The first time Wanda Maximoff meets Loki Laufeyson, she almost kills him. He's a stranger on the battlefield, appearing out of nowhere it seems, and the sense that someone was watching her had her whirl around, eyes flashing dangerously and fingers poised threateningly. Her powers popped and cracked. The look on her face would have made any man tremble and fall to his knees, begging for mercy.

But he is no ordinary man. He lets out a laugh and asks, "Have we met, darling?" as if she isn't literally trying to squeeze the life out of him. Is he insane? "I'm -"

"I know who you are, trickster." Wanda circles around him slowly. "Brother of Thor."

Loki raises an eyebrow, tilts his chin up at her. "Is that all they told you?"

"I had a brother," she tells him gravely, lips pulling back over her teeth. "He was taken away from me like you were taken away from him. The only difference is, you keep finding a way to return. Do tell me: how is that fair?"

"Was your brother a benevolent god?"

Wanda's facial expression darkens.

"No?" Loki tilts his face to the side. "That's too bad."

Before Wanda could cut off Loki's air supply, Thor intervenes, and she flees with tears stinging in her eyes and a heavy heart.

.

The second time they encounter one another, it's inevitable. He resides in her home, by a reason that's far too complicated for Wanda to process, as many times as Thor has explained. She sits with the ladies in Jane's lab, filling them in on what happened.

"How dare he!" Jane exclaims angrily.

"I should've warned you about him." Natasha, with her arms folded across her chest, gaze somber.

"You've said enough," Wanda reassures. "I just let my emotions get the better of me, that's all."

"Loki has that effect on us all." Jane shakes her head. "He may do good for a while and you may think he's changing for the better. He saves your life once and you already believe that he can be redeemed. Then he turns around and stabs you in the back. There's no good in trusting Loki."

"I don't know, man." Darcy shrugs. "He's done nothing to me."

"Yet," Jane grumbles.

"Please. If anyone knows Loki as much as Thor, it's me."

"How?" Wanda questions her.

"Well, for as long as I've known him, we've bickered over pointless shit, and yeah, he gets on my nerves sometimes and he has a bad taste in movies, but when it all comes down to it he's just a big softie who wants to be loved and put first!"

"That's childish, Darce. Absolutely childish."

"Oh yeah? How would you feel if I was your adopted sister?"

"Not much different than how I feel about you now."

"Exactly. Because you would be in Thor's shoes. You're the smart one, babe. No one cares about the goofy intern."

Jane's eyes narrow. "I do!"

"I do," Natasha adds.

"I do," Wanda agrees.

"Aww, shucks. Anyway, my point is, no one really cares about Loki! The woman that loved him the most was ripped away from 'em! Dude's finally cracked. He's better, I promise."

"That's what Thor says." Jane puts her hand on her hip. "I still have my reasons to be skeptical, and I'm certainly still not comfortable with you hanging around him."

"He's not the only one who's been through a lot in his past," Wanda steps forward. "But that does not justify his actions. I've learned from my mistakes. I suggest he does the same before speaking to me ever again."

"Yeeeah, the whole 'being nice' thing doesn't really work for him." Darcy makes a face. "But he's not all bad."

"Are you seriously defending him?" Jane asks in disapproval.

"So what if I am? I believe in the Lokester!"

"...The Lokester."

Darcy snickers. "Yeah. He hates it."

"When he mentioned Pietro, I almost lost control." Wanda hugs herself. "I don't want that to happen again."

Jane softly touches her arm. "You know, Helen and I are still trying to figure out a way to save your brother. It's still not too late."

"I doubt that."

"Please, just keep hoping for us. That's all we need."

"It's been almost a year."

"Science takes time."

"I don't like it."

Jane's smile is pained. "Neither do I. But I can tell you what I know. His body is showing signs of reverse decay." Brown eyes brighten with determination and promise. "He'll make it. Just like Bucky did."

"You know, I'm starting to think you have a thing for him."

"Shut up, Darcy."

"I do enjoy how you continue to bury yourself deeply in denial when you're asked thought-provoking questions about your personal life." The god of lies himself enters the lab with swagger, a smirk reserved specifically for Jane. "You cannot lie to save your life."

"Unlike you, I'm not a liar," Jane quips. "Now get out of my lab. We're having a meeting."

"Pray tell, is it about me?"

"No. Get out."

"Tut, tut. Lies will only get you so far, mortal."

"Get out!" Jane grabs her pen and chucks it across the room at him. Loki stops it with a lazy flick of the wrist, tossing it to the side without even touching it.

"Your aim is getting better."

"I hate you."

"What's up, nerd?" Darcy greets Loki, who sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Darcy. Always a pleasure."

"You know you love me."

His eyes twinkled. "To an extent."

Wanda watches the exchange, baffled. Darcy is entirely comfortable. There are no signs of tenseness or fear in her small, mundane body, as if she's not aware that she's talking to the very man who almost destroyed New York and attempted to hurt her friends in the process. Especially Clint.

"You being a bad boy again?" Darcy stirs her coffee with her straw.

"Perhaps." The smirk on Loki's face widens.

"I told you, man. One day, one of these girls is gonna beat the shit outta you and I'm not gonna do anything about it."

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to be intimated? By mortals, no less?"

"This mortal tased your brother's ass into submission."

"By sheer dumb luck."

"Can we also bring up the fact that Jane smacked the both of you?"

Wanda raises an eyebrow and Jane chokes on her tea.

"That oaf deserved it."

"And you didn't?"

Loki's chin tilts upward. "Clever."

"Now," Darcy jerks her head in Wanda's direction, "I heard through the grapevine that you hurt Wanda's feelings. Apologize or I'll beat the breaks off ya."

"Beat the - what?"

"Oh, just do it!" Darcy shooed him off, and with an annoyed sigh, Loki finally turns to face the young witch.

"Wanda, is it?" Her name rolls off his tongue in a way that sends a chill down her spine, and she's startled when she realizes she has to think if she likes it or not. Now that he's up close, she realizes how tall he is and how much she has to angle her face up to maintain eye contact with him without straining herself. He's long and lanky, but toned all the same. His eyes are green, but she can see the traces of silver and gold. His hair is long and jet black, sleek and neat instead of matted with sweat.

"Save your breath, silvertongue." She leans close. "I refuse to accept an apology that is not heartfelt."

His lips curve up crookedly. "You have fire don't you, little witch?"

She smirks back. "You have no idea what I can do."

.

The third time they encounter, Pietro has returned. As soon as they set eyes on each other, the two siblings run and throw their arms around each other. Wanda kisses Jane and Helen's cheeks chastely in thanks, vulnerable and in tears of happiness. Loki is sitting by the window flipping through his novel aimlessly, only looking up when he hears the strange sound that comes from Wanda's throat: she's choking back her own sobs. Does she truly wish to not appear impotent with him in the room?

Humans are strange creatures, he muses to himself. But he finds himself watching her and her "deceased" sibling continue to embrace and tell the other how much they love them, and he feels something nasty and bitter twist his heart. How is it possible that they do not resent each other at all? Has his lie of a life poisoned him into believing that his oaf of a brother will never see him as an equal?

The witch - Wanda - catches his studious gaze from over the speedster's - Pietro's - shoulder. The elation in her eyes fade, her smile faltering, but she doesn't take her eyes off him right away. She studies him back, and Loki wonders what she's trying to find.

You are naive, little witch. Your gentle heart will ultimately be your end.

.

And yet, it's her gentle heart that...confuses him.

He never thought that there would be anyone on Midgard or the rest of the Nine Realms that puzzled him more than Darcy Lewis, but Wanda Maximoff, as the humans say, takes the cake. Her abilities are similar to his own, you see. He keeps her out of his mind, and she keeps him out of her mind. Not many can say their minds haven't been invaded by the trickster god. He's taken on the Avengers before. He knows all their secrets, their fears. Steve fears chaos and destruction, and never being able to start a family because of his reckless lifestyle. Natasha fears that the star spangled soldier could never love her the way she loves him. Bruce fears the monster within him. Clint fears for the safety of his wife and children. Thor fears that he will not be as great as his precious father. Tony fears that he'll lose Pepper forever because he can't bring himself to stop creating his suits. Sam fears failure. Barnes fears losing to his demons once more.

And somehow...he doesn't know what she fears.

"Little witch."

"Silvertongue."

He likes her, he decides. He likes this game they have going on between them, and he's positive that she's aware of it. She's not afraid to bite back. She looks at him directly in the eye when she speaks to him ( well, at him for a better term ), yet turns a blind eye when things begin to...warm up between them.

He can't seem to make her fear him, so he chooses the, ah, safe approach when he sees her alone in the kitchen.

"Are you alone?"

"Clearly. What do you want?"

"You can put the claws away, love. Your friends aren't around to keep you from me. Nor your precious brother."

"I can take care of myself. And I don't fear you."

"Hmm." Loki hums. "You wouldn't be the first to make that mistake."

"I will never understand how Darcy puts up with you."

"Ouch."

"You haven't harmed her. You...protect her. You protected Jane. You risked your life for Thor's. And yet there's always an ulterior motive with you. So forgive me if I don't trust you."

"I never asked for your trust, darling." He comes closer, testing the waters, seeing how long it would take for her to stiffen.

"Trust is not something you ask for. It's something you earn."

"Do you trust Stark?"

"Not in particular. It's Steve that I trust. Stark is...good. For now."

"Do you see yourself trusting him?"

"Possibly."

"So if you foresee yourself trusting the man that's responsible for the murder of your parents and putting you through imprisonment, you'd be willing to forgive the unforgivable...correct?"

"If this is about earning my trust and forgiveness, you're doing a terrible job at it."

But her lips are twitching, to prevent her from smiling.

"Our fates are intertwined, you know," Loki ghosts past her, brushing his arm against hers as he passes to retrieve a tea bag from the cabinet. "Do you know the origin of the great power in which you possess?"

"The scepter does not belong to you. It never did."

"Oh, but if it wasn't for me, where would you be? Hm?"

Wanda stares at him wordlessly, her adam's apple bobbing when she swallows, and her lips press together into a thin line. He continues to smile as he warms up water in the coffee pot, waiting for it to boil.

"Why is it that you try to read my thoughts?" she says.

A pause. "I should ask you the same question, my dear."

"Maybe I like to keep my thoughts to myself."

"Perhaps we are more alike than I originally perceived."

"We are nothing alike. You know nothing about me."

"Alright." Loki turns around and leans back, appraising her once more. "I'll play along, little witch."

"Is everything a game to you?"

"Only if it's fun."

Wanda scoffs.

"Has Jane Foster gotten to you?"

"No."

That's a lie.

He barks a laugh, "She doesn't hate me as much as she appears to. I saved her life, more than once. Put her before myself because of that oaf -"

"Or because you needed her for something else."

"That's where you're wrong."

"Oh?"

"See? If you were well acquainted with me, you'd know the truth about what happened the day of the harmonic convergence."

"...All of it?"

"All of it and more. You need only ask."

She purses those rosy lips and shifts her weight from one foot to the next. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"I'll play too."

He swallows a mischievous chuckle. Excellent. The trickster enjoys a good player.

"You know," she says slowly, "if it wasn't for the people who live in this building...I would have been in a worse place. Clint and Steve saw the good in me. In us, my brother and I. If someone caring for me can change me into a better person than I was...there might be hope for you as well, silvertongue."

"Don't tell me you're starting to care about me." His smile is mocking now, but his eyes are pained. It's too late for him. He can never, truly, be what Thor is. His demons are quiet for now. But there's only a matter of time before they consume him again. The oblivious young god who had a love for magic is long gone, replaced by something much more lonely. And that only makes him all the more dangerous.

"No." She tilts her head at him. "But this is a start."

"What if I told you that it's too late for me?"

"It's never too late," she disagrees. "You're here, aren't you?"

"Against all my will. I have no choice."

"But you could have attempted to tear us apart. Hurt us. Hurt me."

"I couldn't hurt you." It's blurted out before he could stop himself.

And yet the smallest of smiles that curves her lips is worth his stumble. "Why?"

"Ah, ah, ah," he holds up a finger. Reaching behind himself, he grabs the coffee pot and pours the hot, ready water into his mug. "You must know my favorite color before we become more acquainted."

"It's green, is it not?" she calls after him when he begins to make his leave. Lowering the mug from his mouth, he smirks but doesn't turn.

"More or less," he answers.

The color red, however, was beginning to appeal to him much more as of late, and he has a feeling it has to do with the scarlet clothed Avenger that stands rooted in the kitchen, gaze burning into the back of his head.

.

Just like that, there's a shift between them.

It's quite subtle. In fact, it even slips Loki's notice. Subconsciously, he just finds it easier to be around her. He's drawn to her, in ways he knows not. When she's in the building, he always knows where she is. If they're in the same room with the others, she's within arm's reach, but he doesn't touch her. The only acknowledgement between them is a lingering stare and nod, and the violent urge to smile, but it is fought back with difficulty.

His presence is required when the Avengers are out on a mission some weeks later and they can use an extra hand. He's at the tower, halfway through this book that he's read hundreds of times ( but Frigga gave it to him, and he can still smell her sweet, comforting scent all over the withered pages ). Now, he can really care less about human affairs and the messes the Avengers tries to clean up, but he could really do without Thor barking at him more than necessary, so he goes. He doesn't need coordinates. Just a location.

He appears at a snowy mountaintop. It's cold, but nothing he can't handle. He picks up the sound of fighting down below, but doesn't bother identifying the grunts and battle cries. In fact, quite the contrary, his first instinct is to find -

"Loki."

It's a soft whimper, but he hears it, and he immediately makes a one-eighty spin. Wanda is walking - no, limping - towards him, clutching her wounded side. Blood drips as she walks, staining the white snow with scarlet streams.

Loki's by her side instantly, catching her in his arms just as her knees buckle beneath her. Her head lolls back for a moment, but once she regains control she rests her head against his shoulder. Up close, she's warm and smells bloody fantastic ( no pun intended there ), and the back of her free hand falls against his chest.

His hand covers her blood stained one. "Well I'll be. My brother sent me out here to babysit."

"Not...funny…" she breathes, eyes fluttering closed.

"Open your eyes," he demands, and she does. "Who has done this to you? They will face my wrath."

"No, no. I need to get back to the...the jet."

"Nonsense. I'll heal you myself."

"Does it have to be in the snow?"

"Do you wish to live?"

"...Go on, then."

"Where is this jet?" he questions her.

"Just north of here. Wh -?" Wanda doesn't finish, because she's swept up in his arms and she lets out a cry.

"Stay with me, love," he tells her, and they disappear from sight.

Only to land in said jet that is indeed only a few miles from where they had been standing, concealed from sight by the heavy fog. It is occupied already, by Jane Foster and the Winter Soldier.

"Loki!" Jane clutches her chest with her free hand, her other one entwined with Bucky's as he lays on one of the med beds. "What are you doing here!" She gasps when she sees Wanda. "Is she okay?"

"Enough," he tells the scientist sternly, but his movements are tender as he lays Wanda down. "I need you not to speak."

"Wanda?" Bucky sits up, disoriented.

Wanda manages to lift a lazy hand before it falls to her side limply. "'M okay…."

Loki flexes his hands, having not done this in quite a while. Wanda is watching him closely, her own hand flying forward to grab one of his wrists right before he can touch her.

"Does it...hurt?"

"It might. At first." He pulls his hand back enough so he could curve the limb around hers. "You'll be fine."

"I trust you, Loki."

Her words almost - almost - take his breath away, but he refuses to let his face show how much that affected him. Nodding once, he uses his other hand to cover her wound. It's big enough to where he can stretch his fingers as far as they could go and they could cover it completely. There's a faint light in the jet that appears, caused from his hand turning a bright green, and immediately Wanda squeezes the hand she's still holding with discomfort. She grits her teeth, shifts uncomfortably, but he tells her, "Don't move," under his breath, and she obeys.

The stinging pain she feels initially is replaced by a cooling feeling and she lets out a sigh, her head falling against the surface of the bed. Loki is watching her face, but she thinks if she meets his gaze now, heat will flood her cheeks. His hand is surprisingly not as calloused as she thought it would be; it's slender, shaped like a pianist, and somehow felt...just right, wrapped around his this way.

"Where is Darcy?" Loki directs his question at Jane, but Wanda can still feel his intense gaze on her face.

"...Gone."

"What."

"You let her out there?" Wanda exclaims, but it comes out like a wheeze.

"No, it wasn't like that! She left after Bucky arrived," Jane explains. "I was tending to his head wound. She wasn't in my peripheral. I wasn't paying attention, I - he was bleeding, there was a lot of blood and I thought - I didn't know that she -" the astrophysicist begins to tear up in frustration and fear, frustration at herself for not noticing and fear for the woman she calls her sister.

Loki sighs heavily.

"We have to go after her," Bucky says, wincing as he tries to get up.

"No. You stay." Jane pushes him back down, and he obliges without a fight.

"She'll...be alright," Wanda murmurs to herself as realization hit her.

"What?"

Wanda's gaze is distant for a moment, and everyone looks at her suspiciously ( and in Loki's pace, growing impatience as the silence continued to drag ), but then she starts smiling. "Wait."

As if on cue, the jet opens, and Pietro speeds in with the curly brunette in his arms, setting her down mid-conversation.

"- Now when the captain says 'stay in here where you're safe', stay in here where you're safe," he scolds playfully, but the meaning behind it is real and it's evident in his eyes. He boops her nose, which makes Darcy giggle, Wanda smile, Loki grimace in disgust, Jane stare, and Bucky raise both of his eyebrows.

"Hey, if it wasn't for me, that guy woulda shot you!" Darcy defends herself. "What, I don't get a thank you?"

"That little weapon of yours is impressive, but if there were more HYDRA agents out there, they would have gotten to you first because you're a liability."

"...Right."

"You are amazing, Darcy Lewis." He takes her face in his hands and tilts her face down so he can brush his lips against her forehead. "Stupidly reckless," he adds, to which she gives him a look, and his gaze softens. "But your intentions are pure, all the same."

"Slit my throat," Loki groans.

Pietro and Darcy look over at him, finally brought down from their little cloud nine.

"Oh hey, Mischief!" Darcy waves.

"Sister!" Pietro is there before Wanda can blink, kneeling down next to her. "How are you, my love?"

"I'm fine," Wanda reassures him while Jane slams into Darcy and embraces her fiercely ( before she starts lecturing the hell out of her, of course ).

Pietro's gaze drifts down to Loki's healing hand, then over to his other hand intertwined with Wanda's on her ribcage. "What is this?"

"Thor summoned me. I'm simply here to complete a task," Loki answers before Wanda can.

"That's...nice…" Pietro says awkwardly, not knowing how he feels about this. The way Loki is smirking at him is quite unsettling.

"Loki," Wanda says, and their eyes finally meet for the first time since she laid down. She fails to notice that their little healing session is complete and his hand is still on her hip.

"Is there any particular reason why you're still holding my hand?" he teases her, and a blush blossoms over her features. "I don't mind, darling, but I don't think your brother likes that all too much."

"He's right," says Pietro absently, and Wanda rolls her eyes.

"Go away," she shoos Loki, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

"I'll take that a thank you." He winks at her.

"Don't be so full of yourself."

"Not possible."

"Yeah hey, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter, can we focus?" Darcy says loudly.

"Harry who?" they both say simultaneously.

"Oh my god. I'm so kidnapping you guys. What're you doing Saturday night?"

.

She's waiting for him Saturday evening. The lounging area of the tower consists of a few couches, a glass table, and a bar nearby, amongst other things. Her feet are bare and painted a deep burgundy, hands cupped around her cup of what he assumed to be tea because he can smell it. His cup is waiting on him, sitting on a holster on the table. Her hair is pulled back, she wears no makeup, and the getup she has on he can only assume is her nightwear; grey sweatpants and, wait, is that camisole green?

The simplicity of it all is something he can...certainly get used to.

"That color suits you," he greets, taking his mug off the table as he sits next to her, angling his body towards hers.

"I thought you'd like it," she speaks over the rim and his mouth twists into a smug grin.

"You should reconsider a new wardrobe," he says before taking a sip of his tea, now imagining her in all shades of green. Wanda in a green sundress. Wanda in green undergarments. Wanda in green skirts. Wanda in Asgardian clothing, a golden dress with a long green cape flowing behind her so they'd match…

Stop. Gods above, stop.

"You don't like my red?" Wanda feigns offense.

"I never said I didn't like red on you. It's intoxicating."

Her mouth drops and she playfully pushes him, to which he feigns being hurt ( and a dramatic hand over the heart for flare ), and then she laughs, and her laughter triggers hysterics within him and he's chuckling beside her.

"I like this," she says.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Seeing you relax and smile and laugh. Happiness looks good on you. You should reconsider a new outlook on life."

This woman...is going to be the death of him.

"I can't promise you that, I'm afraid."

Wanda hums and takes a lingering sip of her tea. "Somehow, I knew you'd say that."

"Have I disappointed you?" He's used to it.

"No. No, you haven't."

Silence.

"What is Asgard like?"

Out of all the things she could have said to break the quiet, he was not expecting that.

Loki's expression flattens. Hm, what can he say about the birthplace that isn't even his real birthplace? Where everything is a lie and you're an outcast if you prefer magic over braun? Where you're manipulated into believing that you will do great things, only to be sent spiraling down a dark path of pain and misery and resentment?

"Why don't you ask Thor?" he queries instead, reminding himself not to grip the mug too tight or else he'll break it. "He is the rightful heir to the throne," he adds in a bitter tone.

"I've heard stories from him, yes, but I want your input. I know it was different for you."

She's waiting patiently for his answer and he sighs in defeat. He cannot lie his way out of this one.

So he sets his empty mug down on the table and tells her bits and pieces. The scenery, the environment, the animals, the people, the food. The way the library can go on for miles and miles. Quiet places to read and garden and practice magic. The very few fond memories he has of Frigga ( as well as the time he turned Sif's blonde hair black, like his ). She doesn't interrupt him. She doesn't ask questions. She just...listens. And it's because of that he ends up telling her too much. Thor's coronation day. The frost giants. His plan to overthrow Odin and become king. The jealousy that still eats away at his heart. The pain from not being told the truth from the start. Letting go of his past, his family, after Thor destroyed the bridge. Coming out miraculously alive only to be tortured in every way possible. The way it's affected him and driven him further into madness when he got ahold of the scepter that gave Wanda her powers. Arriving in Midgard and fighting the Avengers. Arrested in Asgard and given a life sentence by Odin. More resentment. The heart-wrenching guilt he felt when he realized he was the one who led his mother's killer right to her. The depression and self-loathing after her death. Thor coming to retrieve him and helping him fight Malekith and his army. Protecting Jane. Saving Thor. Dying in the process. Coming back from the dead. Disguising himself as Odin. Getting caught. Getting bound to Thor. Forced to reside here, on Midgard, until Thor is needed back home.

Home...Loki scoffs. Asgard was never his home. He doesn't have one.

"I can't imagine how it would feel to be in your position," she says softly.

"Would you like me to show you?" he says back evenly.

Her eyebrows crinkle in confusion, only to gasp as he suddenly grabs her face and forces her to maintain eye contact with him. He lets his walls down, gives himself over for her to control, and lets her into his mind. He makes her feel everything he felt. Everything. Even now. His conflicted feelings towards her, every thought he's had about her, every time he's had to physically stop himself from going into her room when he could hear her having a nightmare, her lips parting to say his name, her voice, her smile -

Loki rips his hands away from her so fast as if he had just been burned, and Wanda exhales heavily like she had been holding her breath the entire time, her eyes dimming from red back to her natural green hues.

"I...understand," she pants.

"Do you?" he whispers, testing her.

Her chest lightly heaves, blood rushing through her cheeks. The silence between them is different this time. It's not peaceful and content. It's tension, unresolved, pent up tension that's so thick he can slice it with his dagger. It's heat, forbidden want. A mutual, intense longing that's been fought for so long that it gnaws and tears at them every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second.

And it's inevitably led them up to this moment.

Neither remembers who leaned in first, who grabbed who first, maybe they acted simultaneously on impulse, but Wanda's lips are on his and his hands are running up and down her spine and he has a growing, desperate need to be closer to her. There's no hesitancy, no timidness. It's raw and real, the realest thing he's ever felt in a long time. He presses his hand against the small of her back, coaxing her to come closer, and she does, scooting her body closer until their knees touch. Her thumbs smooth across his cheekbones, his jawline, his sliding down to his neck and gripping him there. The band that held her hair back somehow disappeared in the midst of their heated embrace and he takes the opportunity to run his fingers through her wavy tresses, cup her face, stroke her arms, and back up again.

With both hands, he grabs her face again, his long fingers burying themselves into her hair, and slowly sucks on her bottom lip. Wanda makes a noise that mixes between a wanton moan and a pitiful whimper, but he likes it and he wants to hear it again. He lets a hand slither down to her leg, ghosting up as high as she will let him. When she makes no move to stop him, he grabs her thigh and hoists her up, pulling her into his lap.

Wanda does moan that time, and all the heat in his body travels south. Her arms grab the arm of the couch, pinning him there, tilting her head to deepen the kiss and thrusting her hips up into his in the process and he groans.

"Wanda?"

Their lips pull apart with a thick smack, both freezing in place; Wanda looks up for the source of the voice, but Loki, as always, is one step ahead, taking her by the hips and lifting her off of his lap as if she weighs no more than a pound of feathers. Setting her down on the floor, Loki gets up himself, straightening himself up before he turns to check on her. Wanda quickly finds her ponytail holder and puts it on hastily, smoothing her hands down her shirt.

Loki leans in to brush the free strand of hair she forgotten behind her ear. They have another three seconds before they are seen. He steals one more kiss from her that leaves her breathless before he disappears from sight.

And Darcy appears at the top of the stairs.

"Wanda! There you are!"

"I never left," Wanda says, doing her best to hold herself together.

But it is very difficult.

"What's wrong? You look like you've just seen a ghost!" The curly haired woman teases.

I suppose that's better than looking like I just kissed a god.

Oh my...Loki and I...we - we just -

"Well, you aren't exactly quiet."

Loki's voice comes from right behind her and Wanda holds her breath, daring herself not to turn around.

"Mischief! I was about to go lookin' for you too!" Darcy grins. "You ready for the greatest marathon of all time?!"

"Marathon?" Wanda repeats.

"What? You thought there was only one Harry Potter movie? We're watching all eight!"

"E-Eight?"

Eight? As in twenty hours in a dark room with Loki and Darcy and a possibility that Darcy might fall asleep or leave to go to the bathroom, leaving Loki and Wanda to themselves?

...Suddenly that marathon isn't sounding like such a bad idea.

Loki chuckles beside her, most likely from hearing her thoughts, or perhaps he had been thinking of the same thing?

A warm tingle shoots down her spine.

"Yeah, eight! C'mon!" Darcy doesn't wait up, already sprinting from the room.

"Ladies first," Loki purrs in Wanda's ear, letting his lips brush against the shell.

Wanda shivers.

Melanie Martinez was on repeat while I was writing this and I have no regrets. This got longer than intended, but I love how it turned out! I don't write Wanda much but I have written Loki a bit in the past and it felt so good to write him again.

I may write a sequel to this because I love it so much.

It's all up to ya'll though ;) Feedback is deeply appreciated. Peace!