Short one-shot!
Because I'm still gathering my wits from Midterm exams 💀
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The smell of blood and gunpowder lay heavy in the forest air.
It wasn't a challenge at all for Loki to deplete the HYDRA fleet by himself. It was all the more effortless with you by his side.
You had no idea when you and Loki began to gravitate towards each other when fighting. You were rarely paired together for missions, anyway. But, something about your dynamic with him felt easy.
It's like he's the only one who understands your movement. Every time you'd dodge, he would hit. And, you would do the same for him.
Neither of you really talk about it after the mission had been completed. Leaving things unsaid was your favorite language, after all. And, it seems like it was also Loki's preferred way of communicating— not communicating at all.
In a way, your guys' fighting style seems to be your own special language. You two were the only ones who understood each other clearly on the battlefield.
If it weren't for Steve's constant reminders and Tony's constant sarcastic remarks, you would've turned off your earpiece long ago.
"Watch it, Hulk!" You yelled over the intercom, suffering the aftermath of him smashing on a particularly compact HYDRA tank. Blood splattered in your hair as the agents got crushed inside, no doubt killing them upon impact.
There were stray bits of metal and dust in the air that distracted you momentarily. You fanned the air for a second, clearing your sight from any particles that hindered it.
Suddenly, Loki was in front of you, his hand slyly playing with a silver bullet. He tuts. It's one of the rare occasions where he acknowledges you on the battlefield where he doesn't send a warning signal.
"Focus up, agent." Loki says, tossing you the bullet. "You could have been hit."
And then he was off blasting his magic against HYDRA foot soldiers unlucky enough to face the Trickster God.
You kept a close eye on him as you controlled the soil beneath the driving tanks of HYDRA, allowing it to consume the vehicles and the men inside them whole. If it were any other situation, you'd relish in their screams. Today was a serious mission, though, as per Steve Rogers. So, you kept your theatrics hidden for today.
Loki, on the other hand, did not.
As he sunk dagger after dagger into the hearts of his enemies, he would flip with a flourish.
And, he would throw his head back.
To flip his hair.
Fucking hell.
-
The very ground you were standing on began to dislodge itself from the Earth. You were on wobbly knees, needing to steady yourself on an abandoned car. The ground shook, akin to something of a magnitude six earthquake.
Sokovia was falling— well, rising, on technicality, but the metaphor still stood. You were all on borrowed time. If Ultron manages to pry Sokovia from the Earth at a certain height, all of humanity is doomed.
If only you were strong enough to control a whole plot of a city back to the ground... this would've ended long before the panic would have settled.
Rescue aircrafts had just been green lit by Nick Fury. You and the rest of the Avengers just hoped that it would arrive on time.
Hope is a funny thing, you noted. It made you feel a whole lot less helpless even with the uncertainty of it. It bloomed in your chest, convincing your very being that in the end, everything would be alright.
As you tossed another one of Ultron's sentient minions over the edge, you heard that loud yet familiar whir of the helicarrier.
Help had arrived.
You sighed in relief, simultaneously crushing two of Ultron's Sentries that were heading for Loki between massive boulders.
"Careful!" You called out teasingly. He was busy blasting three Sentries off the ledge.
"Returning the favor are we?" He replied, jogging himself closer to you.
You sunk a Sentrie in the ground while smiling at the God of Mischief. "Seems only fair, no?"
Loki chuckled before leaping over an incoming Sentrie. He latched onto its back, the robot squirming in Loki's grasp. It would only be another moment before Loki would decapitate the scrappy machine.
The robot flew in erratic directions, losing control of its flying mechanisms. Loki jumped off of it before it got too erratic, landing with a flourish.
And a flip of the hair.
You rolled your eyes at him.
"Do you really have to do that?"
Loki's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Do what, exactly?"
You shook your head fondly in reply. "Nevermind."
-
You've been curiously wondering how many daggers Loki kept on his person. It seems like he could draw one out of thin air anytime he liked.
The training facility had been empty, except for your and Loki's presence. You've bored yourself long ago with manipulating the ground and dirt into sharp tendrils to cast at plush dummies that needed refurbishing. So, now you sat on a barrel, observing Loki as he threw dagger after dagger into a target board.
He threw and hit the marks with such finesse and ease, you could almost be impressed.
"Are those normal daggers or are they forged in Asgard?" You asked, legs absentmindedly dangling over the edge of the barrel.
"Asgardian," he replied, drawing another one from what you thought was thin air. "Why'd you ask?"
You shrugged. "Just curious, I guess."
Loki stepped away from his position, now sauntering over you. He handed you one of his daggers, handle facing your form. Your eyes flit over the beautifully carved hilt of the weapon then to Loki's expectant expression.
"I can try?" You asked, eyebrows quirking up.
Loki pleasantly smirked. "If you're so curious."
You immediately hopped off of the barrel, grinning happily at Loki as you walked over the target boards.
Loki followed closely behind, that pleasant expression remaining on his face. He stood a few feet behind you with his hands folded behind his back.
You toyed with the dagger in your hand, getting used to its weight. It was heavier than what you're used to. Well, it was Asgardian forged after all— made to Asgardian standards. These weren't supposed to be used against fragile humans. They were specifically smithed to fight against denser, stronger creatures.
The hilt of the dagger sat perfectly in your hand as you raised it above your head. You let out a steadying breath before— Chk!
Smack-dab in the middle of the target.
You looked back at Loki, pride clear in your eyes, knowing you were better with firearms than sharp weapons.
"Impressive," he commented.
You smiled— something you noticed you've been doing a lot when you're around Loki.
"Oh, you know." You shrugged. "Just one of my many talents."
Loki also found himself smiling— not smirking— genuinely, this time. With no teasing expression, just pure mirth and contentment.
"Would you care to show me your other talents?" He asked, disarming himself from any other daggers on his person.
"You want to spar?"
"Hand to hand. No weapons."
You didn't even answer him, you just began to lead him over to the matted floors.
"No hard feelings if you land on your ass, alright?" You teased Loki as you stood in a fighting stance.
He tilted his head in response, that familiar smirk returning to his face. Loki stretched his neck from side to side, also standing in a fighting stance.
"I assure you, darling," he spoke, going in for the first hit. You easily dodged it with a step back. "I am not a sore loser."
You retaliated, aiming to punch his abdomen. You hit nothing.
"Good." You replied with a smile.
The teasing hits have passed, and now you and Loki took the sparring session relatively seriously. You both had something to learn from each other, that realization only dawned on the both of you as you continued to fight.
You had to think twice when deflecting Loki's attacks. It was like playing chess with him. One move always had two or more consequence with only a small reward or reprieve from the incoming hits.
Loki also had quite the challenge to parry your hits. He had not realized how much of a heavy hitter you are, even though he had seen you crush people in between boulders more than a handful of times. He just didn't realize that that would translate to your punches and your kicks.
It was quite a long time before either of you got overwhelmed with each other's attacks. The exhaustion was mutual, it seemed. All heavy breaths and frustrated grunts. An occasional mocking chuckle when one of you did a particularly clever move.
In the end though, you had Loki pinned to the ground. Your knee lightly pressed on his heaving chest.
"Well done." Loki breathed. If you knew him better, you'd say he was almost enjoying his time on the ground beneath your weight.
"You let me win, didn't you?" You replied with a raised eyebrow, removing your knee from his chest.
Loki chuckled. "No hard feelings, darling. I merely grew bored."
He was still on his back. It seemed like he had no plans to stand anytime soon.
"Am I not an interesting opponent?"
He could almost pout at your insinuation. Loki swore he heard a pang of hurt beneath your teasing tone.
"Not at all," he reassured lightheartedly. "I just grew tired of trying to find a flaw in your technique."
You didn't say anything. You just grinned at him as you got on your feet, also offering him a hand.
He gladly took it and pulled himself off the ground.
To flip his hair back into place.
You rolled your eyes.
"Are you ever going to stop doing that?" You asked.
Loki scrunched up his eyebrows. "Doing what?"
"That hair flip-y thing you do when you're getting off the ground."
He frowned. "What else do you expect me to do? Continue fighting with an obstructed vision?"
You chuckled at his ridiculousness. "I'm just saying, Loki," you tapped his chest with your palm fondly. "Hair ties exist."
-
You had to do a double take at the God of Mischief entering the Avengers' common area the next day.
It seemed that he actually took your advice.
And it was completely backfiring on you.
Loki caught you stealing glances from him for the fifth time today, and he just so happens to decide then and there to confront you about it.
In his black tunic (that compliments his wonderfully pale skin so well).
In his favorite pair of leather pants (that accentuates everything that needed accentuating).
And, most importantly, with his hair tied in the loosest, most sinful looking man-bun on Earth.
You knew Loki was attractive, but by all the forces of Heaven and all the nine Hells... Good God.
"Does it look bad?" Loki immediately asked as he sauntered over to you in the kitchen.
"Hm?" You were completely dumbfounded and distracted by the beautiful mop of hair that was tied loosely behind his head. You couldn't hear a thing he said.
"My hair. Have I done it correctly?"
You nodded absentmindedly. "Yup. You did. Congrats."
Loki was becoming all too confused with your demeanor. Why were you being so... weird?
"Have I done something wrong?" Loki suddenly asked. It was enough to snap you out of your trance.
"What?!" You replied in disbelief. "God no! It's just..." You trailed off out of embarrassment. It would be so mortifying to tell Loki whatever is going on in your head right now.
He raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.
You groaned in defeat.
Fine.
"You look really good. Like, unreasonably good. Alright?"
Loki grinned, very much enjoying his effect on you. He moves closer to you.
"Well then, agent," he spoke, his voice becoming deeper, more breathier. "I don't think it'd be safe to put my hair like this on the battlefield. You'd be too distracted to fight."
"I get it. You're hot. You don't need to rub it in my face." You rolled your eyes at him.
He chuckled, a pleasant rumble travelling in his chest. "I love how I make you so flustered, darling."
"You're so annoying."
Loki pouted. "How could I ever make it up to you?"
"You could kiss me, for a start."
"How bold, agent."
You grinned at his teasing tone. "It's the man-bun. It's doing a lot of things for me."