Work Text:
The thermometer read 107.6 °F.
One hundred and seven.
In New York.
Let’s just say even Tony Stark had stopped making jokes.
The air conditioning in Stark Tower had died the day before, in a tragic sizzle that had sounded like the end of the world. Since then, the team had been barely surviving in what looked like a hellish version of the Avengers HQ. Ice cubes were melting faster than Natasha’s patience, Clint had tried to nap half inside the fridge, and Steve, ever stoic, was pretending it “wasn’t that bad.”
You, on the other hand, had given up any illusion of dignity since morning. Shorts, sports bra, hair up in a messy bun, you dragged yourself from room to room searching for the faintest breeze. Every step felt like walking through a sauna.
“It’s official,” you muttered. “We’re all gonna die steamed alive.”
Sam raised a hand without lifting his head from the couch.
“Tell that to Stark. He says the repairs are ‘in progress.’”
You rolled your eyes. For the past hour, those “repairs in progress” had consisted of Tony lying shirtless on the marble floor, a damp towel over his face.
And he wasn’t the only one.
Apparently, the heatwave had declared today International Abs Appreciation Day. Steve, Bucky, Sam, Thor, even Clint, they had all ditched their shirts, and the common room looked like a living poster for Gods of the Stadium.
Normally, you might have enjoyed the view. Maybe a little too much. But not today.
Too hot, too sticky, too exhausting. Your brain had melted somewhere between the kitchen and the couch.
You sighed loudly, cheek pressed against the cushion.
“At this point, even if Chris Hemsworth himself walked in, I wouldn’t bat an eye.”
Clint grunted from the floor.
Lacking fresh air, you decided you needed water.
Cold.
Immediately.
You trudged into the kitchen, bare feet sliding on the warm tiles, and turned the faucet all the way on. A rush of icy water burst out with a glorious hiss. You didn’t hesitate a second before leaning your head under the stream, letting the water run down your neck, shoulders, and back.
A sigh escaped you, the first genuine sigh of relief in hours.
You closed your eyes, savoring that tiny moment of paradise, water trickling down your overheated skin, soaking your sports bra, your hair slowly slipping out of its bun.
“Oh my god… finally…”
You let the water run a bit longer, hands braced on the sink, panting but blissful. You were drenched, hair dripping onto your shoulders, fabric clinging to your skin. For the first time since sunrise, you could actually breathe.
Until a throat cleared behind you, shattering your little oasis of freshness. You jumped, lifting your head, droplets still falling from your chin.
And of course.
Of course.
Loki.
Leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, looking as immaculate as if he’d just stepped out of a magazine. Not a trace of heat on him, not a wrinkle, not a single hair out of place and that damned little smirk.
“What a fascinating scene,” he said in that calm, amused tone of his. “Should I commend your bravery in the face of the elements, or your devotion to Stark’s faucet?”
You huffed, brushing a few wet strands off your face.
“If you’re not here to help, at least don’t comment.”
He kept watching you without flinching, his gaze trailing over you slowly in a way that made you feel both seen and deciphered.
The silence stretched, heavy, humming.
Loki tilted his head slightly, a spark glinting in his eyes. Subtly, almost sensually, his tongue brushed his lips. His expression remained calm, nearly impassive, but there was an intensity in his gaze that pinned you to the spot.
You could still feel the droplets running down your neck, tracing their way to your stomach. Your heart was beating too fast. You could swear the temperature had just climbed another ten degrees.
He finally stepped forward. The air seemed to ripple around him, oddly cool despite the heat he radiated. His voice, low and perfectly composed, broke the silence at last:
“You seem… feverish.”
You swallowed hard.
“Bravo, Sherlock, we’re all dying of heat, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh, but I have. It’s just… with you, it’s particularly noticeable.”
~~~~~
Night fell without bringing the slightest breath of freshness. The air remained thick, sticky, almost tangible.
You lay on your back, the sheets long since thrown off, along with your clothes, your skin clammy, your heart still too restless to hope for sleep.
You'd tried everything: the cold shower, the open window, even the makeshift fan Tony had rigged up (which made more noise than wind). Nothing worked. The heat clung to you like a second skin.
And, even more annoying, your mind refused to leave you alone. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the scene in the kitchen again, the icy touch of his gaze, the hushed tone of his voice, the gentle shivers that crept up your spine and up your neck.
Loki.
You could still feel the way his eyes had brushed against you, the tip of his tongue running back and forth over his pink lips. You had wanted to believe it was provocation, his favorite pastime, but there was something else, something you couldn't quite place. You turned on one side, then the other, your face buried in your pillow.
"This is ridiculous," you muttered into the dark.
But the more you tried not to think about it, the more his image came back: his low voice, his clear gaze, the coolness he exuded.
You found yourself shivering despite the heat. An absurd, contradictory shiver, as if your body no longer knew what it wanted.
You closed your eyes, sighing, one hand on your forehead. Almost unconsciously, your other hand slid gently over your body. Your fingers brushed against your breasts, your nipples hardening under the touch. Your hand slid gently over your stomach before reaching your already spread thighs. A familiar tingle spread through you as your fingers slid over your wet slit. You easily found your clitoris and began to gently rub it, your eyes closed, your mind filled with the image of the God and his damn tongue.
The pleasure rose slowly. A moan escaped your mouth as two of your fingers slipped inside you. You wondered what his fingers would feel like inside you. You imagined yourself riding him, his fingers inside you, congratulating yourself for taking him like such a good girl.
As you moved in and out, your moans grew louder. You felt your lower abdomen tense, unwinding the coil of your pleasure. You rubbed your clitoris harder, your mind looping to the deep voice of the man haunting your thoughts.
Come on my fingers, pet. Come for me.
Your mouth opened in an o before your orgasm swept over you. You collapsed onto your mattress, your body sweating, your breathing heavy.
Damn, you just touched yourself while thinking about Loki and as a bonus you felt even hotter.
~~~~~
The next morning, the sun was already beating against the windows like a sworn enemy. Barely eight o’clock, and the air was already shimmering above the city, inside Stark Tower, the inferno raged on.
You were sprawled on the living room couch, under an old fan that Bruce had somehow managed to bring back to life. The poor thing did what it could, churning the hot air with a desperate hum.
Your skin stuck to the leather cushions, your shorts felt like a medieval punishment, and every movement cost you an absurd amount of energy. You’d given up on modesty, everyone had by this point.
Steve had fallen asleep sitting against a wall, Clint had surrendered entirely and was lying flat on the tile floor like a starfish, and Thor was drinking straight from the pitcher, declaring that “Midgard has never known such a glorious flame!”
Tony, meanwhile, was still waging war on the air conditioning system. Since morning, he’d been wandering from room to room with a screwdriver and the manic energy of a mad scientist.
“I’m almost there!” he shouted across the room.
You didn’t move.
“You said that yesterday, Stark.”
“Yesterday I was at 87% completion. Now I’m at 93%.”
“So… still nothing,” Sam concluded, slumped next to you.
Tony raised a dramatic finger.
“Genius takes time.”
“And in the meantime, the genius is melting,” Natasha said, pouring water on the back of her neck.
You stifled a weak laugh. Even laughing required effort now.
The air shimmered, heavy and suffocating. You could feel sweat beading on your skin, sliding down your collarbone. Your gaze drifted toward the tall glass windows, outside, the city looked like it was moving in slow motion, blurred by the heat.
~~~~~
Exhausted, you dragged yourself from the living room down the corridors of the Tower, each step a superhuman effort. Sweat ran down your back, your shorts clung to your skin, your hair stuck to your neck.
You had to find a room that was even slightly cooler, even the tiniest breath of breathable air would do.
The library caught your attention. A large, dim room, blinds drawn, the air thick with the scent of old books. You pushed the door open and...
Loki was there.
Sitting calmly in an armchair, a book in hand, dressed in a perfectly buttoned black shirt, crisp and spotless. Not a trace of sweat, not a wrinkle. He looked as fresh as a winter morning in Norway. You stopped dead, staring at him in disbelief.
“Tell me I’m dreaming.”
He barely glanced up at you.
“If you are, it’s a pleasant dream.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“How are you doing this? It’s literally a hundred and seven degrees, and you’re not even sweating?”
A slow, mocking smile tugged at his lips.
“My nature spares me from the whims of Midgard’s climate.”
You crossed your arms, exasperated.
“Great. So while the rest of us are melting, Mister God of Frost is perfectly comfortable.”
“I never said I was immune to the heat,” he replied, a glint in his eyes. “Only… better equipped to endure it.”
You raised a brow.
“‘Better equipped’? Are you telling me you’re… cold?”
He closed his book with deliberate slowness.
“Very.”
You stared at him for a few seconds, your overheated brain working through that information. A flicker of last night’s memory crossed your mind, and color rose to your cheeks before a mischievous smile curved your lips.
“So, are you going to share?”
Loki arched an eyebrow, intrigued, amusement flickering across his face.
“Share?” he repeated slowly, savoring each syllable. “And what exactly would you like me to share, darling?”
You let out a small laugh, still breathless from the heat.
“Maybe a bit of your… icy air.”
He took a measured step toward you, the contrast between his coolness and your warmth sending a shiver down your spine.
“I fear my chill isn’t meant for mortals, unless you’re prepared to pay the price.”
You bit lightly on your lower lip, your heartbeat quickening.
“I think I could handle the cost.”
Loki stepped closer still and, with a slow, deliberate motion, laid his cold hand against the back of your damp neck.
A shudder ran through your body, uncontrollable, and before you could even think about it, a moan of pleasure escaped your lips, too loud to hold back and sounding far too pornographic in your ears.
His eyes suddenly darkened, and his hand tightened around the back of your neck like a deliciously cruel vice. Loki didn't move, but his gaze, deep and piercing, pierced you, making you shiver from head to toe.
His other hand slid to your hip, icy to the touch, and a shiver ran through your body at his touch. He pulled you closer, and every millimeter of distance removed made you burn with desire. With your eyes half-closed, you couldn't help a moan that betrayed your contentment.
Then, his low voice was heard near your ear, his hot breath brushing against your skin.
"You're playing a dangerous game, mortal..."
Your body stiffened, and a shiver of a completely different nature ran through you. Every word, every breath seemed to set your blood ablaze.
"Loki..." you breathed, unable to pull away, feeling your body pressed against his. The contrast between the coldness of his hands and the burning heat of his presence intoxicated you.
Your body pressed against his allowed you to feel him harden against you. Another moan escaped your lips. In response, Loki groaned and finally seemed to give in. His lips crushed against yours. His cool tongue flicked over yours. Surprised, you opened your mouth, allowing him to slip in. Your hot tongue danced with his, and you felt your legs tremble with the rush of sensation. Too quickly, his mouth left yours and moved down your jaw to your neck, leaving a cool trail in its wake.
You tilted your head back to give him better access, and your hands gripped his hair as he bit down on your jugular, leaving a mark.
Your panties quickly became damp, and soon you were moaning from the lack of friction. Loki growled against your neck.
"You're burning, darling."
He bit down hard on your neck, making you cry out in surprise, but the pain quickly subsided under his tongue. His mouth found yours again, pulling you into a violent kiss as his hands slid under your bra. You gasped at the coldness of his hands, your nipples hardening.
"So receptive... You melt beneath my deadly hands."
His fingers pinched your appendages, making you moan. You wanted to touch him, feel him. Your hands slipped past his shirt and you could finally feel his abs rolling against your knuckles. You pressed your body against his, eager for contact. You rubbed yourself against him, feeling his gigantic cock beneath you.
Loki moved from your breasts to grab your ass and with a single impulse, he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your lips continually sought his, never wanting to break the connection.
He practically threw you onto the table behind you. His hands gripped your shorts, sliding them down your legs. His fingers began to caress you through your panties. The cold sensation in that sensitive area made you arch your back.
"Already so wet for me, pet, and I've barely touched you."
He leaned down and began kissing the inside of your thighs, alternating between biting and licking. You'd probably have plenty of marks, not that you mind. He lowered his mouth to your panties, flattened his tongue, and licked you through them.
You collapsed onto the table, gasping for breath.
"Loki, my god."
"What a sweet sight... My desperate little one. You need me so much, don't you?"
"Loki... Please..."
With a smirk, Loki resumed tracing your curves through your underwear. He ran his hand up your lower abdomen, his finger playing with the elastic of your panties. His gaze finally met yours. You nodded at him, strands of hair sticking to your forehead with sweat.
The piece of clothing slid down your legs and finally landed on the floor. Reflexively, you clenched your thighs, your face flushed. You felt the bite of the cold on your thigh. Loki had slapped you. And it felt horribly good.
"Spread your legs for me, darling."
You did as he told you, gently untying your legs, giving him the full view of your dripping pussy.
"Look at you, you're completely falling apart at my very words."
You weren't sure if he was deliberately using a deeper tone in his voice, but indeed, every intonation, every syllable seemed to make torrents of wetness gush from your pussy.
"Loki... Stop being such a dick and touch me, damn it."
A part of you was rather proud that you'd managed to construct a complete sentence without stuttering, but the glare from the god below you and the subsequent slap to your thigh quickly made you lose your smile.
"Watch your pet talk, I might as well leave you on this table, needy and frustrated."
You groaned in frustration at the mere thought of Loki leaving you there. So you lifted your head, your eyes fixed on his, and gave him your most watery look possible.
"Please, touch me... My king."
Loki narrowed his eyes, a groan escaping his chest. He licked his lips, draped your legs over his shoulders, and leaned into your pussy. You closed your eyes in anticipation, biting your lower lip to keep from crying out as his cold breath fanned over your swollen sex.
He licked a stripe, moving up from your opening to your clit, pausing to brush it with the tip of his tongue. You tensed, pleasure coursing through your veins like lava. You bit your lip harder and exhaled sharply through your nose.
"Beg me, darling. Show me how much you need it."
"Please, Loki, keep going... Please..."
He took your clitoris into the warmth of his mouth and began to suck. You instinctively grabbed a handful of his hair, propping yourself up on your elbow to admire the spectacle unfolding before your eyes.
Fuck, the sight of the god on his knees, his head between your thighs could have made you come.
A flood of wetness washed over you, his tongue invading your folds, probing, returning again and again to tease your clit. He made low, steady grunts as he devoured you. Your arms gave out, your head bouncing off the table. He pushed his tongue inside you, and you arched your back. "Loki! »
"Keep moaning for me, darling. Say my name."
He thrust his tongue in with steady thrusts, sucking on your lips, squeezing your ass with his icy hands. Your pleasure was skyrocketing, and god, nothing had ever felt so good.
You stifled a cry as his cool fingers ran through your folds. You felt like he was even colder than before. Or was it you who was burning hot?
He stroked your clit with his thumb, his tongue still inside you, sucking hard. You mumbled incoherently, a familiar sensation in your lower abdomen. Then your vision went blank and pleasure washed over you, flooding your senses, making you twitch under the god's onslaught. He continued lapping at you, drinking in everything you offered. He finally kissed the inside of your thighs and lifted his head. You moaned at the sight of his chin still glistening with your arousal. He licked his lips, his green eyes fixed on yours.
"You're as delicious as I think, pet. I could get used to this."
You huffed and pushed yourself up onto your elbows.
"Oh my god, Loki, stop talking and come fuck me."
He smirked and began to take off his shirt. His chest bare, you licked your lips. Damn.
You pulled him down, your chest pressed against his, and the coldness emanating from it made you shudder. His mouth quickly found yours again. Your hands moved down to his pants, beginning to unbutton them.
A loud explosion echoed in the distance, making the table you were leaning on tremble. You jumped, and Loki lifted his head, his expression suddenly hardening.
“What was that this time?” you groaned, already on your feet.
A second, muffled boom confirmed it wasn’t your imagination. Without a word, you exchanged a glance.
Less than a minute later, you were both in the hallway, you trying to fix your shorts properly, him straightening his shirt as if nothing had happened.
You sprinted toward Stark’s lab, where a thin trail of smoke and the smell of burnt plastic were seeping out. The other Avengers were already there: Natasha, arms crossed; Clint coughing in a haze of smoke; Thor laughing his head off; and Steve fanning Bruce with a folder.
As for Tony, he stood in the middle of the wreckage, face smudged with soot, hair sticking out wildly, holding what was left of a melted screwdriver.
“Uh… bad news,” he said sheepishly. “The AC… isn’t coming back anytime soon.”
A heavy, defeated silence fell over the room.
~~~~~
Night had fallen on the city, and like the day before, it was impossible to sleep. How could you sleep when you were this close to being fucked by a god?
You had tossed and turned in bed for hours, wondering if Loki would be up for continuing what you had started earlier in the day.
Finally, you sat up, determined. If you weren't going to sleep, you might as well take your chances, and you absolutely had to escape this furnace. You crossed the corridor in silence. The tower was plunged into semi-darkness, lit only by the bluish light of the security systems. Arriving at his door, you hesitated for a second... then knocked softly.
"Come in."
His voice, calm and assured, rang out almost immediately. You opened the door and discovered Loki sitting in an armchair, a book in his hand, shirtless. He looked up at you, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"I figured the heat would eventually bring you back to me," he said, that stupid smile on his beautiful face.
You stood there for a moment, both embarrassed and relieved. You stepped fully into the room and immediately felt the difference; the air was cooler, almost soothing. You stood before the god, unable to act before his gaze.
"Come closer, pet."
As if guided from a distance, you obeyed. Your knees touched his and a shiver ran through you. You looked down and saw the bulge begin to deform his pants. Instantly, your panties became much wetter.
Suddenly bold, and surely a heatstroke, you began to slowly undress in front of the god. You pulled your tank top over your head, revealing your breasts. He licked his lips, his gaze heavy and dark. You finished sliding your shorts down your legs and stepped over him. It was too hot to bother with panties this time. You had to get to the point, your brain told you.
Loki's gaze swept over you, but you didn't flinch. He carefully examined every part of your body. He grabbed his cock, still confined in his pants, with one hand and pressed down on it. That was your signal to leave.
You approached and, with his help, slid his jogging bottoms down his legs. He'd also had the idea of ditching his underwear. His cock finally appeared before your eyes, long, straight, and thick, bouncing against his stomach. His pupils dilated as you grasped his cock in your hands. It throbbed, and you ran your thumb over the head, collecting the liquid that was already beginning to flow.
Your eyes fixed on his, you brought your thumb to your mouth and cleaned it. With a grunt, he pulled you onto his lap. Your pussy rubbed against his cock, spreading your wetness, and it made you both moan.
You nibbled his ear and whispered softly,
"How much do you need me, Loki?"
His hands gripped your ass, and you began to grind yourself against him.
"I'm going to fuck you so sweetly, mortal, that you'll cry from how good it feels."
And with his kind words, he lifted you up and impaled you on his cock. You felt yourself stretching until he pushed himself all the way in.
"Norns... you're so tight."
His muffled groan against your neck almost made you come. Damn, you were a real mess with his voice. He didn't move right away, and you realized between two hazes of pleasure that he was giving you time to adjust. You slowly rolled your hips, drawing moans from you.
"You'll be my undoing, woman."
That simple sentence made you gush around him, and you began to bounce on his cock. Your head rolled back as his hands rested on your narrow hips to help lift you up and impale you on his cock, again and again, without interruption, with fluid, rapid movements. His low grunts made you tighten jerkily around him.
"Your body is made for me, darling. As soft as the Vallalah."
You moaned in response. He stood up suddenly, pulling you onto his bed, still inside you. Lying on your back, he grabbed your legs and bent them against your chest. The penetration suddenly became deeper, making you cry out in pleasure, unable to focus on potential roommates.
"Loki... Damn it... Don't stop."
He pressed further against your body, pushing himself even deeper into you. His icy body slammed against your hot one, and the sensations made you tighten around him.
He grabbed your throat with one hand and squeezed gently. His grunts intensified; he was close. You opened your eyes and stared into his.
"Oh, my dear mortal, you take me so well." He moaned. “Come for me, scream my name.”
He fucked you roughly, his breath crashing against yours. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, and it was too much. You writhed beneath him and came all over his cock, your walls trapping him again and again.
“Loki, god, yes.”
He struggled a little longer, his movements becoming erratic, and with a grunt, he came inside you.
He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily, your heart pounding. His cool body instantly soothed yours, and you moaned when he pulled out of you.
He stood up and moved out of sight. You draped an arm over your eyes, trying to regain control of your body and your heart.
You jumped when you felt something wet and warm on your pussy. You hadn't seen Loki come back and clean you up. He lay back on the bed, his eyes fixed to the ceiling. A soft silence fell over the room, lulled by the sound of your breathing. You turned your head towards Loki.
"You know," you said with a sigh, "if Stark's air conditioning doesn't work again soon, I'll probably have to... ask you again for some fresh air."
You wanted to sound relaxed, but your heart was beating a little too fast. You were afraid the remark would sound more serious than intended, that your nervous chuckle would betray you. Loki slowly turned his head towards you, his green eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Oh, I didn't doubt it for a second, darling," he said in that tone that was both mocking and charming. "Mortals always have such a hard time doing without my talents."
You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips.
"That's not what I said."
"No, but that's what you thought," he replied quietly, his eyes shining.
You felt the heat on your cheeks. Loki straightened slightly, his smile still there. He brushed his lips against yours, his breath against yours, his hand clinging to your hip.
"Don't worry pet," he murmured, "I'll be here the next time you need me. Whether it's for warmth, or for something else."
He slumped back onto the pillow, feigning complete indifference.
"At this rate, you might end up blessing Stark for his broken air conditioning."
You burst out laughing despite yourself, the tension suddenly easing. Maybe the heatwave had had its upside after all.