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fuzzyfeatheredcas · 22 days ago

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This Means War

synopsis: When cabin fever reaches boiling point, your teammates' boredom turns into a test of your stamina. After a bit of tickling sends you crumbling to the mat during training, you're goaded into proving you wouldn't spill state secrets if an enemy found your weak spots... by subjecting yourself to the hands of the God of Mischief.

wc: ~5200

pairing: Loki x female reader (flirtatious). Bucky, Thor, Steve also included platonically.

cw: MINORS DNI, swearing, use of physical restraints, interrogation scenario, tickling (a lot of it. this is a tickle fic)

extra content warning: this story contains a faux-interrogation scene. the reader consented to it and has the ability to stop it at any moment. i do not usually allow the word "stop" to be ignored in a tickle fic - this fic is the exception because the reader has a safe word. The tickling in this feels a lot more intense (to me) than my previous fics so please be warned.

Your fate was sealed before it even started.

It happened too fast to control.

It started so innocuously. You were locked in a spar with Loki. Parrying high, pivoting low, flirting around that usual edge of real violence.

You had been sharp today - precise, clean, dangerous. Steve was nursing a bruise. Bucky’s jaw was red where you’d clocked him. Even Thor looked impressed, his cape torn at the hem where your blade had snagged it mid-spin.

But Loki always had a way of slipping past your guard.

You got the sense that he'd figured out the softest spots of you - mentally and otherwise - long ago. That he'd... catalogued them. That he took great delight in silently holding the knowledge of where to press. And how. He could get under your skin like no one else could. Burrowing deeper with heated looks at unpredictable moments, then ebbing back with pure professionalism at others.

It kept you humble when it came to facing him on the mats.

Usually.

Today... you didn't know what it was. Maybe the thrill of landing solid hits on two super soldiers and a Norse god. Maybe you got cocky.

Maybe the curl falling loose from the hair knotted low at his nape was just too distracting.

But you tried a move too risky, and he slipped past your guard. You caught his brow raising brow as he evaded your fist. The micro-second comment in the gesture went something like:

You really thought that would work?

Yes. It would've worked against a lesser fighter. The fact that you thought it might work against him... well, that was paramount to insult. Not something he'd let slide. Not when you made clear, time and time again, to all of these super-people: going easy on you wouldn't help be better.

So they didn't go easy - but that didn't mean they'd meet your mistake with a punch that could shatter your sternum. Usually, you'd just get pushed off balance, or pinned to the mat, or locked in some uncomfortable position until you could explain what you'd done wrong. Which was fine. It all helped.

Today, however, it seemed Loki wanted to teach you an extra little lesson.

His palm swept up, thumb hooking into the soft space under your arm. You slammed your bicep down on reflex, wincing, trapping his thumb as his fingers wrapped around and pressed into the sensitive muscle under your scapula.

His fingers didn't stop at pressing. A choked gasp was forced from your mouth, your body jolting before your mind realising that his fingers were wiggling, you were squirming, he was tickling you.

Your knees buckled, eyes wild and flying to his calculated stare.

He watch you as you slowly sunk lower, his head cocked, his smirk spreading when the first startled, hapless giggle bubbled over your lips.

Get away get away get away- every single base animal instinct flooded into flight. You pushed back on your heels, dislodging his hand from under your arm as your backside hit the floor. You were spluttering, panting, giggling - fucking giggling, of all things - and you felt yourself moving to scoot back, eyes fixed on the god standing above you.

He didn't press his advantage. He didn't have to. He just stood over you, that same brow arched, blue eyes glinting with something cold and curious and satisfied. "Well," he murmured. "That's new."

You clenched your jaw, regaining composure, forcing yourself back up to stand. "Dick," you grumbled, straightening your clothes as warmth crept up your neck.

"Fascinating, really," his smirk grew, eyes scanning over you. "Have you always been so-"

"Shut it," you warned, glare cutting to him.

"Oh no," he gave a single shake of his head. "You're not getting out of this one."

Not after what you just tried to pull, was the unspoken subtext.

Shit. You should've known better than to try such a cheap trick on a god with an ego the size of the fucking continental United States.

Loki locked his fingers behind his back, started pacing around you, appraising. “Battle-hardened Avenger felled by a few seconds of tickling…" He swung his gaze to the others. More specifically, Steve. "You didn't think to train this out of her?"

Steve had straightened, fists gripping the ends of the towel slung around his neck, eyebrows raised. "Train?"

Bucky tilted his head, watching you like a hawk. "Huh."

"Oh, come on," you started, rolling your eyes, hands on your hips, trying to brush it off. "This is not something that requires training."

“You squealed,” Bucky said, grin now forming.

“I did not.”

"You crumbled," Steve grimaced with a playful edge behind it.

“Like wet paper,” Loki added. "It was rather... adorable, actually."

"This could be a problem," Thor hummed in thought. "Could it not? If your enemies learn of this."

Your head snapped to him. Then your eyes back to the others.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The team had been without mission for almost two weeks; the boys were bored. And you'd just handed them some free entertainment.

You took a measured breath through your nose, and assured Thor: "They won’t."

"But if they did..." Steve started, slowly.

You turned. He was looking at you - not mocking, not smug. Just… calculating. Thoughtful.

You frowned. "Then what?"

"They’d have leverage," Bucky said.

"I wear full body armour."

"Armour can be compromised."

You could feel the shift happening.

The slow, creeping change in the air.

Loki was already grinning again, full teeth. "Pressure point training, perhaps?"

You scoffed. "Absolutely not."

Thor crossed his arms, ducking his head as if weighing the option. "It may be wise."

You crossed your own, arguing, "There's no proven method of desensitisation; you can't train someone out of being ticklish, Loki's just stirring mischief."

But Steve was quiet, eyes shifting to Bucky. Bucky’s arms were crossed too now, mouth twitching, his eyes finding Steve's.

You clocked the exits.

Three of them. One closest, but Thor stood near. The second was by Steve, and Loki, in his pacing, had subtly moved to block the third.

Fucking shit.

"Let’s just say," Bucky started, shrugging one shoulder, "we’re in the field. You’re caught. Someone finds a sweet spot-"

"-and they want to know where some files are hidden," Steve adds.

Loki hums in agreement, faux-consideration painted across him. "Security codes... contingency plans..."

You shifted from one foot to the other, hackles raising. "This is not a realistic scenario. On what planet would I ever be tickled for information?"

"Several," Thor nodded thoughtfully, looking to Loki. "At least four in this universe alone."

"Hmm, yes," Loki confirmed. "And I do believe in some factions on Sakaar."

You rubbed your temples. "This is not happening," you said. Mostly to yourself.

"There’s no harm in proving you’d withstand it," Steve said, voice calm. It almost sounded reasonable.

Your eyes flicked to him. You scoffed again. "Don't use your Captain America voice on me like you actually-"

He met your gaze evenly. And you stopped talking.

Because suddenly... you knew.

He wasn’t joking.

He was serious.

Not cruel. Not cold. Just… decisive. Like an older brother about to teach you a hard lesson for your own good.

You felt the breath stick in your chest.

"Steve. C'mon."

He straightened up, slow.

Bucky’s grin widened.

Thor stretched his arms with a lazy flex.

Loki turned toward you, smirking.

Your stomach dropped clean through the floor. Bucky took a step forward and you flinched, body readying to bolt.

"Hey," Bucky said, lifting his hands like he was trying to ease the tension. "You don’t have to prove anything."

You glared. "That’s exactly what this is."

"No," he corrected, smile just shy of cruel. "This is about making sure you don’t give up state secrets just to make it stop."

Your face burned. "I would never-"

"Good," Loki cut in, eyes glittering. "You're confident. You'll have no issue proving it, then."

You blinked. "What?"

Steve’s voice was low. Final. "We should put it to the test."

And just like that, the temperature in the room dropped. Your heart slammed into your ribs.

You were boxed in. Outnumbered. Outplayed.

"Steve. You’re not seriously suggesting simulating an interrogation where I'm..." you winced at the mere thought - betraying your nerves.

He shrugged in that infuriatingly calm, Captain America way. “Look, I trust you. But you always say training should cover every angle. This is just... one of them.” He tried not to smile.

You hated how much they were enjoying this. Bucky wasn’t even hiding his grin. Thor was scratching his beard thoughtfully, nodding like this was all so fucking reasonable.

Your jaw hung slack, you glared at Steve. "You're seriously gonna make me do this?"

Steve's head went to the side in thought. "No. It's your choice."

Loki didn’t even pretend. His smirk stayed plastered across his face like he had been waiting its whole life for this moment. "Of course, we'd never force you to prove it..." Loki raised his hands in surrender. "Not if it would be too much for you."

Okay. Now your pride was involved.

Loki continued. "If you're afraid... you just can say so."

He knew exactly how to bait you. It was so obvious.

But it still fucking worked. And that was on you.

You sucked your teeth, arms still crossed, jaw tense, looking between the varying degrees of smug in your teammates.

And a thought passed over you. About Steve. His leadership, his honour, and the way you trusted him so intrinsically with your life you knew he'd never let something like this go too far. So your eyes met his.

“Well?” He asked, calm and expectant.

You let out a tense breath through your nose.

"I'll follow your orders, Cap," you said, dropping your arms, squaring your shoulders. "What'll it be?"

This was one of those freeze-frame record-scratch moments where the narrator says 'Yep - that’s me. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this position.'

You flexed your fingers before gripping the edge of the armrest. The cuffs were snug but not uncomfortable. The chair itself - fetched by Bucky while the terms of the test were set - wasn't too bad, either. Cushioned seat and back, padded cuffs securing the wrists to the armrests and ankles to the front legs. It wouldn't hold any of the men around you, but you didn't have lightening or serum in your veins.

One small test proved no give, no rattling, was enough for that little molten thread of helplessness to start curling down your spine. All part of the mind games.

Trying to relax into the chair, your eyes landed on Loki, who was approaching you with all the slow, deliberate lethality of a black panther.

Of course, he was the one chosen to... do this.

His hand reached out and tested one cuff. "You seem tense."

"Bite me."

He chuckled, beginning to circle the chair slowly, trying to get in your head. Trying to build tension. It was working.

"The objective is simple. Don't give up the code word." His eyes flicked to Steve and Bucky. "Have you decided on what that word will be?"

Bucky nodded once, calling out, "cucumber."

You groaned. "That is the stupidest-"

"Exactly," Steve said. "You won't say it by accident. You try to hold out. You say it - that's surrender."

You felt Loki's fingers rest against the back of the chair. "Do you understand the rules, agent?"

You sniffed, jaw tight. "Don’t say the fucking vegetable."

"You ready?" Steve crossed his arms, failing to hide his amused smile.

No one in this room was under the impression that this was anything other than an exercise in the folly of boredom and pride. But here you were, about to hit play on that that freeze-frame record-scratch moment, and you wondered why the hell you ever agreed to this.

You did have an out - whenever you wanted it, you could say the word - but that steady fire inside you was stoked. White hot. You'd be damned if Loki snuffed it.

You'd be damned if he won.

"Ready," you confirmed.

He began.

Loki's touch was feather-light at first. Deceptively gentle. Fingers trailing over your sides like whispers.

They wanted a show? You'd give them a show. You'd show them exactly what you'd do if this was an enemy situation.

You flinched. "What the fuck are you doing?" Your head swung around, wearing a mask of confusion, fear, and pure innocence.

Loki's eyes narrowed. Ah. He seemed to say. This is how you want to play.

His voice was ice. Frostbitten. Severe. "What's the code word, Agent?"

"Wha-" you jerked again, eyes darting down to see his fingers at your sides, pressing a little firmer. Seeking. "I don't- what are you doing?"

He didn’t fumble or poke randomly. No, he searched.

"I'm under strict orders to not leave a mark, Agent," Loki's cold voice sounded vaguely distracted. "You have a code word I need..."

Then he found a spot. Just under the lower edge of your ribs, to the side. Your breath caught. Muscles locked. He paused.

"And I think I've just found a way to get it from you."

He wasn't clumsy. Not even a little.

"What code word? What are you even talking about? What-"

You stopped, looked down, watched as his middle finger and ring finger readied. You felt his other palm flatten against the opposite side of your waist in preparation to keep you in place.

You opened your mouth to say something, but then his fingers moved.

Sensation exploded like a switch had been flipped. Your hips jolted in the chair, a strangled sound caught in your throat as he pressed into that cluster of nerves with terrifying precision. Not a scratch or a dig - no, he hooked and circled slowly, keeping a maddening pressure on just the right spot. You were squirming violently in seconds, laughter ripping out of you against your will.

"Shit- Loki, fuck-" you broke your character, gasping between fits of laughter, voice hoarse and breaking. You tried twisting away, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.

"Code word," he demanded.

You scrambled to collect your thoughts. Okay - okay - you could work with this. Fortify your mind. Let your body react. You tried to get a grip. Tried to find his rhythm and tell your brain it was no grave threat.

But half a minute later and he hadn't eased off. And it was only tickling more with every passing second.

"Please!" You gasped out, shaking your head. "I don't know what you're-"

He doubled - the palm against your other side began mirroring the same pattern with eerie symmetry. Pinpoint accuracy into that soft spot. Every movement surgical. Like he’d done this a thousand times.

Somewhere in the haze you sense him leaning down, felt his breath hot against your ear. "I know you have what I'm looking for."

"I don't!" you squealed, head hitting back against his shoulder as you twisted helplessly, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. "Fuck- please stop!"

"I can't stop this. Only you can. Say the word," he said softly.

You whimpered through breathless giggles as you tried to collect yourself enough to respond. "I don't- fuck- I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't believe you."

His pointer finger joined the fray and your body convulsed with laughter, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He hadn’t even moved from that godforsaken spot on your ribs. And he hadn’t lost rhythm once.

"Fuck!" You thrashed, as much as the chair would let you. "I- this is- this is inhumane!"

A low hum by your other ear. The other devil on the other shoulder. "You're in control, Agent. You can make this stop any time."

He didn’t move fast. He didn’t need to. It was the control that was killing you. The way he’d learned your body in seconds. That single spot already made your arms jerk, your breath hitch, your laughter take on a desperate edge.

"Make no mistake," he murmured. "I'm going to win. You really think this is the worst it can be? Give me the word. Now."

"I don't have the fucking word!" you shrieked between wheezes, before falling into a new spout of laughter. You gave a sound that might’ve been a laugh or a sob, it was hard to tell. Loki’s wicked hands hadn't stopped.

"She's doin' good," Bucky observed, tilting his head. "Holding out. The denial is still convincing."

"Stubborn," Thor nodded with a proud smile. "Like a goat."

"She’s trembling," Loki noted, sounding pleased. You were - your thighs tensed, stomach quaking with every new ripple of sensation.

Without warning, he shot his hands downward.

You practically launched out of the chair when he reached the top of your hip, just above your belt line. Another pressure point. The nerves there sent shocks across your pelvis, up your spine. It was like your body didn’t belong to you anymore.

"No- no, no, no-!" you laughed, voice wild now, cracked from overuse.

"You’re strong," Loki said quietly, voice still near your ear, breath warm on your neck. "But not unbreakable. I’m going to find where you crack."

You turned your face away, blinking tears of mirth from your lashes. "I’m going to kill you when this is over."

"I look forward to it," he said, moving inward to the sliver of skin on your lower stomach, scratching with feather-light precision.

You jolted again, high-pitched laughter tearing out of your lungs, knees bucking instinctively as he zeroed in.

Cucumber. It was on the tip of your fucking tongue. So you bit down on it. Sealed your lips as best you could.

Loki leaned in. "What's this? Trying to keep quiet now?"

You swallowed it. Shook your head.

A particularly cruel and precise tickle along the dips of your hips pulled a shrieking laugh from the loud place in your throat, wrists pulling against the cuffs.

He chuckled, knowing he was closer to winning.

So he went back to your ribs.

Your laughter returned in full, broken and helpless, your face hot with fury and embarrassment.

But still, you didn’t say cucumber.

You'd be damned to let him win after all of this.

Loki’s voice dropped, barely audible now. "You’re going to lose," he whispered, "So be a good girl, and surrender. Just say the word."

Your mouth opened. Then closed. You shook your head violently.

Your pride was still stronger, even as your breath was now ragged, chest rising and falling as you jerked against the cuffs, muscles locked and twitching from the relentless tickling, even as your laughter had taken on a half-wheezing, half-growling edge.

Loki hadn’t let up for a second, his hands maddeningly precise, but then...

He stopped. Pulled his hands away.

You gulped air. Relished in the reprieve. Wondering if-

"Don't think for a second I'm done with you," his voice curled around the base of your neck. "Tell me the code word."

You panted, head lolling. It had only been a few minutes, you knew that, but it had felt like a fucking lifetime. Shit.

"You're not listening," you let defeat permeate your tone. "You got the wrong person. I don't... I don't have what you want." You gave a weak tug at the cuffs, acting the part.

"Oh, you're very good," Loki praised in a dark chuckle.

You felt him grip the back of your chair. And you knew what he was planning.

"Wait-"

He pulled. The chair tipped backward as he lowered it slowly, until the rear legs landed on the floor and you were laying on your back, head against the mat.

You thrashed instantly. "Wait. Wait- fuck," you winced.

He moved with a maddening slowness, shooting an amused glance to the chuckling onlookers.

"Don't you fucking dare."

But he stopped in front of where your ankles were cuffed, your boots perfectly level with where his hands naturally rested at his sides.

"Uh oh," Bucky laughed outright. You shot him a pissed off yet wary glance.

Steve laughed. "You can say the word," he reminded you, but there was a teasing note behind it.

That smugness nudged you to get back in the zone. To prove them all wrong. Make them all pay.

Loki tugged. The first boot came off with a soft pull. And then the second. The cold air hit your socked feet like a ominous wind, curling in the atmosphere like dread.

You winced again. You weren't prepared. You weren't prepared. Feet were always protected, armoured, out of reach. You can't remember the last time someone touched your feet, much less-

"I've seen that look before," Bucky clicked his tongue. You shot him a nervous glance. His eyes met yours but he spoke to the others: "That's the look of someone who knows they're in trouble."

You weren’t wearing thick standard-issue tactical socks. No, of course not. You’d thrown on some stupid breathable pair. They were thin - too thin.

You shot an indiscernible look to the Captain.

He shrugged. Giving you that gleam in his eye that said: You can make this stop any time you want. All it'll cost you is pride.

You licked your drying lips, turning back to Loki. His hands hadn't touched you yet. Still, he was studying your reactions.

You kicked, knees jolting, but your ankles didn't move. He smirked.

"You've gone quiet," he said, cool and detached. "Is that fear?"

"Fury," you seethed. "Pure. Fucking. F-fffrrmm-!"

You bit off the noise as his fingers barely stroked across the arch of your right foot. It was a featherlight graze, and it'd already sent pressure prickling behind your eyes. You swallowed a whimper, sealing your lips, squeezing your eyes shut.

He hummed. "Interesting."

Then he began in earnest.

His fingertips pressed into your arches with a kind of maddening detachment. Methodical. Exploring. Not scratching or scribbling like some fumbling kid; no, he pressed, kneaded lightly, then circled. You shrieked. His thumbs dragged slowly under the balls of your feet. Your entire body bucked against the restraints.

"NO!"

Laughter then burst out of you, unfiltered and broken. It was worse than your ribs - infinitely worse. You weren’t used to touch here, weren’t braced for it. It was raw, vulnerable. Your laughter turned desperate in seconds.

"NO! LOKI! PLEASE NOT THERE!"

But that wasn't the code word. So his hands didn’t stop. If anything, they moved slower. More precise. He was watching your face the entire time - his eyes locked onto every flicker of reaction, every twitch of your mouth or squint of your eyes.

"PLEASE! PLEASE - ANYWHERE ELSE!"

"Well, shit," Bucky snorted. "That worked way too fast."

"What’s the code word?" Loki asked, voice low and flat.

"Fuck YOU-AHH! NO- SHIT!"

His fingers slid to your toes, tracing beneath them with deliberate purpose. You howled with laughter, head flinging back, toes curling as if that could protect you. The nerves in your feet were shot. You couldn’t even pretend composure anymore. He’d hit a level of sensitivity that was obscene.

"Code word," Loki said again, unblinking.

You shook your head, thrashing wildly.

"Don’t know it!" you yelled, tears streaking down your cheeks from the force of it. "I swear - I don’t know it!"

"Oh?" Loki tilted his head. "I think you're lying to me, Agent. Do you know what happens to liars?" His thumbs returned to the spot right beneath your toes and began that horrible circular pressure again.

You screamed - an actual, ragged scream laced with helpless mirth. Your back arched, every muscle straining against the cuffs. Your following laughter was high and unrelenting, like bursting open a dam and letting everything flood out.

"PLEASE!" you cried, playing it up now, blending real helplessness with theatrics. "I don’t know anything! I swear! I’m just a grunt. I’m just a - I’m not fucking built for this!"

The bystanders erupted in laughter.

"Good use of the helpless act," Steve noted, chuckling. "Classic withholding tactic."

Loki paused his movement, fingers still poised. "Code word. Now."

"Lemme go. Please," you begged, shaking your head and bracing as his fingers resumed. Your laughter trembling as your whole body quaked with it. "I don't know what you want!"

Loki’s face didn’t change. Cool, unaffected. His fingers danced under your toes, targeting the very edge of skin at the base where nerves lit up like a live wire.

"You’re lying."

"No I'm not!"

"You are. And I’m going to get the truth out of you."

He found another pocket just under your toes and lingered.

Your laughter cracked apart. Your lungs burned.

"This is going to get much, much worse for you, Agent," Loki's cold voice dropped a weight in your stomach.

"I��ll- I’ll kill you I SWEAR-" you gasped, words broken by high-pitched giggles.

"Threats, now?" Loki's brow lifted. "How quaint."

Bucky whistled low. "You gotta hand it to her. She hasn't cracked."

"I like this training," Thor declared.

Loki ignored the audience, dragging his blunt nails along the length of your arches. Back and forth, up and down. Face calm and unbothered as you went silent, laughter trapped in your upper chest, body tensing and twitching as the energy built and built and... he... he wasn't stopping. Gods, he wasn't moving from that godforsaken spot.

It tickled so fucking much.

There were no words for it. It shouldn't be possible for such a simple action to trap the breath in your chest, to send buzzes of energy through your whole body, it tickled so. fucking. much.

But the worst part? You knew this was building. Priming you for some grande finale. Readying to decimate your willpower.

"Can she breathe?" Steve's voice floated across the edge of your clouded attention.

It must've been almost fifteen seconds since you last made a sound.

Back and forth. Up and down.

Pressure building and building and...

"Hey." Bucky's wary voice was in the mix.

"Wait for it..." Loki hushed them. Your eyes were shut but you could feel his gaze on you.

Back. Forth. Up. Down.

"Loki," Thor's stern voice came. "She's mortal."

"I know, almost there..." Loki cooed.

It was coming. Cucumber. You could feel it coming. Feel the scream coiling in your chest. Almost there...

And then-

The doors hissed open.

"FRIDAY alerted me to a potential HR violation in progress," came Tony’s dry voice as he entered the room

The moment froze like a frame in a cartoon. You, a wreck, cuffed to a tipped chair, flat on your back. Boots off. Loki with stilled hands at your feet. The rest of them standing around like this was some clinical procedure and not your personal nightmare.

Tony looked around. Blinked.

"Well," he said, "this is… deeply unsettling."

The trapped laughter whooshed out of you as air flooded your lungs in deep and gratifying breaths. Loki had paused. Assessing the atmosphere. And for that, you thanked every god in this universe and beyond. You had been so close to surrender.

"She agreed to it," Steve said, unbothered.

"She volunteered," Bucky added, nudging Thor, who nodded solemnly.

"Oh, yes. She may stop the trial at any moment," Thor assured. "She need only speak the sacred word."

Tony blinked again. "And the sacred word is...?"

"Cucumber," they all said in unison.

You wanted to die.

Tony stared at them, then at you - now breathless, sweat-slick, and still twitching from residual sensation. He sighed. "Y'alright, giggles?"

You attempted to speak. But it came out as several coughs, so you just gave a weak thumbs-up.

"Okay, okay," he said, waving a hand. "As much as I’d love to see where this is going - and I mean that purely as an academic curiosity - we cannot shackle an Avenger to a chair and administer tickle torture in our down time. It’s literally in the handbook. Somewhere. It must be."

Loki had the audacity to look disappointed.

But he sighed, then reach down with maddening ease, lifting your chair upright with one smooth motion - like it weighed nothing. You slumped against it, head tilted back still gasping for breath, socked feet twitching, toes curling, body still shaking with aftershocks of laughter, a thin sheen of sweat glowing your skin.

"I hate you," you croaked at Loki.

"How tragically untrue," he chuckled.

Then the cuffs popped open with a click.

You didn’t hesitate.

The second your hands were free, shaky legs be damned, you launched yourself at Steve.

"Rogers!"

He didn’t even flinch. Just accepted his fate.

Your weight hit him square in the chest, and he let himself fall back onto the mat with a loud whump, arms catching you automatically.

"You star-spangled shithead!" you growled, rising to straddle his waist and grab his collar, jolting some sense into him. "You sanctioned that shit!?"

“I did,” Steve said evenly.

"You let Loki-... you- I'm gonna- ugh!" You grabbed a fistful of his hair and mussed it like a feral cat, gritting your teeth and growling.

"Alright, alright!" He laughed, trying to block you. "I deserved that!"

"You’re damn right you do - fucking cucumber - I’m gonna shove one straight down your- hey!"

Bucky's hands wrapped around your waist and casually hauled you off Steve like a disobedient dog. "Alright. Down, girl." You kicked the air on the way up.

"Let me at 'em. I'm not done!"

"Oh, you’re done," Bucky set you on your feet while Steve still lay disheveled on the mat.

"I’m gonna get all of you," you vowed as you straightened your clothes. "You’re all complicit."

Tony raised a finger. "Um, I actually-"

"Obviously not you, Tony!"

"Hey. You could've said the word at any time," Bucky smirked, shrugging, pulling Steve to his feet by the metal hand he offered.

You glared murder at all of them. Until your eyes landed on Loki.

He hadn’t moved.

That’s when you saw it.

The glint behind the calm. A flicker of something low and heated, still burning from the intensity of before.

Your stomach turned when you realised; you never surrendered... so he never won.

He looked at you, head tilted, mouth curved ever-so-slightly at the corner. Not smug. No. This wasn’t arrogance.

It was unfinished business.

You glared, pointing a shaky finger. "There will be retribution."

He inclined his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours. "I’ll be waiting."

You turned slowly to the rest of them, accusing finger sweeping.

"You’re all going down for this."

Bucky raised his hands. "Worth it."

Thor clapped a hand on your back that nearly knocked you over. "You lasted valiantly, dear friend."

You ignored him. "FRIDAY," you barked, steadying yourself. "Mark these bastards for revenge."

"Noted," she replied helpfully.

Tony rubbed his eyes, muttering, "You people have too much time on your hands. I should start charging rent."

But rest of them laughed at your threat. As if they weren't the slightest bit afraid.

You clenched your fists.

And then you smiled.

Sharp. Dangerous.

"You’re all gonna wish I’d said cucumber."

PART TWO (your revenge) coming soon

#marvel #the avengers #tickle fic #loki x reader #marvel reader insert #marvel x reader #HOLY SHIT BROOOO WHAT THE FUCK #OH MY GAWD #OH MY GOD #IM GONNA DIE #time to read this five more times

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