Loki prowled his bedroom in the stupid Avenger's stupid tower, pacing back and forth across the tiny claustrophobic space. He growled softly, wishing for more room. He usually liked even this small room with bookshelves against every inch of wallspace, crammed with books and scrolls, the couch by the fireplace and the comfortable reading chair by the window. He usually liked this room, despite being stuck on this stupid realm.

Today?

Today it irritated him, just like everything else.

So he paced the tiny room like a caged animal. He needed to move, needed to pace, needed to do something to get this awful feeling out from under his skin. The air felt too hot and stifling though the room was frigid, as he always kept it. His clothes, the wonderfully soft fabrics he always wore, itched and chafed and irritated his skin. His skin felt too tight, too hot, too... everything.

He knew it was getting close. It was too near midwinter, too near when all the jotuns went into heat. Every year he tried to deny it, tried to hold back the feelings and the hell of those awful days. Tried to stop his body's need from consuming his precious mind.

And each year he failed.

This year was shaping up to be no different.

And yet, he needed it to be different. Not for his sake. Never for his sake.

For yours.

For the little mortal Midgardian in his life.

For the love he hadn't told of this curse. He was too embarrassed to tell you, though he'd been trying to come up with a way to warn you for weeks. He knew it was getting close and yet he kept denying, kept postponing, kept hoping that this time, that this time would be different.

He paced and paced his room, getting more and more agitated, knowing what was coming and knowing that he was incapable of stopping it.

Much as it killed him every year when it happened.

He glanced at his hands as he was absently picking at his left palm and cursed. Loudly. And in multiple languages.

His fingers had turned blue.

He was out of time.

He didn't have time to explain it to you. His blood was starting to boil in his veins.

If he saw you now. No. He couldn't see you now. If he did, he wouldn't be able to control himself and that would not end well. No. He wouldcontrol himself. He was not a monster, despite what his other form looked like. He could keep his mind intact that much.

But the need.

He shook his head, shook those thoughts from his mind. They wouldn't help. He had to make sure you were safe from him. That was all there was to it.

And that meant talking to Thor. As it did every year.

Thor was the only one he trusted to make sure he didn't do something he would regret while the monster was in control. While his beautiful intelligent mind, the pride of his very being, was usurped by the monster's desires.

He could fight against the desires of his body. He could. He wasn't a monster, but he wouldn't take that risk either. Especially not with your safety. Because the moment he saw you, the moment he started... He shuddered. If he saw you like this, he wasn't convinced he could keep himself from ravaging you.

He didn't trust himself. Not like this.

So he was going to make damn well sure that you were safe from him.

He cursed again, his blue jotun skin with its raised runic markings had spread from his fingertips up his arms to his elbows.

He was out of time.

His mind might not have been thinking entirely clearly when he made his plan. The only thing he could think of was making sure you were safe. He left the confines of his cramped room and prowled his way with a feline grace down the hall to your door. It took every ounce of his self control not to open that door. Instead, he listened carefully and heard your TV on inside and heard you move about the room. He sighed in relief that you were there and safe.

There and safe was where you would remain.

At least if Loki had anything to say about it.

"I'm sorry, my love. I promise I will explain once this is over and it is safe to see you again," he whispered before he shielded the door, locking it from the outside, and blocking it with a chair for good measure. You weren't getting out of a locked room, especially when he had shielded it with magic.

That taken care of, he turned to go find Thor.

"Loki?" you asked from inside the room, feeling his magic. You'd been dating the god for nearly a year and you had learned the feel of his magic. He'd done spells around you often enough. You felt him, but he hadn't come into your room or even knocked. That was strange.

Loki heard your soft call and it was enough to stop his retreat. His body wouldn't even listen to his commands to move. You were what he needed to relieve the awful feeling under his skin, the desire rising, the boiling of his blood.

You could fix it.

He just had to let you.

He shook that thought from his mind. He couldn't endanger you with the monster.

You tried the door and found it locked. You felt the shielding in it too. What in the nine levels of hell was going on? "Loki?" you demanded more loudly.

Loki took a step back towards your door.

No.

He couldn't.

"I'm sorry, love," he called and fled to go find his brother.

*

You growled in anger. Your boyfriend had locked you in your room! He hadn't even said why. All he gave was a simple "I'm sorry". Well, "I'm sorry" wasn't good enough. He was going to have a lot of explaining to do once you got out of this mess.

You glared up at the ceiling. "Jarvis, unlock the door," you demanded.

"I apologize, miss, I cannot. Even if I could, there is a chair under the doorknob and magic shield around the door," Jarvis apologized.

You growled again louder. He'd locked you in your room, shielded you in with magic, and placed a chair under the doorknob. What on earth was going on? Why wouldn't he just tell you? You were supposed to face everything together. That was the agreement.

You'd remind him of that as soon as you'd finished kicking his ass.

But first... First you had to get out of this room.

Therein laid the problem. The door was out the the question. The window was bulletproof glass. There was no one in the hallway to help you, even if they could get past Loki's shielding. Except... Loki's shield was only on the door. "Vision!" you called, hoping he was nearby and could hear you. His head phased through the wall next to your door a minute later.

"Did you know there is a magic warding around your door? And a chair placed in an awkward angle?" he asked you.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. "Yes, Vis. My idiot boyfriend locked me in here for some reason. Now will you help me go through the wall and get out of here so I can find out what's going on?" you asked him heatedly. He looked conflicted for a moment, sure if you were locked in your room there had to be a reason. But he didn't like cages and no one had told him not to let you out of your room. He took your hand and phased the two of you through the wall into the hallway. "Thanks, Vis," you told him quickly. He nodded and started to say something, but you were already on the warpath to find your wayward boyfriend.

He wasn't in his room.

Or the library.

Or Thor's room.

Or the kitchen.

Or training room.

You finally tracked down Thor in the common room and glared at him. "Where is he?" you demanded of the lightning god.

"Lady..." he started placatingly. He looked sheepish. He knew something.

"Thor. Tell me where he is," you demanded more firmly, glaring as hard as you could at the god.

"He doesn't wish- Lady, please,"

"Thor," you snapped. "What's going on?"

"I can't say, Lady, I promised. He is safe and out of harm's way," Thor told you too carefully.

Out of harm's way.

His harm or causing harm?

Causing harm...

Where would Thor put him to keep him from causing harm? Where would he put himself?

You turned on your heel and headed for the elevator. "Lady!" Thor called to stop you, but you were gone before he got to his feet.

You took the elevator down to the lowest floor where the detention rooms were. There was one that had been renovated after Loki moved into the tower. All anyone said about it was 'just in case'. You had a feeling you were about to find out what 'just in case' meant.

You opened the door to find a plush, comfortable looking bed with a figure laying on it. Though, the figure couldn't have been comfortable with its arms spread like that. You stepped further into the room and the figure sat up and you couldn't help the gasp of surprise when the figure sat up and snarled softly, struggling against... his bonds. The figure had sapphire skin, scarlet eyes, and horns. And had manacles around his wrists, holding his arms splayed from his body and wrapped around the bedposts before secured into the concrete behind the bed.

The man looked pleased, needy, desperate for a moment before conscious thought seemed to appear in his eyes and his expression turned horrified. "Y/N, no! Please, go! You can't see me like this! Please, leave now. I'll hurt you. I can't control it, please" he begged. His breathing was ragged. His cheeks were flushed purple and he strained against his bonds to get to you.

You would recognize that voice anywhere.

Loki.

In an instant you knew that this is what he looked like as a frost giant. He hadn't shown you before. He hadn't wanted to scare you away. No matter how you'd asked, he'd refused to show you.

You stepped further into the room, next to the bed Loki was chained to. He was shirtless and you could see his muscles straining against his bonds. "Loki, what's going on?" you asked him gently.

He moaned at just the sound of your voice and you saw his erection straining against the confines of his pajama pants. It didn't take a leap of logic to realize that jotuns must go into heat.

"Y/N, please," he begged, his voice a whimper and you no longer knew if he was begging you to leave or to help him.

"Alright, Loki. It's ok," you reassured him. His eyes couldn't leave your body as he strained against his bonds. You saw the runes etched into the manacles and realized his magic was bound. He couldn't escape. This was planned by him. And Thor most likely. To keep him from hurting anyone when his control was less than stellar.

But he couldn't hurt you if he was chained to the bed, and he was so desperate and needy. He was your boyfriend and you were in this together. You'd yell at him later when he was in his right mind again. In the meantime...

You slipped off your shirt and let it drop to the floor. "Y/N, what are you-?" his voice was a husky growl as he tried to get the words out. As he tried to think through the haze of desire. He bucked against his chains, trying to get to you, but he was held fast against.

"Let me help you," you bid him gently.

He whimpered in helpless desire as you slipped out of your jeans, letting them fall to the floor next to your shirt.

"I'll hurt you," he whimpered, but his protests were weak at best.

You laughed and he snarled and struggled, but couldn't get anywhere. "Love, you're chained to a bed. You can't hurt me. Nor would you, even when you're clearly not in your right mind," you told him. "Now let me help you," you repeated as you slipped out of your underthings.

"Please," he begged.

You climbed onto the bed with him and leaned down to kiss him softly. He rose as far as his chains would allow, whimpering softly in desire as his lips greedily met yours, as he kissed you as deeply as he could. You kept the kisses soft, kept just nearly in reach, proving to both of you that you were in control and he wasn't going to hurt you.

Your finger trailed down his bare chest and he shuddered in desire and tried to rise to kiss you, moaning in desire. You broke the kiss and he whimpered helplessly until you trailed kisses down his neck and chest. His skin was colder than usual, though his face was flushed purple. Until you sucked on the sweet spot on his neck that always made him squirm, he made the most delicious noise as he melted in pleasure, though his hips bucked, pleading for release. You continued kissing your way down his body, flicking his nipples with your tongue, running your tongue over the raised ridges on his skin.

It didn't matter to you that his skin was blue, or his desperate eyes scarlet. He was still your Loki no matter what he looked like.

You trailed kisses down his body and his stiffened, squirmed, shuddered. He whimpered and moaned with desire, trying to speed you along in his desperation for physical attention, for physical relief.

You carefully slid his pajama pants down his hips, his legs, and finally off of him.

His erection seemed larger than usual in this form. He was already hard and ready from just a few kisses. So ready that precum leaked from the nearly purple head. His hips bucked when he caught where your attention was, silently begging.

You obliged him, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him. He kissed you hungrily, greedily, helpless to keep you there, but trying through sheer desperation. You used a hand to guide him inside, and carefully, carefully eased yourself onto him, stretching your opening to allow his girth. You tried to control the pace, and he moaned in frustration at the slow pace. His hips bucked again, spearing you to the core so you gasped in a mix of pleasure and pain. He moaned loudly, nearly growling as his hips rocked, as he took his much needed pleasure in you. His thrusts, even from that angle, rocked you to your core, his cock, hitting the perfect spot inside of you, drawing you closer and closer to orgasm at each thrust.

When you were both getting close, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged on it, not hard enough to truly hurt him, but hard enough. He gasped with an ungodly moan and thrust one last time, his stiff cock throbbing deep inside of you, igniting your own orgasm to crash around you.

You broke the kiss, crying out in pleasure as you spasmed around him, milking every last drop of pleasure from you both.

No sooner had you come down from the high of the orgasm was it that you realized he was still hard and was thrusting inside you again. "Loki," you moaned, not sure you were ready for another round.

He growled deep in his throat and strained against his bonds, trying to reach you, to hold you to him, to keep you in place for both of your pleasure.

He leaned up enough to capture your lips in his. He worked the kiss with every ounce of his silver-tongued skill, fighting to keep you where he could get physical relief.

He came again in minutes, bringing you with him.

You were about to climb off of him, to give your poor core a break from Loki's merciless pounding and desperate thrusts when you heard a loud crash from the wall behind the bed.

Before you knew what was happening, you'd been flipped on your back, Loki still buried to the hilt inside of you. He'd pinned your hands above your head with one hand, the other under you, lifting you to the perfect position and was kissing you deeply as he thrust into you, demanding another orgasm from both of you.

He'd pulled the chains from the wall in his desperation.

You were floating on a haze of endorphins when the third orgasm hit, nearly causing you to black out. "Loki," you breathed through the bliss of pleasure.

He panted for a moment, giving you both a break, though you saw the effort it took him to let you rest, to let you come down from that high.

And after that brief respite, when you could breathe and think again, his lips were back on yours, his fingers seeking your core, the nub of pleasure there to rub as he slid himself back inside.

You weren't going to be able to stand for a week after this.

Loki played your body like an instrument as he thrust inside you, coaxing yet another orgasm out of you.

You breathed a sigh of relief as he finally relented then, shifting your positions, and curling around you, holding you to him, possessively in his arms as he curled like the big spoon he was. You fell asleep in his arms. Even like this, you trusted that Loki wouldn't hurt you.

He took you again when you woke from your nap, but consented to allowing you both to eat the food that was left for you afterwards.

The rut continued for a few days in much the same manner: desperate sex, naps, eating the food that was left for you. It slowly subsided and Loki's lucidity slowly returned. Eventually there were more naps and cuddling, until he finally was able to regain his Asgardian illusion.

You smiled warmly and stroked his hair when he could, figuring the heat to be over. He looked at you with bleary exhausted eyes. Then his eyes widened in shock and horror. "Y/N? Y/N, no! You were supposed to be-"

You pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him. "I chose to come in here and I chose to help you through this. You didn't hurt me. You didn't do anything that we both didn't consent to," you reassured him.

His eyes looked haunted. "You must think me a monster..." he said, still horrified.

You kissed him softly. "Not one bit. Though you will be explaining this to me. And next time, we'll plan on getting through this together in the first place," you told him firmly. He wasn't out of trouble for locking you in your room.

"You would- after what I did?"

"Yes, silly god. I love you, and we're in this together. But you will not lock me in my room again,"

"Yes ma'am," he told you with his trademark smirk.

You kissed him softly again. "I love you, silly trickster,"

"I love you too, dearheart," he told you and you could hear the warmth and relief in his voice.