The music in Tony Stark’s tower pulsed through the floor—bass heavy, lights low, laughter echoing off glass walls that overlooked the glittering New York skyline. Another one of his “casual” parties, which meant half the Avengers pretending they weren’t on edge and the other half actually enjoying themselves.

You stood near the bar with Wanda Maximoff and Pepper Potts, laughing at something Wanda had murmured under her breath. Pepper had a hand wrapped around a champagne flute, shaking her head fondly as the band on the balcony attempted a dramatic remix of an 80s song Tony insisted was iconic.

You felt light. Relaxed. Safe.

Across the room, emerald eyes tracked you.

Loki Laufeyson leaned against one of the marble pillars, drink untouched in his hand. His sharp gaze softened as it settled on you—until someone else stepped into your space.

A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Tall. Clean-cut. The kind who thought smirking counted as charm.

Loki stilled.

The agent leaned casually against the wall beside you, invading just enough of your orbit to be deliberate. “Where’s your scary boyfriend?” he asked, tone laced with mock curiosity. “I was hoping to see some dramatic cape flourish.”

You raised a single eyebrow, unimpressed. “Probably off doing scary boyfriend things.”

Wanda hid a smirk behind her glass. Pepper’s eyes flicked past the agent’s shoulder—already knowing.

A cool presence slipped in behind you. Not loud. Not rushed. Just inevitable.

Arms slid around your waist—firm, possessive, familiar. The rich scent of leather and something darker wrapped around you as Loki’s body aligned perfectly with yours. His chin settled lightly on your shoulder, cool cheek brushing your temple.

You leaned back into him without hesitation.

“Darling,” Loki murmured, voice silk over steel. “I do hope I’m not interrupting.”

The agent stiffened.

Loki’s hands rested comfortably at your hips, fingers splayed as if you belonged there—which, in his mind, you did. His lips curved faintly, though his eyes were sharp and assessing.

“Oh,” the agent cleared his throat, forcing a chuckle. “Was just asking where you were.”

“Were you?” Loki replied smoothly. “How thoughtful.”

The temperature around you seemed to drop a degree.

You tilted your head slightly toward him. “He was concerned you weren’t being scary enough.”

Loki hummed thoughtfully, his nose brushing just beneath your ear. “My reputation precedes me. I would hate to disappoint.”

A flicker of green shimmered briefly in his irises—subtle, controlled, but unmistakable.

The agent swallowed. “Right. Well. Good to see you both.” He pushed off the wall a little too quickly. “Enjoy the party.”

He disappeared into the crowd.

Silence lingered for half a beat before Wanda snorted quietly. Pepper shook her head. “I give that one ten minutes before he transfers departments.”

Loki exhaled softly against your skin, tension easing now that the perceived threat was gone. His grip softened—but didn’t release you.

“Scary boyfriend things?” he murmured into your hair.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his. “You know. Brooding. Looming. Plotting world domination.”

“Mm,” he mused. “I postponed world domination for you this evening.”

You turned slightly in his arms, just enough to glance back at him. “How generous.”

His lips brushed the curve of your temple—brief, restrained, but unmistakably affectionate. “Let him ask again,” Loki said quietly, eyes glinting with playful danger. “I do so enjoy live demonstrations.”

But the way his thumb traced a slow, absent circle at your waist betrayed the truth.

He wasn’t angry.

He was simply reminding the room—

You were his.