. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at his twinkling ones. “That’s- that’s one of yours, isn’t it!”

“It is,” Loki allowed, and you watched his eyes close, his breath hitch as you pulled on his hair again. “I knew you were destined for greater things. You just needed a push. And look at you now! You were an excellent - ahhhh, darling, do that again - investment.”

This time, you plunged both hands into his hair. God, you’d dreamt of running your fingers through his hair since he first walked into your cafe - which apparently he’d bankrolled just to keep himself supplied with sweets - but the reality of his glorious, long mane was really something spectacular. It was so silky- the dim light glimmering off the ebony hue and the feel of it, thick handfuls and how he groaned every time you pulled on it? 

Amazing. Oh, my god so amazing.

So, you gave your fistfuls of his hair one more brisk tug before loosening your fingers and trailing them through the strands that fell past his shoulders. Now his fingers slid into your hair and tilted your head just so, and kissed you. Deeply, with lots of tongue and you’d just known he would be amazing with that tongue and oh, yes you were absolutely right about that. Finally, reluctantly pulling away from your lips and sucking the bottom one a little bit harder than was comfortable.

You were both breathing pretty hard and Loki’s lids were at half-mast, looking down at you and he looked hungry. Not just for what you made but for you?

“Yes, darling. For you. I have been starving for you for three years now.”

Oh, god. You let your forehead drop onto his chest. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

His knuckle went under your chin and lifted it gently. Oh, he had such a kind smile. “You did. Now, be a good girl and let me feast on you. I am ravenous.” You let out a squeal as he dived for you, still growling in a really intense and satisfying way.

When you woke up - for the third time, because the other two were when Loki’s mouth was on some part of your body - the skies over Manhatten were a brilliant blue. “There’s nothing bluer than a November sky,” you sighed, sitting up and stretching your arms over your head, arching your back luxuriously.

Which was how Loki saw you as he walked into his bedroom with a large tray of food. He actually paused at the sight, the tray tilting ominously before he caught it. “Now, there is a sight I could wake up to much more often,” he purred in that self-satisfied way that would irritate you on anyone but him.

Clearing your throat as you tried not to clutch his sheets to your chin (1,800 thread Parima Yalda cotton, thank you) you croaked, “Did you cook for me?”

He laughed, settling the tray on the bed and you on his lap. “Do not sound so surprised, darling. I can whip up a few things, though I lack your magical touch.”

One bite into your fried egg with hazelnuts, chanterelles, green garlic and blackberries, you realized Loki was an accomplished liar because this was freaking delicious. “Oh, my god! I don’t care how big Asgard Industries is or how you’ve changed the tech world, your talents are being wasted. You should be a chef!”

He had the nerve to smile modestly as he took the lid off another plate. “Do try my espresso waffles, I used a light mocha drizzle. Is it too much?” 

You involuntarily made a noise that you’d made several times the night before, just in a different context. “I’m never leaving this bed, Loki Odinson. Between these sheets and this breakfast and your… your… beautiful body,” you sighed fondly, “I have everything I need.”

“Oh, but darling,” he said, feeding you another bite, “you must. There is a warm shower with rosemary soap waiting for you and then we must stroll hand in hand at the Sunday Market in Meatpacking District.  They have the new ornamental gourds for your November decor for the cafe.”

“Are you a figment of my imagination?” you blurted. No one could be this perfect. But Loki merely smiled, all mischief and gleaming white teeth.

“No. But I am a very patient man. I have waited three years to see you here in this bed. So I intend to move this day along rather quickly so I can place you right back on it.” 

You found yourself over his shoulder and laughing as one big hand gave you a firm tap on your bare bottom as he hauled you into the master bathroom.

That night, you brought a tray out onto Loki’s spacious terrace where he was seated, checking messages and enjoying the sunset. He put away his phone as you approached, looking up with a smile. “And what do you have there, darling?”

“A new invention,” you replied, sitting on his long thigh as you assembled the big china mugs. “My hot chocolate base, exactly six shavings of Callebaut 7030 Dark Chocolate…” You felt his big, warm hand slide around your waist. “Crushed mint leaf, two drops of 1883 Maison Routin Vanilla Syrup…”

“Mmm-hmm?” Loki hummed as he gently bit your earlobe. 

“And a swirl of Sonoma Valley Honey on top,” you finished with a flourish and handed the mug to him, leaning forward eagerly as he took the first sip.

He took the time to bring the chocolate mixture to his face, breathing in the aroma with a pleased sigh. After three sips, Loki groaned in what could only be construed as ecstasy. “What do you call this sublime mix?”

“Black Magic varm sjokolade,” you said, leaning against his hard chest as he offered you a sip with a smile. “It is said...” you couldn’t resist and leaned over to kiss the traces of chocolate from his lips, “that the bitterness of the dark chocolate and the sweetness of the honey stimulates the production of oxytocin and heighten the levels of dopamine and norepinephrine in the brain. Which is a boring, chemical way of saying that if lovers drink it together, they will be bound together forever.”

“Why, darling. I didn’t know you spoke Norwegian,” he grinned, a sibilant purr sounding like a satisfied panther. “Black Magic Hot Chocolate? You must make it only for me, then.”

Loki kissed you and kissed you, until you finally managed to laugh and gasp, “Only for you.”