#Loki reader insert

[simplyholl]

The Bet

Summary: Loki has an interesting punishment when you lose a bet.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Vibrating panties.

A/N: Inspired by that scene in The Ugly Truth.

See my Masterlist Here

“You can’t be serious.” You take the garment from Loki, wishing you could smack the smirk off his face. “You lost the game. So you have to wear them.” He explains, crossing his arms as he leans against your doorway.

“I’ve never lost a game of Uno in my life. You were cheating.” You exaggerate, trying to talk your way out of it. “Put them on. I’ll know if you don’t.” He walks away, leaving you alone.

You and Loki were always competitive with each other, placing stupid bets on frivolous games. Two days ago, you were playing Uno when Loki wanted to make the game interesting. You had beaten him three times already, so you thought you had it in the bag.

If you win Loki had to spend an entire day doing your chores naked. He hated menial tasks, oftentimes he would pay someone else to do his cleaning and laundry. So you knew he would hate it. As for the naked part, you had eyes. You might not get along all the time, but Loki was beautiful.

You had let your dishes pile up, your laundry basket was overflowing, your floors were sticky. You had been busy with missions and Nick Fury made you attend meetings all week so you were behind.

Loki smirked when you told him what you wanted if you won. “If you want to see me naked, you only have to ask.” The devilish smile that accompanied his quip made your skin heat up from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“If I win, you will wear the clothing of my choosing to the meeting on Friday.” You accepted, he would probably make you wear a burlap sack or a silly costume. You weren’t easily embarrassed, so whatever he picked wouldn’t be an issue. Fury would be mad with your theatrics, but you had been doing his bidding all week. He owed you.

The game had been going well. You had three draw four cards in your possession, using them strategically. Then the unthinkable happened. Loki won, placing a red card with a number two on top of your card. He had to have cheated somehow. He didn’t even know how to play until a few days prior when Steve taught him.

With only seconds to spare, you slid your panties down your legs replacing them with the pair Loki gave you. They were black and lacy. You were a little unsure why he wanted you to wear these specific panties. He had to be up to something. He wasn’t the God of Mischief for nothing.

You put them on, feeling something hard under the fabric. You straighten your sun dress and fluff your hair. You look at your phone, you were already late. You didn’t have time to take them off and inspect them. You weren’t a sore loser either, so you would wear them to the meeting.

You rushed down the hall to the elevator. You get on with three others, from their white coats you could tell they worked in the labs. You waited impatiently as the elevator stopped on the tenth floor letting them off. You were five minutes late now. You dreaded whatever smart ass remark Fury would have for you.

Finally, the elevator stopped on the sixth floor. You rushed out, running down the hall to the conference room. Fury stopped speaking to turn and greet you. “It’s about damn time.” He said, returning his attention to the smart board behind him.

You looked around the table for Natasha. She always saved a seat for you. But on her left sat Thor and Loki was on her right. The only empty seat was beside him. You curse him in your head as you walk around the table to take your seat. You wonder how he got Thor to switch from his usual seat beside Steve.

Fury starts talking again, calling on Tony to explain some new technology he was working on for all of you. You try to hide your yawn behind your hand. This stuff was always so boring. Why did you have to be here while they discussed how cool they thought this was?

You try to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, afraid you would fall asleep. A small vibration from your panties knocked the tiredness right out of you. It caught you off guard, but it was tolerable. You turn your head to look at Loki who is staring straight ahead, completely focused on Fury.

That little shit. You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, so you raised your hand asking a question and pretending you couldn’t feel yourself growing wetter. You sneak another glance at him, his prominent nose scrunching as he keeps his eyes forward. The vibration speeds up once, twice, three times. You ball your hands into fists, nails digging into your palm.

The device rolls in waves against you, brushing your clit. You bite your lip until you taste blood to keep from making a sound. It hums rhythmically, each pulse bringing you closer to orgasm. You can’t hear what Bruce says when he stands to pass out folders filled with the layout of Tony’s design.

He hands it to you, expecting you to take it from him. But you can’t, one hand is wrapped around the side of your chair, the other is clawing at Loki’s leg silently pleading with him to stop this madness. When you don’t reach for the folder, Bruce looks you over, taking in your frazzled appearance and the bead of sweat sliding down your neck. He mouths “You okay?” You nod a little too quickly and he sets the folder in front of you.

Loki opened your folder, bringing out the page Fury was discussing. His gaze lingers on your face for a second, and you think he’s finally satisfied and going to turn it off. The glimmer of mischief shines in his eyes as he returns his full attention to Fury. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not yell in frustration. Then you realize his momentary kindness was only to distract you.

The vibration hits its peak, and you lose control. Your fist slams on the table. All eyes are on you. “Do you have something you’d like to add?” Fury asks, assuming your interruption was about the stupid technology you had no idea about. The ripples flutter against your clit, your lower stomach clenching with the onset of orgasm.

“Yes!” You stand up surprising yourself and Loki who lifts a brow. You can’t think clearly so you hope walking will help. You pace the area behind Natasha, every lift of your leg moves your panties, causing the vibe to reach new angles. “I love this! I love it! I lo-ove it!” Your voice raises a few octaves. Tony smiles, excited someone is showing interest in his hard work besides Bruce and Fury.

“This is the kind of enthusiasm I expect from the rest of you.” He says pointing an accusing finger at the others. “What do you love about it?” He prompts you. You stop behind Loki’s chair, he turns to watch the show you were putting on. You clutch the top of his chair, as the vibration sends you over the edge.

“It’s the best! God, the best!” You look in Loki’s eyes as your legs tremble. “Oh fuck! It’s incredible!” Tony is beaming, hands coming together to clap. “Thank you! This is the kind of reaction I was wanting.” The vibration finally stops, as you wobble a few steps to your chair. Loki gives you his hand to help you sit down. You reluctantly take it, settling back in.

The meeting was finally over five minutes later. Everyone rushed to leave except for you and Loki. “Asshole.” You playfully slap his arm. He stands, gathering his phone and folder. “If you need assistance cleaning up that mess you made” He gestures to your legs, “I’d be happy to help.” He flashes that irresistible smile before leaving you to recover in the conference room.

Tags

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[writingfics-passingtime]

Desperate Measures

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Word count: 5703

Content / warnings: swearing, a lot of sexual tension, steamy kissing, suggestive humour, tickle fic, implied sex

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a romantic and intimate storyline between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

note: hello! I've come out of the woodwork to drop this random fic, thinking some of you may enjoy some wild sexual tension, teasing, and ruthless ler!loki I felt randomly compelled to write. I can't make any good-faith promises regarding future writing, so I'll just share this for now. All the love <3

The air in the gym was still and heavy, the only sound breaking the silence was the steady rhythm of your fists connecting with the punching bag. You were alone, intentionally so, using the late hour to work through a restless energy that had been gnawing at you for days.

Well, months, really.

There had been something about the Compound lately, something about him that made it hard to focus, hard to sleep.

The leather of the bag thudded under your punches, each strike sharp and measured as you practiced your form. But as effective as the session was at releasing some pent-up tension, you couldn’t ignore the nagging realisation that it wasn’t quite enough. And you didn't know what would be.

Then you heard him - felt him, really, before he spoke. Loki’s presence always announced itself in a subtle way. A shift in the air, a sense of something electric.

The low, velvety voice followed, as if materialising from the shadows. “This hardly seems like a fair fight.”

You froze for the briefest second, your fist still mid-air, before lowering your arm and turning to face him. There he stood, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed casually over his chest. He looked entirely too composed for someone who had just caught you off guard, but that was Loki’s way. His dark hair framed his sharp features, and his eyes sparkled with that familiar mischief. “Rather a waste of energy, fighting something that won’t hit back.” A pause, an assessment, a tilt of his head in challenge. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Your pulse quickens, though you’d never let it show. With Loki, you’d learned to keep your guard up. His constant presence, the lingering stares, the flirtatious banter - you still couldn't tell if it was all fun and games to him, or... if he actually...

“I’m practicing my form,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady despite the warmth that was starting to spread up your neck.

He smirked, tilting his head as he regarded you with a dark glint in his eye. “If it’s form you’re after, perhaps a real opponent would better suit your needs. I’d be happy to assist.” The words hung in the air between you, their weight heavy with invitation.

You hesitated, your heart suddenly pounding for an entirely different reason. Sparring with Loki? Not smart. The man - the god - was unpredictable, dangerous. You weren’t an idiot; in the field, you’d leave threats like Loki to the bigger guns like Steve, or Thor. But here, in the controlled environment of the gym, with no weapons and only the hum of underlying tension between you two, it felt different.

Risky in a way that had nothing to do with physical harm.

Still, you felt a thrill shoot through you at the thought. Something about his attention always made you feel alive, a little reckless.

You wiped the sweat from your brow and tilted your head. “Not sure this is a smart idea, Loki. I usually leave the big threats to the super soldiers and gods.”

His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “You’ll do just fine.” His tone was smooth, almost coaxing, as if you’d already agreed.

You rolled your eyes, turning toward the mats, feeling his presence at your back as he followed you. You were trying your best to seem unaffected, but his proximity set your skin alight.

Every step toward the sunken sparring area in the centre of the gym felt like a countdown. When you stepped down the couple of stairs onto the mats, you turned to face him, only to find him much closer than you expected. His height, the way he loomed just slightly, was intoxicating. He was so unfairly beautiful. And he knew it.

You gave him a look, a mix of challenge and uncertainty, trying to hide how affected you were. But Loki noticed everything. His eyes flicked briefly to your lips before settling back on your gaze.

“So what now?” you asked, your voice coming out a bit more breathless than you intended.

“Now,” Loki began, circling you slowly, his movements graceful, predatory, “we see what you’re truly made of.”

You squared your shoulders, keeping your stance neutral, trying to maintain your focus. But the energy between you felt charged, almost too much to ignore. Loki was testing you, as he always did - pushing buttons, seeing how far he could go before your unaffected facade slipped. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of showing how much he got under your skin. But, deep down, you knew that you weren't fooling him.

After one revolution around your body, he stopped in front of you, that smirk still playing on his lips. You didn’t wait for him to make the first move. You lunged forward, aiming a strike toward his midsection, but he dodged it easily, too fast, too graceful. He didn’t retaliate. Not yet. He was baiting you, letting you come to him. Typical.

Your next punch was aimed higher, toward his chest, but he caught your wrist mid-air. His grip was firm, but not painful, his skin cool against yours. He raised an eyebrow, almost amused.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he murmured.

You twisted out of his hold, stepping back to reassess. Your heart was racing, not just from the sparring, but from the feel of him, his hand, his eyes locked on yours like a predator toying with its prey. There was something dangerous in the way he moved, something inherently sensual in the way his body seemed to flow, effortless yet lethal.

You tried again, going low this time, aiming a sweeping kick toward his legs. He sidestepped, but not fast enough. You caught him just enough to throw him slightly off balance, and his smile widened. You could've sworn a gleam of admiration flickered in his eyes.

“Not bad,” he said, before moving on you.

Suddenly, he was in your pocket, faster than you anticipated, and before you could block, he had you pinned. One arm locked around your waist, pulling you flush against him, the other catching your wrist, holding it firmly above your head. He hooked one leg around yours and controlled the descent of your bodies. Your back hit the mats with a soft thud, him directly above you, and you gasped as the air was knocked from your lungs. Not fully from the impact, more from the overwhelming sensation of his body pressing against yours.

For a moment, everything stilled. You were trapped beneath him, and he was so close, his breath warm against your neck, his body hovering over yours, just a breath away from full contact. The weight of him, the way he held you so effortlessly, sent a rush of heat through you.

Loki’s eyes bored into yours, dark and intense, and there was no mistaking the shift in the air. The playfulness was still there, but underneath it was something deeper, something charged with heat and anticipation.

“Still think this was a bad idea?” His voice was a low purr, his lips dangerously close.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, his thumb brushing the inside of it in lazy circles, a deliberate tease. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumped beneath his touch, trying not to wonder if he could hear it. Feel it.

He lowered his brow, “You clearly haven’t been trained by anyone outside of Midgard.”

His words pricked at your pride, and you glared up at him, breathless, as you tried to wrench your wrist free. “Of course not,” you retorted, a bit sharper than you’d intended. “Not all of us have had the privilege of an intergalactic education.”

His expression softened for just a heartbeat, a glimmer of something that might've almost be concern, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a look of pragmatism. “That won’t do,” he said simply, releasing you, pulling you to your feet with an ease of strength that made your heart stutter.

“There are… larger threats than you’ve known. You need to understand how they fight.” His voice dropped to a low rumble. "Or you won't stand a chance."

You swallowed thickly, the implication heavy between you, and found yourself unable to look away, captivated by the intensity in his eyes, the subtle promise that lingered just beneath his calm disposition.

In his own strange way, he was offering to train you.

In that moment, it felt like the tension, the unspoken attraction that had been building between you over the months, was ready to snap. The rational part of you is screaming that this was dangerous, that whatever this was, it was a risk you shouldn’t take; putting yourself in the situation to be in constant close quarters with someone who already set you on a steep edge could only end in a heart-wrenching longing.

But as you met Loki’s gaze, defiance and something far more potent flared within you, and you couldn't deny the pull.

“Show me, then,” you whispered, your voice steady, even as your heart pounded furiously in your chest.

He smirked, a dark satisfaction flickering across his face as he stepped closer still. “Very well,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The gym was empty, as it usually was this time of night, save for the low hum of your breathing and the solid thud of your body against the mats, the result of another frustrating sparring session with Loki.

It had been weeks of this. A rhythm that’d somehow become normal, sparring sessions where you were pushed to your limits and left feeling exhausted but invigorated.

Loki’s method of training was relentless, unforgiving, and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The techniques he taught you - sharp, brutal movements, counters that defy human logic - had already sharpened your skills in ways you couldn’t have imagined.

He was maddening and insufferable, with his mocking commentary and easy confidence, but he had made you better.

You would flush to admit how much you looked forward to the few sessions each week. Because though you had trained with all kinds of opponents, none of them compared to the dark, infuriating figure currently pinning you to the ground.

He loomed above you, his body pressed just enough against yours to keep you in place, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin making the friction of his hold electric. You were breathless, chest rising and falling as you stared up at him, face inches from his as he flashed that knowing grin.

Unfortunately, this had become a very normal position to find yourself in. Loki never let you win, and never let you up without an admission of defeat, saying allowing such things would only breed complacence.

“Ready to surrender, darling?” His voice was dark silk, the smugness woven through every syllable. His eyes traveled over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks, your parted lips as you caught your breath. “Again? What are we, zero-and-thirty?”

The mix of arrogance and barely-contained amusement in his expression made your irritation bubble over.

"Go to hell."

"Charming," he replied, arching a brow. "By all means, keep on with your futile attempts to escape," he shrugged with indifference, further stoking your frustration. "I do so enjoy this part."

Your jaw ticked. You were tired, flustered, not any more used to his proximity even after weeks of this. You thought you'd be desensitised to his flirting, his touch... him, but, if anything, it was all pulling you closer to the edge of desperation.

And desperate times call for desperate measures.

At least, that's what you told yourself. In reality, you weren't thinking. You couldn't have been thinking, given that no one in your position would've considered such a foolish move.

In a final, desperate move, a slapdash attempt to get him off of you without having to surrender, your fingers darted to his sides, pressing into his ribs in a way that might, with any luck, give him a taste of his own teasing medicine.

But the instant your fingers touched him, and he merely flinched once, you knew you'd made a careless mistake, and a devastating one at that.

This was something you could never take back.

He stilled, a dark chuckle slipping from his lips. His gaze slowly shifted down to where your hands rested on his torso, and when he looked back up, the mischievous gleam in his eyes turned predatory.

“Oh?" His voice dropping to a dangerously low, delicious murmur, “You’ve just made an exceptionally poor choice.”

Your stomach dropped, and a tsunami of regret hitting you instantly. “Wait. Loki, I didn’t-”

“You want to play, hmm?” His smirk only widened as he leaned in, his grip tightening. “How delightful. Do carry on.”

“Please, I'm sorry,” you gasped, trying to push at his chest, already breathless. “I wasn't thinking- Loki, please!” You could feel your cheeks growing warm, laughter bubbling up as he held you firm. "I'm sorry!"

“Shh,” he crooned, his smirk deepening. “No need to waste your precious breath.”

"Oh no, please, not this," you laughed despite your wincing, pushing harder at his shoulders. It did nothing.

“Begging already?” His fingers found your sides, pinning them as his thumbs pressed firmly into the sensitive skin above your hips. “You might regret that even more, darling.”

Before you could protest, his fingers began to move, an unrelenting, devastating rhythm that sent a jolt of sensation through your body. Your attempts to fight it crumbled instantly as laughter spilled from your lips, your hands still trying, and failing, to push his away.

“Loki! N-no-” you gasped between giggles, squirming beneath him as his fingers worked with merciless precision. He watched you with keen fascination, clearly enjoying the effects of his touch on you far too much. His thumbs traced slow, calculated circles against your ribs, each movement skilled and targeted, attuning his touch at a terrifying speed. Learning how to deliver a masterful torture, designed just for you.

“Oh, I think yes,” he replied, his voice a teasing purr. “And to think, all it takes to make you crumble is a little tickling. How... adorably human.” His words were as wicked as his touch, his fingers finding every sensitive spot along your ribs, raking over your skin with a tormenting ease.

Your laughter only grew, helpless and unbidden, your body writhing beneath him as you tried to twist away from his relentless fingers. But the press of his body against yours, the heat of his breath, and the smirk on his lips were driving you to the edge in more ways than one.

“You know,” he continued, one hand slipping higher along your ribs, while the other skated down your side in search of a new vulnerable spot, “you really should have thought this through.” He watched as you struggled to speak, your protests dissolving into helpless laughter as pinched the soft spot above your hip in a steady rhythm. “But I suppose thinking things through isn’t exactly your strong suit, is it?”

Another fit of giggles burst from you, the words “Shut up- Loki, I swear-” managing to slip through the laughter before his searching hand found an especially sensitive spot just above your knee. Your leg jerked, and you could barely contain the yelp that escaped you.

“Oh, now that's a good spot, isn't it?” he mused, his smirk widening as he kept his fingers there, watching with satisfaction as you writhed in his grip. His thumb and middle finger cratered into your skin, moving in small, unrelenting circles against the muscle, each pass drawing a louder, more desperate laugh from you.

Every time your laughter began to steady, Loki would adjust, finding fresh angles to torment that same spot, leaving you gasping and breathless, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. The sound of his satisfied chuckle only made the entire ordeal more maddening, his smirk widening with every helpless laugh he drew from you.

The muscles of your core ached, already weakened from the near hour of sparring you'd endured before this ordeal, and your desperation mounted as you realised just how completely you were at his mercy.

“Poor thing,” he murmured, his voice mockingly sympathetic. “All those threats you make, all those fighting words... yet-"

The door to the gym opened suddenly, and two figures stepped inside. Loki didn’t miss a beat, glancing up to find Steve and Bucky standing there, their faces caught between surprise and amusement at the scene before them. Loki merely grinned, unperturbed, as though they were expected guests.

“Ah, gentlemen, so kind of you to join us.” His fingers didn't stop, not even for a moment. Your breath hitched between laughs. “She’s been begging for mercy. Tell me, don’t you train your people to withstand a bit of torture?”

“Steve!” you gasped, trying and failing to sit up as Loki’s fingers dug into your ribs with a terrifying precision. The hand at your knee gave a quick pulse and you shrieked, giving a violent kick of your leg that somehow dislodged his hand. “Bucky- help!”

The two men exchanged a look, an unmistakable smirk crossing their faces as they watched you squirm beneath Loki’s touch, now at both of your sides.

Steve folded his arms, tilting his head as if considering your plea. “Seems like you've bitten off more than you can chew,” he said, lips quirking up in amusement.

“You're gonna have to get yourself out of this one,” Bucky added with smirk.

"Please!" You squeaked when Loki wrapped his hands around your hips once more, squeezing and pressing as you plead through helpless giggles. "I-I'll do anything- just- j-just help me, please!"

“Anything?” Loki murmurs, his voice low and smooth as he leans down, stilling his hands just long enough for you to catch your breath. “My, my, this sounds like quite the liability. Is this all it takes to break you?” His fingers latched onto both of your knees with renewed vigour, eliciting a shriek and then a fresh burst of laughter.

You were too far gone to respond, tears gathering in your eyes as you twisted under his touch, utterly powerless to escape. His words, his steady, relentless taunts, were maddening, each one sinking in deeper as his fingers found every vulnerable place that left you laughing helplessly beneath him.

Your cheeks burned as you tried to wriggle away from his fingers, laughter turning desperate as his hands traced the sensitive muscles along your thighs. “L-Loki, please—”

Loki casted a glance at Steve and Bucky, his voice dropping to a lower, more mocking tone. “Her training is sorely lacking. She's reckless, susceptible…" he looked back down to you with a sly grin, "and seems to lack any sense of risk analysis. Taking me on, indeed.”

You were incredulous - as much as you could be in your position - and you tried to protest, tried to tell them that it was Loki’s idea to spar in the first place, but the words won’t come. Loki’s hands had you too helpless, laughter spilling from your lips as he smirked down at you with an expression of pure satisfaction.

Bucky shrugged, grinning as he watched your futile struggle. “Maybe we need to work on conditioning that out of her.”

“Oh, no,” Loki interjected smoothly, slipping his hands to the juncture of your hips and thighs, sending you arching off the mat, squeals of laughter tearing from your throat. "I rather like her this way."

Desperation drove you to try to reach for Steve or Bucky, your arm outstretched in a silent plea for mercy.

You should have learned your lesson about desperate moves.

Loki saw the opportunity in your attempt, and with a smooth, precise move, he twisted you onto your stomach, pinning your outstretched wrist to the mat as he settled over you, his other hand slipping to your lower ribs to press into a spot he'd already memorised, one that made you shriek.

“Really, darling,” he whispered darkly, his voice rich with satisfaction, “your judgment is appallingly poor, isn’t it?” His fingers glided higher, hitting a spot on your upper ribs that made your laughter turn silent, breath hitching as you struggled under him.

“You handed me this opening,” he tutted, his taunting words making you burn hotter. “What happens next is your fault.” His fingers found the sensitive spot beneath your arm, drawing out a fresh wave of laughter as your body arched, your feet scrabbling for traction as you slapped your free hand against the mat.

Hard laughter barrelled out of you, your head falling to the mat as you squeezed your eyes shut, succumbing to the sensations he was pulling from your nerves.

Surrender washed over you, cool and easy, as you felt your muscles go limp beneath him, nothing in your mind but the feeling of his body, his hands, the force of your laughter, and the pure, unadulterated fun he was having with you. And it was fun, you realised. In a way that people like you usually didn't indulge in.

Bucky tapped Steve on the arm and jerked his chin towards the door behind them. "Seem like you have this under control," he smirked at you. You looked up to glare but only caught their knowing glance, the one of friends and not of Avengers. The one that said, we know exactly what's going on here.

It made you flush almost as much as the unrelenting torture.

Almost as soon as they left you, Loki's tickling hand pulled away. You gulped greedy breaths in as he turned your sagging body with ease, settling you on your back as he hovered over you, eyes roaming the product of his work.

"I trust you've learned your lesson." His voice was a low rumble that sent heat pooling to your belly. All you could do was nod. "Next time you dare to pull a stunt like that," he started, leaning in so close you could feel his breath fanning your lips, "I won't be so gentle."

Heat bloomed over your cheeks, to the tips of your ears, the space between you charged, crackling with an intensity that sends a thrill through you.

You couldn't look away, your breath catching as his gaze lingered on your lips.

His own parted, as though he was on the verge of closing the distance...

He flinched.

Pulled back. Pulled away.

Your brow lowered in concern, but before you could ask what was wrong, he stood.

"Until next time."

He looked down at you, his eyes lingering with a promise that made your pulse pound, before he turned and strode out of the gym, leaving you sprawled on the mat, breathless, wanting, and hopelessly, maddeningly confused.

It was late that same night when you finally worked up the nerve to confront him.

You moved through the silent halls of the Compound, each step echoing in the darkened corridors as you slipped past the shadows pooling in doorways. Uncertainty crept up your spine, and you almost turned back more than once, only to grit your teeth and push forward. There were too many things left unsaid, too much tension thickening the air between you and Loki, and it gnawed at you now, refusing to let you retreat.

Before you could decide on a way to begin, his door opened. He stood there, almost as if he’d sensed you coming, his expression a mix of curiosity and that ever-present amusement.

“It's rather late for a visit,” he said, his tone low, his words quiet and full of question.

You met his gaze. “Couldn't sleep,” you replied, massaging the back of your neck with one hand.

His lips twitched with something darker, though his tone remained light. “And you thought I could help?”

Silence stretched between you, and for a moment, you wondered if this was a mistake.

"I thought you might be able to, considering it's your fault."

His face softened at the strain in your tone, and he stepped aside in a silent invitation for you to enter.

Swallowing hard, you stepped forward, pressing past him and into his room. He shut the door behind you, and the world seemed to fall away, the dimness settling around you, cocooning you both in a place of shadow and warmth.

"Go on then," Loki urged as you two stood near the lounge set in his room. A couple of armchairs and a matching couch, cast in the soft glow of several lamps and a dying fire in the hearth.

You drew a deep breath, forcing yourself to speak. “I know what you are, Loki,” you began, feeling your voice tremble with both fear and resolve. “Mischief is part of your very nature, and I don't mind fun and games like- like earlier," you flushed thinking about it, catching the smirk forming on his features as he watched you fumble.

You gathered your courage and stared him straight-on. "But not with my feelings. All this- this flirting, and touching, and closeness... it's not a game to me. So if it doesn't mean anything to you, I'd rather it stop."

Loki’s eyes narrowed slightly, the smugness vanishing, replaced by something harder, sharper. He let the words hang between you, a silence stretching before he repeated them in a voice almost too soft to hear. “If it doesn't mean anything to me,” he murmured, a subtle, dangerous edge to his tone. "You think this- that you are simply a game? Another amusement of no consequence?"

You swallowed, willing yourself to continue. “Today…” Your voice broke slightly, and you pushed the words out. “In the gym, we were so close. I thought...” Heat flooded your cheeks, but you forced yourself on, the confession slipping free. “For the dozenth time, I thought you were finally going to kiss me. But I just left wondering if I'm a fool with some silly schoolgirl crush, way in over my head." The admission left you raw and breathless, your heart pounding.

He exhaled, the smallest hint of a rueful smile ghosting over his lips. "You were trapped beneath me. Pinned, helpless,” he said, as though it explained everything. “I could never take that liberty with you while you were at my mercy.” His gaze grew darker still, something haunted flickering in his eyes. “I’d never forgive myself if I gave in to such an impulse. I'd never stop wondering if you had truly wanted it."

"But I did want-"

"And what if you hadn't?"

His words were a balm and a brand, his unwavering gaze rooting you to the spot.

"I had to know it was real. Not something forced or coerced, something... taken from you when you were too breathless to say no. I had to know for sure that it was what you desired."

For a moment, you struggled to find your voice, the weight of his reverence filling the space between you.

“It is,” you managed, each word trembling with the strength of your resolve. “I want this. I want you. I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. I don’t want to ignore it anymore.” You swallowed, breathless.

A beat passed, and something changed in his face - a tension releasing, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t expected.

Slowly, he extended his hand, his fingers unfurling in a silent invitation.

You slipped you palm into his, letting him pull you toward him, his touch both a promise and a tether.

He guided you closer, his hands sliding down your arms, tracing the lines of your shoulders, until they rested firmly on your waist. Then, with a gentle insistence, he drew you toward an armchair, lowering himself into it and coaxing you down to settle over his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs.

His hand rose, tilting your chin so that you were forced to look into his eyes. They held an intensity that bordered on unrelenting, darkened by desire and the hint of something raw, something that took your breath away. He watched you intently, his expression filled with something just shy of reverence. His thumb brushed along the curve of your jaw, tilting your face toward him as his fingers trailed along your neck, igniting every nerve.

You shivered as he leaned in, so close that his breath fanned across your lips. His touch was calm and certain, his gaze flicking over you as if committing every part of you to memory.

“I’ve waited for this,” he whispered, voice low and heated. “For you.”

The weight of his words pressed against the heavy silence between you, and before you could answer, he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow and consuming.

He guided you with a gentle but undeniable command, his mouth pressing deeper, each kiss drawn out, languid, until it felt like he was unraveling you with every deliberate stroke of his lips against yours.

The world blurred, and you melted into him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he lured a soft gasp from your lips. His hand slid to the back of your neck, steadying you, keeping you close as he took his time, tasting you, his lips teasing yours until you forgot to breathe.

When you moved to meet his kiss more eagerly, he slowed you, a faint smirk in the curve of his lips as he deepened the kiss with a patience that made your stomach twist. He was savouring this, savouring you, and the way he kissed you - deliberate, knowing - made your entire body ache with need.

His thumb brushed along your cheek, lingering as his other hand settled firmly at your waist, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t bear the thought of you slipping away.

Your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair as he angled your face, holding you exactly where he wanted. When his tongue brushed lightly over your lower lip, you let out a soft, involuntary sound, and his hand tightened against your waist, holding you to him.

Loki’s mouth moved over yours with a control that made you shiver, each kiss deliberate, and the quiet dominance in his touch sent warmth pooling through you. With every gentle press of his lips, every slow, teasing stroke, he seduced you, guided you, igniting something deep and undeniable that had simmered for too long. Your heart beat heavily against your ribs, and as you gasped softly, his mouth trailed along your jaw, his lips barely brushing over your skin.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze was dark, his expression full of barely-contained intensity.

A slight smirk tugged at his lips as he ran his thumb along your lower lip, the teasing glint returning to his gaze. “Well, look at you,” he soothed, voice rich with quiet amusement. “I half-expected you to come tearing through that door, seeking vengeance for how thoroughly I put you in your place earlier.”

Heat pooled in your face, and you fought to keep your composure, though it was a losing battle. “I’d have been fine if you hadn’t-”

“-handled you so effectively?” he interrupted with an infuriating grin, each syllable soft and mocking. “Don’t worry. I rather enjoyed it myself.”

His thumb still lingered on your flushed lips, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischief but something darker, something that felt like an invitation. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and heated, and the words sent a thrill down your spine.

The invitation hung between you, heavy and dark, the desire in his gaze nearly tangible. Your breath hitched, your heart racing at the thought of losing yourself completely in him, of surrendering to this quiet storm between you.

“That depends,” you managed, barely able to steady your voice. “Are you planning to repeat what happened earlier?”

He chuckled, his fingers tightening on your waist as his eyes glittered with amusement. “Only if you ask very, very nicely.”

A thrill shot through you as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours with a dark, velvet whisper. “That certainly won't be the last time we play like that. Tonight, however... I have other ideas for what to do with you." His fingers trailed up your spine, making you shiver.

Gods help you. He was going to be your undoing.

"I thought I'd take my time, learning you. Slowly. Thoroughly. Every little detail, every sweet noise you can make." His lips skated across the pulse point in your neck. "Would you like that, darling?"

"Yes." You had barely whispered your reply before his lips were on yours again, his mouth moving over yours with a slow, consuming fervour that left no room for questions, no room for anything except the feeling of him, his warmth, his presence, the gentle yet undeniable control in every touch. His fingers threaded through your hair, his hand steadying you as he deepened the kiss, guiding you with a restraint that made you shiver.

You melted into him, your breaths mingling as his hands drifted, his touch both firm and soft, and when he finally pulled back, his gaze held yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“This is not a game,” he whispered, a promise in his tone, his thumb tracing light patterns along your neck. His expression was sincere, edged with both longing and restraint. “You say the word, and we’ll stop.”

The words were a quiet echo, a reassurance that grounded you both. A chill of reverence passed between you, something thrilling, something impossibly tender. You met his gaze, nodding as your fingers traced the line of his jaw. “You too. No pressure, no expectations,” you whispered back, meaning it, and he smiled, a soft, endearing smile that made your heart ache.

And then he guided you back into his arms, every movement slow and deliberate as he kissed you once more, drawing you into a dance that would last until dawn.

[whirlybirbs]

              —   BEYOND THE VOID    !

                             AO3     |     SPOTIFY     |     PINTEREST

a masterpost for the series by yours truly. it's thursday again. second part to the from the void, with love series. canon divergent, set during loki season 2 (2023). 

READ ME !  / in-progress

1.    the beginning of the end 2. (COMING SOON !)

SCROLL ME !

1. part 1: from the void, with love 2. prologue: the sacred timeline 3.   the variant timeline files 4.   the tag 5.   the god & the scientist 6.   fan art

[five-miles-over]

Imagine waking up in an alternate reality where you and Loki are a newlywed couple living in the suburbs

This isn't my bed.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself nestled in pine green sheets of sateen. How did I even get here? As soon as you sat up, your eyes darted about the room.

Large and luxurious seemed to describe the queen-sized bed you were sitting in. The bedroom had off-white painted walls, a large ebony dresser with a mirror that perfectly captured your reflection, and a three-paned window offering a view of an idyllic suburban neighborhood.

From there, you could see a clean yard with rose bushes and yellow dandelions, all behind a white picket fence. There was a walkway, leading up to what could only be assumed to be the front door. And there was even a little mailbox with a green flag.

You blinked in disbelief at the sight, and decided to turn your attention to the rest of the bedroom. The next thing that caught your eye was the nightstand, which was ebony to match the dresser. Maybe it was part of a set.

On the nightstand was a set of silk ribbons, a wristwatch, and a framed photo. You picked up the frame and saw yourself in a wedding gown, smiling while being hugged by a tall man with dark curls that framed his long, pale face. His eyes crinkled at the corner as he grinned, looking at the camera as if this were the happiest moment of his life. The two of you seemed so perfect together, maybe even in love. The photo was in black and white, so you couldn't say much about the color of his eyes. However, it was obvious that he was wearing a black suit with a lily boutonniere. Classy.

"Morning, darling!"

You looked up to see the same man from the photo, except his curls were dripping and he wore a fluffy, black bathrobe. It didn't take long for you to notice his striking cheekbones, and the besotted look in his eyes that almost resembled the way he looked in the photo. But in all fairness, the camera did not do his beauty complete justice.

He came closer to you and gently planted his lips on yours. He tasted of mint, and his skin smelled like rain. You slowly reciprocated the kiss, putting your fingers on his cheek.

"Were you taking a trip down memory lane?" The man fondly asked, glancing at the photo. "I still can't believe that was only two months ago. Can you?"

You shook your head.

He hugged you from behind and kissed the top of your hair. "I'll finish getting dressed, and then meet you in the kitchen for breakfast."

You climbed out of bed, oblivious to a ring on your left hand. "Where...where are you going,...darling?" You swallowed.

"To work," he chuckles. "Can't be starting a Nexus Event at my own workplace." The man examines himself in the dresser's mirror. Then, he opens a drawer, retrieves a small pot of facial moisturizer, and dabs it on his forehead, rubbing it in circles. "You know the TVA, darling."

"The...Time Variance Authority," you mumbled, watching his reflection. "I should...I should go."

You hurried out of the bedroom, down a long hallway filled with pieces of generic artwork, and into a kitchen.

"What do you think of having pancakes this morning?" The man could be heard asking while you entered what seemed to be the kitchen kitchen.

As if the place were taken straight from the 1950s, everything - the oven, the fridge, the cabinets, and even the wallpaper - was completely pastel green, a shade of seafoam. Why is there so much green in this house?, you asked yourself.

Maybe it was because you watched too many sitcoms, or had seen too many vintage photos, but the first thing you did was put on an apron that had been laying around. And then, you opened the fridge, which was fully stocked with everything: a full carton of milk, a dozen eggs, various vegetables, some cuts of meat wrapped in butcher paper, and cheddar cheese.

Pancakes, you thought to yourself, taking the eggs and milk out of the fridge. Thankfully, there was an unopened box of pancake mix on one of the kitchen countertops. Yes it was strange, cooking breakfast for a man whose name you didn't even know, but he'd been so sweet to you. And maybe if you were on his good side, you could actually get some answers about who he was. "Hm..." A few moments later, while you were mixing the pancake batter in a large bowl, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. "I just can't get enough of you." The man's dulcet voice tickled your ears.

You laughed politely as he kissed your cheek. When you looked over your shoulder, you noticed he was wearing a white button-down shirt , a dark tie, and brown dress pants that showed off his perfectly-tight ass. For a moment, it made you blush. Apparently, the man noticed...and promptly winked in your direction.

As you heated the pan and greased it with butter, you could hear the man pouring himself a cup of coffee or tea, and then opening a newspaper.

"I'm cancelling drinks with Mobius tonight," the man casually said. "Coming straight home after work."

Not knowing at all who he could be referring to, you scooped the batter into the pan and watched it sizzle. "Why?"

He flipped a page of the newspaper. "Because he's making me watch another set of boring trading videos today. It's tedious, honestly." The man smiles when the scent of warm pancakes reaches his nose. "What I wouldn't give to be back on our honeymoon."

"Me too," you lied, placing the golden-brown pancakes onto a plate.

The man set the news paper aside and walked up to you, stroking your hair. "Maybe, tonight...we could even finish what we started on our honeymoon."

"Oh?" You found yourself smiling while you flipped two pancakes.

He whispered, "We could continue trying for a baby."

Don't burn the pancakes. Do NOT burn the pancakes. Blinking, you placed the two new ones with the rest of them on a plate, trying not to let your hand tense around the spatula. "A baby..." You put the plate of pancakes on the dining table, gently pushing aside the newspaper.

Next to the paper was a laminated id badge. It read, 'Time Variance Authority, Name: Loki Laufeyson, Role: Variant, ID: L1130'. You swallowed. struggling to look away from the badge as you tried to understand who the man really was. "Loki?"

"Those smell amazing, darling." Loki sat down and drizzled syrup on the pancakes. Then, procuring a bottle out of thin air, he sprayed a large peak of whipped cream on top.

You handed him a fork and knife, watching him begin to eat.

"Mm!" He moaned, closing his eyes for a moment. "This is delicious! Mm, I knew I married the right woman."

"Married?"

Loki chuckled before feeding you a forkful of pancake, syrup and whipped cream. "I love you more every day, Mrs. Laufeyson."

You gave him a gentle smile while chewing. "I...I love you more, Mr. Laufeyson." You made two pancakes for yourself, turned off the stove, and ate them while sitting across the table from Loki. How could it be possible that you were married to the God of Mischief, the younger prince of Asgard, the frost giant?

While eating, you glanced at your left hand, surprised by the sight of an elegant emerald ring with a gold band placed on your middle finger. But before you could ask Loki about any of this, the God of mischief put his now-empty plate in the sink. "I'd best be off now." He put his arm around your shoulder and pecked you on the lips. "Ah, parting is such sweet sorrow."

Loki walked towards the door with a brown jacket and a briefcase. "Wait! Loki!" You followed him out of the kitchen. "You forgot your badge."

Loki smiled, tapping the left side of his chest. "Pin it here, darling." He watched you with nothing but pure, unadulterated affection. "What would I do without you?" When you'd gotten the badge on his shirt, Loki gave you one last kiss. "No matter what happens," he softly said your name, "never doubt that I love you. I'll see you tonight, darling."

Taglist: @lokischambermaid @lokiismineforever @lokidbadguy @lokisgoodgirl @lokisprettygirl22 @smolvenger @holdmytesseract @wheredafandomat @wolfsmom1 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbsblr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life @huntress-artemiss @itsdoni @gruftiela @ellooo0ooo @ireallyneedtherapy @jennyggggrrr @anukulee @turniptitaness

[sp25]

the calm before the storm

pairing: Loki x f!reader

summary: you support Loki when he needs you the most

warnings: 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy or use ai on my shit, i'll find out. consists of fingering, oral sex by male on female, just more honestly fluff. This is less dark than the others. So yup. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

a/n: I just want to say, I hope this post does better than the last one. Last one got none. I just want advice honestly how to get my stories recognised. This one is inspired by a character ai convo, the character is “Loki” by @ivveee. Please go and support the artist.

You were servant for the royal family of Asgard. You had spent your entire childhood in the palace. Even if you were a servant for the palace, it felt like home to you.

But, there was one person who became your home. Loki. Yup, the god of mischief. He treated you as equal and never looked down at you. You were his servant. Loki took you everywhere with him. You were literally only his.

When Thor was sent to Midgard, Loki took you to Midgard with him so you could assist him.

After lying to Thor and failing to lift Mjolnir, he left and went to a small motel in New Mexico, unable to bear everything. He was disappointed in his own self. He was quiet as you both entered the motel room. You knew better than to disturb the god.

While, you were in the washroom tiding yourself, Loki let out a frustrated yell. You immediately rushed out and saw the scene in front of you. Loki was looking out the windows with his fist clenched.

He was trying to get rid of his angry and frustration but no avail. He was throwing things around the motel room. He looked down at a glass and threw it. It hit a wall and shattered. The sound made him more angry. He picked up a chair and threw it. It hit a wall and also shattered. He was destroying everything in the room.

You knew you had to stop him before he took any drastic action. You slowly walked over to him, carefully so he won’t get more angry. He heard your footsteps.

He stopped and noticed you. He was still angry and furious. He looked into your eyes. He didn’t do anything at first. His eyes were still on fire with anger. He wanted to lash out. Then all of a sudden he stopped. His anger evaporated as he looked at your face. He was transfixed by it. It was as if he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. All the anger and frustration seemed to fade as he looked into your eyes.

“Loki?” You softly said as you looked at him so worried and concerned for him. You could see his external wall slowly crumbling down.

He kept staring at you blankly but with tears in his eyes. He couldn’t express himself, he looked at the ground in frustration. You softly went over to him and got closer.

“hey..hey it’s okay” You softly touched his cheek making him look at you. At first he flinched, not expecting your touch but slowly he melted into your touch.

He looked at you and your gentle touch. His anger melted away. His face turned soft and gentle. A look of peace crossed his face. He put his hands around you in a soft embrace. His eyes were tender and warm as he looked into you. It seemed like all his pain and suffering had washed away. He felt safe and protected by you.

“It’s alright. It’s okay. I’m here now. You are safe.” You kept whispering comforting words to him. You just wanted him to feel safe.

He held you close to him. He took deep breaths. His hand ran through your hair. He looked into your eyes and his voice was soft. He felt relieved and comforted. His anger had vanished. His heart was calm. He wanted to stay close to you. He wanted to feel you inside and out. He wanted to feel safe. His body relaxed. He didn't want to let go.

You could feel how delicately his hands wrapped around you waist and squeezed it. He needed you. He needed to make you his. He has forgotten all his worries. His only mission now was you.

Loki looked at you. He was still holding you. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them. His voice was sultry and seductive.

*He pulls you towards him. His hands wrap around your waist. He gets close to you. Your breath turns shallow and rapid. Your body grows warm. You feel his power. He pulls you closer. Your heads touch. Your hands meet. Your lips touch. Your bodies press against each other. The power flows through you. You feel his strength. He fills you with desire. You want him. Your body responds. You moan softly as you could feel his cold lips softly press on your warm ones.

His hands easily went under your dress, touching you curves with ease. You could feel him cup one of your breasts softly as he whispers possessively “mine..”

He starts kissing your neck, biting softly making you moan and whimper for his touch. He lifts up your dress and kisses your breasts softly.

“tell me that you are mine.” He orders whispering. You knew he needed this. “I’m all yours.” You whisper breathlessly cause how warm your body felt for him.

He laid you down on the small bed as he then start kissing down your hips. He smirked as he saw your lacy lingerie for him. He was more proud seeing how wet it was for him.

He pulled the lingerie down and was immediately mesmerised by the view in front of him. Your pussy was dripping in wetness for him. He took his index fingers and moved it over your pussy making you whimper softly.

“Loki..” you begged so miserably. “It’s okay.. I will take good care of you love.” He responds as you feel his tongue in your clit. You could feel how he softly sucked on it before pushing his index fingers slowly in your wet cunt.

He groaned softly feeling how tightly your cunt wrapped his finger. He started moving his finger with ease before putting another in. You could feel his fingers curl each time it entered you. It hit the right spot as his tongue lapped at your clit.

You were at Loki’s mercy. All you could do was moan his name. “Oh god..” you moaned as he put another finger inside, he tutted you and said “I’m your god love, always and forever.”

You could feel his fingers pace up fast. You were desperate for a release now. He started roughly rubbing his thumb on your clit that you were sure it would be swollen now. His fingers thrusted into your hard. Loki moved up as his fingers continued his assault and kisses you aggressively yet passionately.

You could feel the wetness in his lips. “cum for me love, cum.” His words were an order for you. You felt yourself cum so hard on his fingers but the fingers didn’t stop. His fingers slowly helped you ride out the high.

He slowly removed his fingers and looked at them. They were dripping in your wetness as you looked at him blissfully. He sucked on his fingers and groaned softly. “so fucking sweet for me..”

You could see the bulge in his pants, you wanted to help him down. You got on your knees for him but he stopped you saying. “No my love, this night is for you.”

“And now,” He softly pulled out his throbbing cock for you and his voice turns dark and sensual as he leans in closer.

"Let me fill that hole in you, y/n." He lets out a soft chuckle. "A hole only I fit into.”

—————————————————————————-

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed it. I wrote this one faster compared to the others. So just comment or tell me how it was. DM’s always open. So yeah. If you guys liked it, tell me I will write a part two.

[the-swift-escape]

A Fine Team

Part 1 of (N/A)

Summary: The reader and Loki are sent on a mission at an art gallery, their objective is to pose as husband and wife to gain entry into a hydra auction. The reader has been falling for their friend for some time now and doesn’t think that he could ever feel the same.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Author’s Note: I’m thinking of making this a multi-part fanfic, not sure how long but I have a few ideas for the plot. I’ve never written any fan fictions like this before and I’m mostly trying to get back into the groove of writing again.

Word Count: 3,422

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The art gallery is filled with a warm glow of light. The walls are paneled with a dark wood and the floor is a shining marble that echoes with each step of heeled feet. There’s low classical music playing but no one is dancing. The guests are either too occupied by the exhibition or conversation with their peers. If you didn’t know better you wouldn’t even suspect anything abnormal about this event. Just a bunch of old money socialites viewing art they’re hoping to bid for in the auction later tonight.

Unfortunately for you, this is a mission, not a social event. Loki is not your date, holding you close against him as you view a landscape piece. He’s not whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He’s observing the people around you, and he’s playing a part. He is your mission partner, not a lovesick newlywed. He is your friend, nothing more. When you think about the press of his hand against your lower back and his lips close to your ear, your heart clenches. It feels like the most exhilarating torture for him to be so close yet so far. He has no idea how hard it is to suppress the blush rising to your cheeks and you want to keep it that way so instead you watch an older man in a dark red suit jacket look at his watch.

“There he is, it’s almost time for the auction. Don’t lose sights,” you whisper, pulling your lips into a smile as you turn toward Loki.

“He couldn’t be more obvious if he tried,” Loki says while pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and your breath hitches and you pray he doesn’t notice.

“You guys are disgusting, I can’t believe I have to watch this,” Tony’s voice comes through your ear pieces.

Loki rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Would you rather me hold a knife to her throat, Stark? Would that be more in character?”

“For you? Absolutely,” Tony says pointedly.

You clear your throat.

“If you two are done having your dick measuring contest, the target’s moving,” You whisper harshly.

The man in the red suit goes to the back of the gallery and flashes his watch to a young bouncer. He looks at him with an over polite smile. He’s nervous, this must be the new kid that Hydra set to work this event. Fury was right, they didn’t see the avengers as a threat. To be fair, the intel was fresh and the event was just arranged a few days ago. They just hadn’t checked the museum staff for any spies yet.

Nat looks at you subtly from the bar as she abandons her spot behind the counter and heads toward the back room. Her hair is dyed a dark black and is swept into a braid. She has a completely different face, courtesy of stark industries, but she moves with the same practiced ease of Natasha. She touches the bouncer’s arm and lean towards him. His eyes go wide and he hastily steps aside and follows her past the velvet rope. When they turn the corner you hear a door close through her mic and then you hear a few grunts and you swear you hear a sharp cracking sound.

“You’re all good, auction is about to start,” Nat says her tone calm.

“You’re brillant, Nat,” You shake your head in awe and hold onto Loki’s arm.

His suit is a dark green. The material cool to touch and fitting across his arms. His dark hair is swept back into an elegant loose bun. His face is at ease and you feel your heart stutter as his green eyes sparkle with the chandelier light overhead. You’re wearing a long gown the same color as his suit, the neckline is revealing but not too revealing to warrant any unnecessary glances. The thin straps on your shoulders are beaded with gold and the details on your bodice are dripped in gold, to match his cufflinks. He insisted on your outfits matching perfectly. ‘To sell the illusion’, he said.

“You look lovely, my dear wife,” He says as you pass a small group of lower hydra operatives.

“I’d hope so, I picked it out just for you. Now that we’re married it doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to impress you,” You laugh airily as the two of you approach the now clear hallway.

You make a show of batting your eyes at the man beside you as a few of the operatives turn to look at the two of you. Loki wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close, giving you a featherlight kiss on your forehead. When you turn the corner down a darker hall you both stop and press your backs against the wall, waiting to hear footsteps. None follow and you relax against the wall and look over to see Loki looking at you with a wolfish grin.

“You play this part beautifully, darling.”

You roll your eyes at him, trying to hide the start of a smile on your lips.

“You can turn it down a notch, Loki, all these rooms are sound proof according to the blueprints we got from Fury. No one is here to hear your flirting-“

“Except for us, Reindeer Games, you’re making me sick over here,” Tony complains and you can’t help but laugh.

“Careful, Loki, y/n may have to kick your ass if you get too frisky. This is a mission after all, what would Fury say?”

Nat’s smirk is evident in her words. You wish you could stop the hope from rising in your chest when Loki doesn’t seem too interested in defending himself. But then it’s crushed just as fast and you see his smile drop and he raises one eyebrow.

“I’m not flirting, I’m staying in character. There’s a difference. I suppose that’s why I was chosen for this mission over you, Stark. I’m simply more professional.”

“Yeah that’s the reason, definitely not the fact that I’m an extremely famous billionaire, philanthropist and the owner of one of the tallest buildings in New York. Which just so happens to have my name on it. But you’re right, Rock of Ages-“

You hear a door open down the hall.

“Will you two shut up,” you hiss.

You look at your diamond encrusted watch. They must have just got done appraising the piece you’re here for. You see a supply closet out of the corner of your eye and grab Loki’s wrist and pull him silently into it, turning your ear piece on mute. The room is cramped, the space taken up by cleaning products and a rack of boxes and towels. You can’t help but press Loki against the door as you hold your hand over his mouth. Your heart is racing. It sounds like there’s about five men in the hall. Stopped right in front of the closet door. In the small glimpse of light peaking through the door from the hallway you see Loki’s eyes shut tightly, his eyebrows furrowed.

You listen in on their conversation but it’s mostly small talk. All they say that rouses any suspicion is that they’re meeting at a hotel a few months from now. As their steps echo down the hall they say their goodbyes. Hail Hydra.

You let your head fall against Loki’s chest and take your hand from his mouth. He reaches up to his ear as he breathes heavily.

“Darling, if you wanted to get me alone, I could’ve arranged that much earlier.”

His voice is as smooth as silk, if a little breathless. You try to chuckle but you feel like floating. Your skin pricks as you look up and realize how close the two of you are.

“If I wanted you alone, Laufeyson, it would have already happened,” You counter, trying to slip into your usual banter.

It’s harder when it’s like this. When it’s so close to the truth but it just isn’t. You want him, but you know there’s no way he’d have you.

Loki opens his mouth to reply, smirking, but he stops short. You’re close enough to hear the muffled noise from his ear piece and Loki clears his throat when you pull away to turn the volume up. You nod at him and he opens the door to the closet.

“Hello? Am I just talking to myself here?”

“No, Tony, sorry. Had to focus, heading to the auction room now,” You respond.

Loki offers his arm and you take it, avoiding his eyes in hopes of just appearing focused. The two of you reach the auction room and slip in unnoticed. You find the place marker with your aliases and your paddle number and take your seat in the back.

The auctioneer hasn’t gotten to your item yet but you pretend to be interested and whisper to each other when it’s time for Loki to put his paddle up. You bid low enough to lose but high enough to where you drive the price up on some of the smaller items. An hour or so passes with you and Loki waiting to see the painting you came here for. Every time he raised the paddle he’d steal a glance at you, pleased with how frustrated some of the older attendees sounded when they had to place a higher bid.

You couldn’t help but marvel at how far he’s come since the battle of New York. You were one of the only people that was able to connect the fact that Loki’s eyes were the same color as Clint’s when he was being mind controlled. Before Loki ever joined you’d brought it up multiple times but no one ever really took it seriously. After he arrived at the tower, and he opened up more, in his own ways he confirmed that your theory was correct. He hasn’t told anyone what happened that lead him to that point, though. Luckily, he’s adjusted pretty well and if some of the avengers still don’t like them- they have a begrudging respect for him. Loki and Bucky bonded and formed an interesting friendship, with what Loki has told you it seems that they’ve helped each other readjust to freedom in a way. Wanda has also helped Loki open up more, they tend to spend some time every few weeks training with their magic. Clint still keeps his distance but that’s not a scar that’s going to heal quickly, you don’t think.

Loki tears you from your thoughts, tapping the inside of your right wrist. He’s staring straight at the painting you’re here for. It’s a 1940s battlefield landscape. But you’re not here because of the art itself, you’re here for what’s sewn into the canvas. You know that Tony is listening in as the auctioneer announces the piece.

“Showtime, newly weds,” Tony comments.

According to Fury’s intel there’s a note with coordinates to a hidden hydra base that has been thought to be inactive since just after the war. There’s been whispers of a resurgence of the winter soldier program in a top secret location. This might be the key to finding the headquarters.

Loki waits for a few people to bid before placing his first one in. If you can get your hands on this painting it could completely destroy the last of the winter soldier program, if you don’t win then this mission will be a hell of a lot more difficult. He puts his paddle up again and rests his hand on your thigh, his fingers dipping just inside of the dress’ side slit. He keeps his face straight and you assume someone’s looking but you can’t take your eyes off his hand. Your breath is shallow but you try to focus, giving his hand a pat when you think he should bid.

The general protocol is that the highest bidders are given directions to a safe house where they can make the exchange. Hydra transports the item there in heavily guarded vehicles. Which the team will be tracking via the Quinjet. You feel your knives strapped to your thigh, all night you’ve been itching for a fight. Maybe it’s the pent up frustration from your ruse or just the fact that you’ve been surrounded by hydra agents all night. It feels like torture to blend in with them but it’s honestly not even close to being one of the most difficult missions you’ve gone on. It’s tame in comparison to most, little combat and little interaction with the enemy. The hardest part is keeping your heart in check when Loki’s touching you like that. You’re starting to realize how incredibly distracting it can be.

“Sold to number twenty-five!”

The auctioneer announces the winner and you realize it’s not you.

“Shit.”

“What’s up, (y/n)? Did you get it or not?” Tony pries.

“They cut the bidding short. Two men came in and delivered a note to the auctioneer,” Loki explains.

You didn’t even notice. How did that happen?

“It must’ve been rigged, get out of there, we’ll see you at the jet.”

You slip your hand into Loki’s, the cold of his fake wedding band nipping at your skin.

“Let’s go, honey. I have a little surprise for you back at home,” You tease seductively.

His green eyes cut to yours, you swear that for a moment there’s a flash of something there. You just can’t quite put a name to it. Loki’s tongue brushes over his lower lip, bringing your hand up. He leaves a lingering kiss on your matching ring. The look in his eye paired with the graze of his mouth on your skin sends a strike of electricity through your veins. He gets up, leading you to the door.

“Shall we?” He makes a show of letting you exit first after you exchange the customary hail hydras with the organizer and his bodyguards.

When you get into the hall the two of you pick up your pace.

“Now, what?” You hiss at Loki.

He grins mischievously.

“Now, darling, we have some fun.”

You can tell he’s thinking what you’ve been feeling, this has been too easy. Now, at least, it’s getting interesting. You really wish you had a body suit under this dress but maybe if you’re lucky you’ll be able to make it to the jet before you have to do any real damage. You get instruction from Tony to take a few turns down the hall to a back exit that leads to an alley closer to the meeting point.

The night air is breezy and goosebumps form on your arms. The stars are bright and the moon is little more than a sliver. Your heels echo softly on the pavement as you walk. Loki is close enough to where your hands brush once in a while as you walk. Each time it happens you feel yourself being pulled further into his orbit. There’s something magnetic about Loki, and most might say it’s because he’s a god or because he’s like a predator. Coaxing his prey into a false security, but you don’t see him that way. You see a man, a god, that has been through awful things. Like anyone else, he has struggled. He is hard to crack but when you’re able to see what’s underneath the calculating front he puts up, he’s not that different from the rest of the team.

“You did good in there, Laufeyson, I think you’re getting the hang of this whole avenger thing,” you bump his shoulder with yours, “who knows, maybe you’ve found your glorious purpose.”

He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.

“I don’t think that the other avengers share that sentiment.”

Your chest pangs, because it’s true.

Then his face hardens, glancing back the way you came. You hear some low voices cutting through the night and before you can react, Loki is grabbing you by the waist. He’s spinning you around and the world is tilting on its axis. You close your eyes thinking something bad is about to happen.

Your back hits the wall and one of his hands is on your waist, the other supporting your head, guiding it to back gently. When you open your eyes he’s looking at you and he silently shushes you. Loki leans in close to you and his nose is brushing yours and his gaze drops to your lips. Your heart is pounding in your chest and your skin is tingling. He’s so close and his breath smells like whiskey. His cologne is coating the air between you and it smells like the forest and it’s warm and welcoming and it’s so hard to pretend like you’re not in love with him when he’s so close.

“You look truly divine,” He breathes.

“You don’t mean that,” You whisper back, shaking your head.

The footsteps are getting closer and closer and you screw your eyes shut. You have no idea what to do now that you’ve lost contact with the others and you can’t think straight. Loki always leaves your mind cloudy and usually it doesn’t effect your mission but you’ve never been in such a compromising position. He’s intoxicating and it takes all your willpower not to lean into him further. Not to press your lips to his or wrap your arms around his neck.

“Yes,” he leans a fraction closer, “I do.”

Then he’s pressing you further into the bricks and his fingers are brushing against your cheekbone. You open your eyes and he looks at you and his pupils are blown wide. Then he kisses you and it’s so soft. He’s kissing you like you’re going to disappear, like you’re made of glass. It’s fragile and you can tell he’s braced for rejection and even though you’re terrified that this is all for the mission somehow you melt into the kiss. A low noise is pulled from him as you slide your hands through his hair, it falls from its slicked back bun and the strands are falling against your cheek. The moment is everything you’ve ever dreamed it would be and still it’s so much better.

The whole world is slipping away and you ears are buzzing and you realize you need to breathe. You pull back, leaning your head back toward the cool night air and then his lips are on your neck and you feel weightless.

“Believe me, (y/n),” he whispers against your skin, his breath cool, “I could never lie to you.”

The sound of your name makes you whimper as his lips move further and further down. The footsteps are long gone, you realize. You should go, both of you should go meet the others at the rendezvous point. But you can’t move, it’s like you’re stuck to the spot and all you can focus on is this, this mischievous god against you and how his hands are chilling your skin and setting it on fire all at once. The way his tie has come slightly loose and how his cheeks are reddened. He’s disheveled and you never thought it would be for you, because of you.

“Loki-“ You choke out.

“(Y/n), come in. Can you hear us? Where are you, agent?” Steve’s voice breaks through the static in your ear piece.

Loki pulls back abruptly, the voice of your captain breaking through the moment. His eyes are wide as he looks at you and your heart sinks. He regrets it. You just lost your best friend. You sober up quickly and slip from Loki’s grasp and maneuver around him, looking down the alleyway.

“I hear you, Cap. We’re not too far from the museum, had to take a detour. On our way now.”

“We got eyes on the truck, good work you two, you make a fine team.”

You look at Loki for a second. You can’t read his expression as he straightens his tie and fixes his hair. He wipes his lips, erasing all the evidence of what happened just like that. As if it never happened, couldn’t happen. Not with you, at least. You sigh.

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

In silence you head to the rendezvous point. The tension thick between you. Maybe all he’ll ever be is your partner. Maybe you were naive to think that it could seriously be more. It was just the heat of the moment and it should have never gotten that far. Maybe you could learn to live with that.

[ace-of-gay]

home to the mind

Loki x reader

Warnings: physical contact/ cudding... cuddly loki

1,121 words

No pronouns or skintone used or implied

Welcome to all body types

Edited to the best of my ability

you are responsible for your own media consumption

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

It was one of the longest training days you had endured, all you had wanted to do by the end of it was relax in silence by yourself, you had too much human interaction so when faced with the opportunity you had decided it was the perfect chance to head to the only room you knew for sure would be silent and lack the need for interaction.

That was until you got there, you were unaware of the other person within the room, they however were aware of you the second you opened the door.

You had picked out your book and went to sit down, losing all connection to reality you never noticed the tall lanky figure lurking through the shadows.

Loki had seen you around plenty, he saw through the way you presented yourself, he could read every person like an open book but you however were much different, no matter how much you shared, it was never truly impactful information it was always small trivial things that would have no one knowing you as more than any passersby does, you kept to yourself when it came to your personal life so to find you partaking in an activity by yourself wasn’t the biggest surprise, in fact it meant you had something in common, possibly something to bond over.

Walking down the aisle, he’d spent so long having read almost every book in the library and to his knowledge the one you picked was one he’d recently read himself.

Weighing his options he decides to approach.

Long quiet steps he clears his throat to catch your attention, “how is it so far?” You could barely hear him but it was clear enough to understand, looking over your shoulder a smile present on you face.

“Its wonderful, I remember reading it back in high school any chance I could get”.

“So you know it well I presume?”.

You chuckle to yourself, “I know it very well, cover to cover basically”.

Going on about favorites from both yours and his childhoods, what characters you relate most to and much more it had gotten late, you however made a note to yourself to come to the library more often.

From that day forward you would meet in the library every Wednesday and after missions, winding down after long stressful days, sometimes reading and others just talking and getting to know each other, often just sitting in silence with the others company.

Occasionally reading the same book to take turns reading aloud to one another.

Both of you looked forward to meeting, finding peace and comfort in your hangouts, he had planned to ask if you wanted to hang out outside of Wednesdays in the library, without implications of it being a date or not, it was up to you, that was until he got to the library, searching all around and to not find you anywhere.

You hadn’t missed a Wednesday since you started, it worried him, so much so that he took a walk to your room to check up on you just to find you sick and in bed.

He took It upon himself to bring you back to full health, he brought you your favorite comfort food, ginger ale and a book along with a DVD copy of one of the movies you had talked about wanting to see.

You had invited him to stay as long as he was certain he wouldn’t catch your illness as he had mentioned it being basically impossible.

While miserable in the aspect of you being ill it was also the most fun you’d had in quiet a while, telling stories, eating your favorite food, and watching the movie, he didn’t expect it to happen but when you slumped over into his side he had finally realized how late it was, his cheeks tinting pink, it made him joyful that you were comfortable enough to fall asleep in his presence your arms wrapped around his slender frame nuzzling your cheek into his chest, it made him happy in a way he’s never felt, like your positivity and joy had spread from you to him in just a moment.

From then forward he’d invite you to watch movies, go out into town or even spend evenings star gazing, it wasn’t just about memories and books anymore, its about being close to you, savoring his time with you.

Each time he’d get as close as possible and let you fill the magnetic gap, he was sure he had been as inconspicuous with it as possible but you read him like your favorite book, it was obvious.

One particular night you had invited him to your room for movies and ‘silly Midgardian snacks’ as he called them.

You both huddled in close, the lights set low to make the movie feel more encapsulating, but his focus wasn’t on the film, it was the feeling of you held close next to him, the sound the hum in your breath when you were intrigued, the jump in your position when something intrigued you and how the light cast upon your features, you were completely aware of it.

He was so comfortable he didn't even realize he was falling asleep, curling into you his grip tight as ever, never something you would expect from him, his body wrapping itself around yours like you were a source of heat, his head resting upon your stomach he looked so at peace, no one had ever seen him like this but you, no one understood why you would hang out with someone like him but you didn’t care, he felt like home the way you felt the same to him.

You hand found its way to his silken hair cast around his face, gently brushing it back to see him, it startled him awake, he radiated shame and fear, frustration at himself for getting so close, surely it was obvious now.

“If you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so, you didn’t have to hide it”

Standing up to leave, a simple “I’m sorry” trailing his fearful glances.

Shaking your head you follow Standing up, your arms held out for him, “its okay Loki, I’m not upset whatsoever, I enjoy being close with you, it feels warming and comfortable, if you desire cuddles that’s all you have to say.”

And so with your words seeping, your mental walls open and he knows for certain you mean it completely, with that knowledge beaing only a slight hesitation he walks into your arms, wrapped tight in your hug he reciprocates the action while burying his face into your shoulder, this is the Loki you only you knew and it made you love him so much more.

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Sorry it took me so long to get this posted ive had writers block and now im quite literally sick

Tags:

@theaudacitytowrite thank you for the inspiration to write a cuddly loki fic

@vbecker10 cause im convinced you'd enjoy this as much as i did writing it

[wheredafandomat]

Breathe deeper

Loki x female reader

18+ | contains smut, breath play? I don’t know

Whilst Loki was at work, he received a message from you saying how much you couldn’t wait for him to return. The message seemed innocent enough so he opened it only to be left gasping when he saw the picture attached to it. He cleared his throat, lowering the brightness of his phone as he stared intently at the mirror selfie of you standing in lingerie, the set that he bought you, whilst tugging the waistband of the panties down. His mind ran ravenous imagining if the picture was a video. Would you have pulled them all the way down? Would you still be wearing the set when he returned home? Was he really hard at work, thinking about you? Shit. Loki grabbed his bag, holding it over his lap as he locked his phone.

Once Loki returned home, you smiled at him, telling him about the dinner you had made but he wasn’t bothered about that, there was something else on his mind. He sauntered in, setting his bag down before he made his way to you, barely even kissing you before he threw you over his shoulder and headed towards the bedroom. You laughed, Loki slapping your ass as you writhed in his grip. Once you reached the bedroom, he laid you against the bed, finally kissing you as you reached between you both, undoing his tie. You were in a silk robe, one that Loki prized apart as his lips travelled across your neck. You could feel how hard he was already meaning that right now, this wasn’t going to be a slow intimate love making session, this was going to be a quick fuck so you bit your lip, stifling your wide smile.

Loki was still fully dressed in his shirt and dress pants as he freed his erection, sliding between your legs and lining himself up with your entrance. You moaned, nails scratching the material covering his back as he thrusted into you, filling you deeply before pulling out and doing it all again. The headboard crashed against the wall signalling to the neighbours what was going on as if your loud moans weren’t enough. Loki grit his teeth, slamming into you as your eyes closed tightly, his name falling from your lips like a chant. You were already so close and you could tell by Lokis desperate thrusts that he was too. Before long, Loki came with a growl, your own orgasm washing over you before your tense body relaxed against the bed, Lokis lips finding yours.

You both made out for a while, occasionally breaking the kiss to talk about one another’s day. As you spoke, Loki undressed, pressing his naked body against your own. The more you kissed and touched one another, the more eager you both became for a repeat of earlier on. Judging by the way Loki kept wrapping his arms around you and kissing your body, you knew that he wanted this next round to be cherished, amatory. You did to.

Pushing you onto your back, Loki broke the kiss before trailing his lips lower. His hands massaged your breasts before he toyed with your nipples, occasionally taking one into his mouth. You could feel a new wetness pooling between your legs as he moved lower, planting kisses across your stomach. He kissed your thighs, opening your legs as he lowered his head towards your heat. You waited in anticipation for his next move, wondering when his lips would travel from your thighs to your needy cunt. He grew closer and closer before your body tensed feeling him plant a firm kiss on your clit.

“Loki.” You moaned as he kissed you there again, and again before flattening his tongue against you and licking up from your entrance back to your clit before stopping and glancing up at you. “Loki?” You questioned, opening your eyes.

“I want to try something new okay.” He spoke sultrily. You nodded in response. “Empty your lungs.”

“What?” You snorted in reply. It was slightly awkward having a man between your legs so close to your cunt telling you to empty your lungs.

“Exhale.” He prompted so you did. “Right, now take a deep breath.” He instructed before you did it. “Good” he praised “now exhale.” You exhaled, Loki telling you to do it again once you were done so you did. “Now hold it.” You held your breath for a few moments before Loki told you to exhale. “Great, now keep doing that, breathe deeply and relax.” You followed instructions, moaning again once Loki resumed his actions, circling your clit with his tongue. Your body tensed, his lips wrapping around your bundle of nerves before he stopped, replacing his tongue with his finger as he looked up at you, finger moving over your clit agonisingly slowly. “Deep breaths y/n, relax for me okay.” He prompted, you nodding in response. “Good girl” he murmured, his finger trailing down towards your entrance before he pushed inside “keep breathing y/n.” He mumbled, his finger thrusting in and out of you as you released breathy moans, Lokis mouth eventually returning to your centre.

Your hips rose from the bed, Loki entering you with his finger whilst continuing to suck your clit. The pleasure was immense, Loki occasionally telling you to breathe sending vibrations through your core. You knew you were close, he knew you were close, your walls throbbing against his finger. Your legs began to shake, the pleasure eventually consuming you as you inhaled, cumming during the exhale. Loki lapped up your arousal, smiling widely as you convulsed against the bed.

“Fuuckk.” You moaned, riding out your high.

Once the moment passed, Lokis mouth left you, pulling his finger out before licking it clean and kissing his way back up your body. He finally reached your lips, kissing you gently, tasting like you.

“Now, wasn’t that much better?” He asked coyly, you smiling lazily in response. “That technique is also good for solo play.” He added causing your eyes to widen.

“Loki, I don’t solo play.” You lied.

“You forget that I’m very observant” he winked causing your eyes to widen further “and as much as you try to keep me out of your knicker draw, I find myself drawn towards it especially when I hear a light buzzing coming from it.”

“Ohmygod.” You sighed into the pillow.

Keep calm and remember to breathe deeper 😉😂

Tags:

@lokisninerealms @lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @lulubelle814 @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @eyesbluelikethetitanic @vickie5446 @mcufan72 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @lokilvrr @evelyn-kingsley @strangelockd @xorpsbane @lovingchoices14 @donaweasley

[christinebloodwrittings]

Smart Dress pt2

Request: Hiiii Could you do a Loki x reader based off Green Green Dress from tick tick boom?? It’s a 3am idea and I can’t get it out of my head. It’s probably dumb but you’d def be able to do it actually well. By: @amesmorningstar

Re requested by: @eleniblue

Sorry for the delay, I went through some stuff.

Part one

*My requests are open*

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Summary: Will Loki be able to fix his mistakes?

Warnings: angst, NSFW.

Loki Taglist: @lokisprettygirl22 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @high-functioning-lokipath @thereadinggeek @el-zef @beakami @lokiprompts @ilovefanfictions @eleniblue @novena-proxy  @lulubelle814  @beakami @laurenandloki @tjellisworld

“Stay” he pleaded against your hair, “Give me one good reason”.

“I really…uhm” it wasn't the best moment to be at loss of words, but he tripped with all sorts of different sentences, not a single one made sense or was good enough to express how he felt.

He took way too long, in tears you sighed, putting your hands on his arms to force him release you, "I knew it" you murmured.

"Fuck" he cursed. Loki turned you around, closed the door with your back against it, and before you could protest he kissed you.

That kiss took you back to the beginning of the year. New year's eve, you just got back from a two week mission, that wasn't supposed to last two weeks.

You almost missed New year's eve, your plan was a night of sleep, not caring about the whole thing, because you were bruised and tired, because you just had to be undercover rescuing some dumb cop that got caught spying some mobsters.

Apparently it involved the avengers because the cop is a mutant of some sorts, so because of his dumb ass you were stuck in a dirty cell instead of celebrating.

And why you? Because no one else wanted to go, and you were late to the meeting. Stark had the laugh of his life.

Stark on the other hand, teared that plan to shreds with his whole event going on. There was no way to reach the dorms with the party in your way. Also with Natasha and Wanda being all over you to get you to stay and have fun.

You ended up staying because, what the hell, right? You needed the drink and to kick someone's ass for the horrible mission they threw you in.

After a lot of drinks, Thor saw pertinent introducing his brother to the team, seeing that no one would be within reason enough to refuse him, bold but smart move.

Loki, in your drunken eyes, was the most beautiful being you had ever seen, though, what came out of your mouth was simply humiliating.

You called him weird, because you believed aliens were supposed to be green skinned, he actually laughed and told you his actual skin color is blue, in his ever so sarcastically polite manner of course.

Since he was in a mean mood, your drunken ass had no other better idea than making him absolutely uncomfortable. "So if your skin is blue, then so is your tongue and your dick?" Everyone of course laughed at your dumb question, Thor on the other hand was a bit worried the temper of his brother might get him to set you on fire.

"You talk to me like that again, mortal, I dare you" his voice resonated through the room, making the other 'ooh' in response, like when a classmate is being called out by the teacher.

After a good laugh, you stood up, poked his leather covered chest and spoke, "Listen popsicle, I had a rough couple of weeks, okay? Threaten me again, and I'll throw you out that window" pointing the open window behind you. "You wouldn't dare" he lowered his head enough to be face to face with you, his lips very close to yours.

After a little snicker, you stole a kiss from him, "Behave handsome, and you'll never know" after a wink you sat again, taking a big sip out of your drink.

To say he was stunned was an understatement, he had his revenge though. After Wanda changed your liquor into water, pulling what you called a reverse Jesus, you weren't drunk enough for when Loki cornered you against a wall and kissed you.

"An eye for an eye, minx" he purred in your ear before vanishing in the air.

Funny, he swore you wouldn't remember, but when you reminded him of it the morning after, he spilled his coffee all over the kitchen counter.

--

"Please stay" he brought your mind back to the situation, "Ask the bitch you were with to satisfy you, she must be looking forward to fuck you" he chuckled at your spite, finding it both cute and alluring.

"Is that why you've been unbearable all week? You're jealous." His eyes shone with the power that emanated from within him, power that he knew he had over you.

"I'm not jealous." Your denial made him laugh, even more than he was already having fun with your anger. "Honey, if you wanted my attention so much, you should have told me." He closed the distance, raising one knee to separate your legs and have you closer. .

His goal must have been to devour you, because of the way his tongue tasted the inside of your mouth, a kiss that lit the candle of passion for him.

"Wait," you moved your face, breaking the kiss, searching for air more than anything. He waited a couple of seconds for you to say something else, that you didn't want him, that you hated him, with no response.

Your lack of words guided his hand to cup your neck, gently at first, then pulled roughly until he devoured your mouth again, biting, without regard, the soft flesh of your lips.

"Darling, I've realized how careless I am to leave your needs unattended, let me fix that" he lowered his head to your collarbone and from there to the base of your ear he licked like a wolf getting a taste of his prey. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

You wanted to resist, but his kisses, ever so skillful, his hands traveling from your ass to your hips, just enough to hug them and lift you up, automatically you hooked your legs behind his back, then your hands flew to hang on his shoulders, for support. It was all too much.

This is what he does to get you in motion, you knew it. He pulls you up and then you're so lost in him, there's not enough sense that can overthrow your hunger for his clever touch, the bites he likes to leave as he goes down on you, his smart silver tongue against your clit.

In one swift motion, he laid you down on his bed, still having at least one hand on your hips to keep you grounded.

He wanted to have you again, fast. You, were doomed and lost in his caresses, your hands were all over his back and hair, his own matching your movements, while his pelvis teased yours, thrust after thrust, both undergarments were soaking wet.

As time went by, your doubts dissipated, all that remained was the lust you felt for the evil-born god, who with his hands got rid of all excess clothing. He didn't pay any attention to your lingerie, much less to your wounds. His cock was no mystery to you, he was huge and veiny, perfect for touching all those internal areas that needed his attention, and boy was he good at using it.

His hips collided with yours with each thrust, the sound of skin touching and the wet sound filled the room, as did your moans and his.

Ecstasy was a word you wouldn't use for that moment, there was a knock at the door, and it turned out to be none other than the bitch who accompanied him to the party, which made Loki hit you much harder to divert your attention.

He pulled out of you for a few seconds, then pulled your body towards him, rotating your hips until you were on all fours. He grabbed your hair and he continued fucking you, the thrusts getting stronger and more accurate, hitting every single spot he knows make you week.

"You're mine, to touch, to have, only mine" he breathed against your ear, to which you couldn't respond, the heat clouded your senses, a warm feeling crawled up your core to your chest, a feeling you knew the meaning.

"I love the way you squeeze me when you cum" he said in between panted laughs, "Now, stay, please" you shook your head, "Please love" he then pulled out, grabbed his boxers and came inside them. Disgusted, he threw them on the sink in the bathroom and left the water running on it, until they were soaked, then turned it off and returned to your defeated, tired and ashamed being.

He reached for you as soon as he positioned by your side, but you rolled away from him, "Darling, my sweet love" his hand caressed yours, it was so warm, but of course your pride was stronger than your love for him, so you moved it away from his touch.

"You're still mad at me?" he sounded so surprised, so you laughed, sarcastically obviously. "All this time, you made me believe that you liked me enough".

"What do you mean? I like you," you didn't want to believe anything he said at that moment, "But you still go out with other women, you kiss me, you fuck me and I'm still not enough," again he was left without explanations, " Honey, that's not-" he tried, but he stopped himself, biting his tongue before saying something he'd regret.

"I don't care, you made me think you wanted more than just a quick fuck, but then it was slut after slut" you stood up, first putting on your bra, then your stockings, then your dress, your shoes were actually too much for the state of your legs, so you had them hanging

“Y/n” he called out to you, but you still hadn’t gotten everything out of your chest.

"I'm sick of this, Loki, I don’t wanna do this anymore" holding a tear behind while saying it, burned, but you had to either draw the line or break the cycle.

"But I do like you" that wasn't enough, he thought, still being at loss of proper thinking.

"That’s not the point, horns" he saw in your eyes, and on the way you were hugging your shoes close to your figure, a way to feel your words, deep inside him they resonated.

But before he could feel bad, "It's been a while since you called me that" he purred that sentence like a way to ease the tension.

But you huffed and rolled your eyes, making him lose some of the sanity he had left, "Norns woman, will you tell me what I did wrong?".

"Geez Loki, do I have to think for you too? You used to be so witty, maybe the whores sucked off your brain too"

“Right, stay mad at me for absolutely no reason then, that’s fine by me”

"No reason? I wasted a year of my life to a god, that resulted no different from a regular human asshole"

“Mind your words, mortal”

“Funny, I thought you liked my dirty mouth, horns”

“Just tell me what I can do”

“Figure it out”

As soon as he saw you leave the room, he jumped out of bed, dressed with a spell, and ran after you. The sounds of the party were getting louder, obviously the party continued, a simple fight was always part of Stark's meetings, so people saw it as something common.

“Y/n, you were right” he caught your arm, just before you stepped out to the living room. “I started feeling things for you, but, I couldn’t bring myself to fill in the role of partner you need, not because I didn’t wanted to, the reason is unknown to me” his doubt was the only reason you needed to know that he was still the same prince that blew up his own planet a year ago.

“Sounds void to me” your coldness gave his frozen heart frostbite, so full of truth nonetheless, “I know, but I can’t afford to lose you” it had to stop, you thought, “But you can’t bring yourself to love me properly” you slipped your hand from his touch, “I…We need to stop, I can’t with this”.

It's hard to let go of something you thought you loved but that was destroying you with every kiss and empty promise, but the feeling of freedom that invaded you after a month of detox was unmatched.

Finally, after a month, you stopped caring who he was dating or not, and also the gifts he left at your door, with letters begging for your forgiveness. "You're forgiven, Loki, I'm just not interested in having anything with someone who doesn't know how to take things with responsibility and commitment," much less with a prince who has always had everything on a silver platter and women who lined up to have sex with him.

Maybe he was much more than that, but you didn't know, he never let you see beyond his superficial way of being. You saw some vulnerability when he hugged you after sex and stayed with you until the next morning, and then he said goodbye with a kiss, but after so much pain, you started to doubt if he was really opening up to you, or it was only the reflection his exterior facade.

Either way, life goes on, and so did you.

[write-and-wander]

TGLI | Two: To Fill Days with Blessed Eternity

Loki (MCU/Norse Lore) x Female Reader (OC) Description: The rescue, and the aftermath. Forgiveness comes quickly from the heart of the timid; but it does not change the course of the stubborn. Warnings: N/A | Word count: 3.8k

Read on Ao3 | Prologue | One | Two | ... | (/13)

You’ve lost count of the number of days that have passed since you arrived in Jotunheim.

Once you had seen the snow-capped mountaintops of the frozen realm, you realized the talons that held you were that of a transformed jotun; and likely one that decided it was time you shared your gift with them.  When you landed in an unfamiliar home, Thjazi made himself known by returning to his true frost giant form, confirming your theory:

You were here to serve the jotnar now.

Where were the promised valkyrie protectors, meant to keep greedy others at bay?  Where were the gods who had claimed to love you, and had sung your praises upon the deliverance of their eternity?  Where was the god of mischief who had robbed you of your heart and home, leaving you at the hands of a cold giant?

You don’t know.  You tried to count the days in which you had been left without answers, but time has continued to revel in its cruelty as it crawls by at a pace you cannot keep up with, blurring the world around you into a cold, muddled, snowy gray.

You tried pleading with Thjazi, in the beginning, to let you go.  No matter what you would say, it seemed all for naught.  He knew who you were; he knew the gods would age and die should you be shut out from them forever.  He would not budge.  To him, to the jotnar, and seemingly to all the nine realms, you and your gift are made nothing more than a commodity to be hoarded;  And hoard you, he did.

Your once-pristine white robes have tattered and dulled and grayed from their continuous wear, despite usually being covered in furs to maintain warmth amidst the frigid climate.  Your hair has grown rather long, usually maintained now by braids.  Though you’re limited by the situation, you’ve still managed a small wintery garden near the house Thjazi kept you in.  You’re thankful for the bit of color it provides in the gray wasteland.

As you sit on your thin mattress, staring out through the window of the second floor of Thjazi’s home, your frail body still aches from the night before- from Thjazi dragging you to yet another feast, wherein you were put on display like prized livestock.  You stood all night at the front of the hall, your ankles and wrists sore from the chilled metal that attached you to the ground, keeping you in place.  Boars were often caged beside you, slaughtered just before the feast began in the name of providing the freshest meat.  You wondered if the animals understood their place in this cruel event, too.  You almost hoped they do, despite the part of you that wishes they maintain blissful ignorance for as long as they can to reduce their suffering.  If they knew they were here to be used at the jotnar’s whims, then maybe you wouldn’t be so alone.  You usually tried to offer them comfort within their cold cages- through small food offerings, or soft words, or a calming hand brushing down their back.  It was the least you could do for your fellow livestock.

In line with the new routine, the animal was slaughtered by cheering drunkards in the center of the hall.  Numb, you silently blessed their meal, placing a trembling hand on the raw, bloody meat.  Then, you spent the rest of the evening waiting to return to a home that was not yours, where you collapsed into a dreamless slumber.

Each morning that you woke was its own sort of prison.  Your dreams were blinks of black, bearing you no sense of escape as even the goddess Nott’s gift of dreams would not reach you in this frigid place.  Loneliness saturated your existence.  The house you were held in was lonely, even if Thjazi was there.  The grand banquets in great halls were lonely, even when filled with jubilant crowds.  Your small garden was lonely, even with the few plants you maintained.  You were constantly utterly alone.  You’d cry over it more often if tears meant anything anymore.

Thjazi was generous enough to give you some leftover food from the bacchanalian feast before he went out to sea for the day.  The bread and cooled meat sit on a cloth in your lap.  You wonder how long he will be gone; if he will return tonight, or grant you a couple days of peace through his absence.  Only time will tell.

For now, you sit, leaning against the frame of the window, staring out into the white abyss and wondering what will become of your Asgardian garden and your gods.  You tie the cloth in your lap closed and set it beside you, hoping you’ll be in the mood to eat later.  A fine golden chain delicately drapes around your neck, the green stone resting between your fingers as you mindlessly fidget with the prize that acted as the final nail in your coffin.  

You replay the memory in your head again in a torturous ritual you’ve made for yourself, searching for answers you can never seem to find.  The arm of Loki beneath your hand.  The sound of running water over the small cave.  The moonflower.  The books.  The promise of return.  The gold shimmer.  The empty forest.  The unanswered cries.  The cold wind.  The sharp talons.  There is nothing.  No answers, no closer to home, and no god of mischief.  

You force your thoughts to focus on your garden instead, and wonder if you might see it again.  You mentally begin your walk through your home, knowing every plant in it by heart.  The thought of walking in that soft grass grants you a touch of much-needed comfort.

You watch the clouds slowly drift by in their various shades of gray, thinking of those you’ve been forced to leave behind, when there’s a heavy knock at the door.

You freeze.  Thjazi only left a couple of hours ago… and he explicitly instructed me not to answer the door.  Grabbing your pouch of food, you quickly stand and move across the room on the pads of your feet, minimizing any noise your footsteps could make.

While you climb down the large steps to the main floor, the stranger knocks at the door again- and this time, it’s faster.  Heavier.  Growing upset.

With a quick glance around the room, you decide to dive under Thjazi’s massive bed, using the disheveled quilt that drapes halfway off the side as cover for your dwarfed body.

“I know you’re in there,” the voice booms from the other side of the door.

You lay your cheek against the near-frozen wood floor and stare out from under the edge of the blanket-shield with wide eyes, focusing on your breath, that it might steady in spite of your racing heart.

With a great crack, the door is forced open, slamming against the parallel wall.

Your hand flies to your mouth, stifling a yelp and muffling your ragged breath.  Your heart pounds in your chest.

Heavy footsteps slowly come closer, pausing for a moment while the broken door is forced closed, and continuing again until the intruder reaches the center of the room.

Blue skin peeks out above giant boots.  A jotunn.  The boots begin to pace, turning as they scan the room.

“Idunn?” A whisper breaks the silence- one that seems familiar to you, somehow.  “Please tell me that oaf had the confidence to leave you here,” he says low, his tone strained by panic.  The boots turn towards the bed before pausing.

Your heart stops.  You hold your breath.

In a flash of scintillating bright green magic, the giant’s boots are suddenly replaced by much smaller ones- that of someone about your size.  What kind of trick-

“I’ve come to take you home, Idunn,” he says, his whisper rising to soft speech.

There’s a moment of hesitation within you until it finally clicks: you know that voice.  You’re certain of it.  Is that… Loki?

With a sharp exhale, you lift the quilt.

Your eyes trail up fine emerald and gold robes until they meet the heartbroken jade eyes of the God of Mischief.

You crawl out from under the bed.  Straightening yourself, you drop your eyes to the floor and keep them low, struggling to maintain his stare.  You know you look worn- but you're not sure you want to know just how worn.

A raging sea of thoughts passes through your mind.  Is this a trick?  Are you one of them?  How can I be certain you will take me home?  Why are you the one who came?  Has my absence at last been noticed?  As always, only one manages to make its way from racing mind to quiet mouth.  “How long?”

He pauses, his troubled expression stripping him of his usual nonchalant mask.  He was prepared for your anger- most everyone has grown angry with him.  However, he was not prepared for your resigned grief.  “Idunn-”

“How long,” you interrupt emphatically, finally looking up, into his eyes, “have I been gone?”

His stare darts between your eyes as his mind grasps for words.

You take a step closer to him.  “Loki-”

“Three years.”

You are immediately locked in an emotional stun.

Three years.

Three years since you've seen the gods you had come to love.  Three years since you were stripped of your own volition.  Three years since you've tended to your garden.  Three years since you've been home.

And based on the way he looks at you now- as if you are something fragile, something that could break if he moved too fast or spoke too harshly- these three long years have come at a great cost, taking a heavy toll on the Goddess of Eternal Youth.

Tear ducts that had long remained dormant spring to life with full vigor, creating twin cascades of tears that run down your cheeks, flushed from the cold.

The dense fog of a silent “why?” settles in the room.

“I can explain,” Loki blurts.

You remain silent, watching him.

“But we must leave.  Now.”

Though despondent, you nod, stepping closer.

He nods, taking a deep breath, reminding himself:  It’s okay to touch you; you won’t break beneath his fingertips.  With a flourish, the god ghosts a hand over your shoulder and transforms you into something small- you're not entirely sure what, to be honest.  In a second green swirl of magic, he turns into a large black bird, similar to the one that had stolen you away from your home all that time ago.  Gently, he picks you up off the ground with his talons, carrying you close to his feathered body to keep you warm.  He pokes his head out of the now-broken door- the one you long stared at as you dreamt of walking through it for good- and after determining the surroundings were vacant, takes off.  The heavy beating of his great wings lifts you into the frigid air, over the giant wooden houses and tall snow capped mountains, and into the grey clouds you had grown so acquainted with from your frosted window.

You watch Jotunheim fade from view as a bittersweet grief settles in the pit of your stomach.  You're glad to be going home, yes; but three years is a long time to be gone, and a long time to endure so much.  There were still countless questions weighing on your numbed consciousness. 

You hope Loki has one hel of an explanation.

Landing on Asgard is surprisingly reminiscent of your first arrival; at least, on the outside.  There is still no crowd awaiting your return home, nor is there any sort of welcome decorum.  Instead, there is an angry All Father standing beside Frigga and a row of Valkyries, blurred by your thick tears that haven’t stopped since you finally left Jotunheim.  

When Loki lands, he transforms back into his usual form, carefully cradling you in his palm.  When you are transformed back, you're laying across his outstretched arms and quickly set down on your feet.

“Welcome home, Idunn,” Frigga greets warmly with a mothers’ embrace.  As you sob into her shoulder, she steals a glance at Odin and gently pries you off of her.  “Come, we'll clean you up.”  She places a soft hand on your arm and ushers you away.

As you walk away, tears still trickling down your cheeks, you hear the distressed tone of Loki's voice quickly smothered by the booming rage of your All Father.

Frigga is quick to lovingly tend to you when you arrive at her palace.

After a warm rosewater bath, you are given new white clothes to replace your tattered robes.  A meal is prepared for you right away- the first warm meal you’ve had in a long while- and a goblet of water is kept full before you.  You cry until you can’t anymore, drink deep and eat your fill, and cry again.

Frigga, ever your closest ally, sits beside you, drying your tears with soft cloths.

You don’t say much of anything.  What is there to say?  She knows the jotun, and what they’re like.  She knows what happened- likely more than you do.  You’re finally home, and you’re safe.  Your gift is yours again.  You are yours again.  That’s all that matters, now.

When you finish eating, Frigga instructs you to rest.  She promises to bring food and check in throughout the day, but she will wait to break the news to the rest of the gods until you feel ready.  You’re well overdue for a trip through the realms, and the gods will be restless until they are rejuvenated again- so it’s for the best that they don’t hear of your return until you begin your travels.

Frigga walks you to your home under the silver glow of Mani.

Arriving at your garden, you see that it has been carefully maintained for you- not as well as you would maintain it, but well enough to keep everything healthy.  It’s a meaningful gesture.  A few extra Valkyries stand guard faithfully at the garden gates.  A couple follow you inside your tower, where Frigga gives you another long embrace before bidding you goodnight.

You are left to rest that night.  The Valkyries remain closer than usual to grant you the company you’ve so deeply craved these three long years.  Exhausted, and in your own bed at last, you drift into a deep sleep.

It isn’t until you rise at last, late into the following afternoon, that Loki makes his appearance at the door of your tower.

“May I?” he asks, anxiously pressing his left thumb into his right palm.  The expression he wears is soft, free of all pretense.  There’s a light crease between his brows as he awaits an answer.  Vulnerability is something the God of Mischief has comfortably slipped away from; yet, here he is, willing himself to expose his emotions to you.

You nod, stepping to the side and closing the door behind him as he enters.

He takes a moment to look around, his eyes briefly pausing on various details in the room.  

Green plants hang from pots chained to the ceiling, cushioned chairs sit around an ornately carved wooden table, and sunlight fills the room, highlighting the golden calligraphy hand-painted on the wall-space that remains between giant windows from which white curtains are pulled back.  The smell of chamomile and rosemary dances on the back of the cool breeze drifting in through the open window.  There’s a touch of life delicately interlaced with every aspect of your home; as if you can’t help but bring gentle vibrancy to everything you encounter.  It suits you.

So much so that Loki feels completely engulfed by you.  Normally, that would almost feel comforting- but in this circumstance, he feels nearly smothered.

You remain standing by the door, watching him.  Your arm crosses over your front as a hand grasps its opposite bicep, a self-soothing gesture to quell the fire of anxiety that has sparked in your chest.

He stands for a while, mouth slightly agape as he tries to decide what to say first.  When he at last speaks, his voice is soft and uneven: “How are you?”

You shrug, softly shaking your head.  “I am… alright.  As much as I can be, I suppose.”

“Did they hurt you?”  His eyes drop, and you realize he’s staring at the reddened raw skin on your exposed wrists.

“No,” you blurt, shaking your head, “well… Not directly.”  

He nods, a touch of relief washing over him.  His shoulders relax, but his thumb still idly presses into his palm, giving way to his lingering anxiety over the conversation that looms over the two of you.

You take a few steps closer, pulling out a chair and sitting on one side of your table.  You fold your hands together in your lap, staring down at them.

Loki follows suit, taking his place in the adjacent chair and turning it to face you.  He learns forward, collapsing his hands together and resting his elbows on his knees.  He breathes out a long, heavy sigh.  “It began years ago, after word of your arrival and travels had at least reached every corner of the nine realms.  I discovered,” he lifts his hand, and the ivory skin shifts to an icy blue, “my true lineage.”

“You’re… jotunn?”

He nods.  “Taken as a babe and brought here by Odin.  As soon as I learned the truth, I went to Jotunheim to demand answers.  My mother and father knew.  They saw it happen, and… simply watched.”

Your brows knit together, your heart sinking for him.

“They justified their inaction with a hope: if I were to learn of my true heritage, perhaps I would align with the jotnar and help them gain the immortality Odin has long claimed he would find.  They believe they could come to rule the nine realms so long as they lived long enough to build an adequate army.”

You hesitate, fearful to ask, but eventually manage: “And?”

“I denied them, of course!  I wouldn’t relinquish you into their hands so easily.”  He looks at you with an expression of pleading; one that begs that you believe him.  That you don’t turn your back on him so quickly.  That you forgive him for this horrid thing he’s done to you, even before he’s fully confessed.

You nod, encouraging him to continue.

“They nearly killed me on the spot, promising that Asgard’s blood would pool with mine; and then they made an offer.  If I delivered your gift to them, they would refrain from attacking Asgard.  It wasn’t until you granted me the first apple that I realized you and your gift are one and the same.”

“And it was too late to go back on that bargain,” you finish for him.

He nods.  “I tried to grant you what little comfort I could, before you would be taken from us,” he adds half-heartedly- knowing there was nothing he could say that could make any of what he had done better.  He concedes to the guilt.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Your eyes drift downward as the realization settles as a grief in your chest.  The choice laid before him was simple: you, or countless others and a war without an end in sight.  Of course he gave you up- what other reasonable option was there?

Yet, your last memories were… sweet, by his design. 

His eyes flicker to your chest, catching the shimmer of the paradox necklace that still faithfully rests against your skin; a bitter symbol of his betrayal, but now, too, a touching memento of his devotion.  Despite the conflict in your heart, it ultimately encapsulated the god you cherish so deeply- a paradox in his own right.  Your downfall and your savior; the god who both doomed his kind and sought recompense by saving them.  You wouldn’t part from his gift in your captivity; you certainly wouldn’t part from it now.

He returns his gaze to yours, a hopeful peace washing over him.   

You’re almost comforted by the thought of Loki’s intention, leaving that necklace behind.  Now, staring into his eyes, you wonder if there’s more to be found within them.  Beyond the regret, past the hope, buried beneath the hesitation.  Perhaps there is more; perhaps you are merely projecting that which you refuse to come to terms with yourself.  You resign yourself only to wonder.

“I would have gone willingly, if you had only asked,” you finally profess, breaking the silence.  Because I would do anything for you, if you asked.

“I could not have asked such a thing of you, Idunn,” he responds softly.  A few words flood his mind and weigh heavy on his tongue.

He will not utter them.

“I promise you,” he insists, taking one of your trembling hands in his, “I will make them pay for what they forced upon me.  For what they’ve done to you.”

Quiet tears fall.  You nod.

“I understand if-”

“I forgive you, Loki.”

His expression instantly softens from one of grief and regret to relief.  His shoulders relax, but his grip on your hand tightens.  The corners of his mouth pull into a brief, soft smile.

Tucking your free hand beneath his, you lift his hands- still gingerly wrapped around yours- and press your lips to his knuckles.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a soft smile.

The warmth that sets his heart aflame is enough to strip him of the bitterness garnered by the newly-discovered jotun form that sits beneath the Asgardian illusion.

You stand, guiding him by the hand to the gates of your garden.  The two of you walk in silence.  With a gentle squeeze of the hand, you at last let go, turning around and heading back to your tower.

He stands for a few seconds, watching you leave, and swallows his words before he, too, walks away.  He cannot tell you now.  He will not tell you now; not after what he has done.

Not when there is yet more he must do.

Not until revenge is wrought from the jotun who set their greedy sights on you.

After that, he will tell you at last.  Once revenge and victory are proclaimed from the mountainous bodies felled by his lying hands, he will offer them as a sacrifice at the altar of your heart and confess the sins committed in his devotion to his ever-worshiped goddess.

And there will be no choice but to adorn him with a husband’s ring and a king’s crown upon the great golden throne.

[snowflakesnsundry]

Until Dust Chapter 123: That Which is New and Uncomfortable

Word Count: 4,466

Summary: We see Skadi for the first time, and Loki gracelessly manages his insecurities.

Warnings: Story is Rated R.

Author’s Notes: I'm trying to get back to a Friday post schedule since I like it best. It's just a good way to wrap up the week, you know? Also the chapter name is shit bc i couldn't think of a good one. Suggest a better one if you can think of it!

[simplyholl]

Loki Oneshots

18+ Only. Minors DNI.

Snowed In

A Christmas Wish

Feast

Titles and Temptations

New Year’s Eve

A Moonlit Picnic

The Sex Tape

The Birthday Gift ft Bucky

All Eyes On Me

Traitor

A Big Tip

Be A Good Girl For Daddy

Bad Idea, Right?

The President’s Pet

Frozen Stiff

Birthday Girl

A Gift For A God

Exposure

Three’s Company ft Bucky

Truly Desperate

Buckle Up

Punished

Happily Never After Pt 1

The Bet

Fireworks

[writingfics-passingtime]

Hi! Just want to say I love your blog and this the first time I’ve ever asked regarding a prompt. Stairway to Heaven is my favorite Led Zeppelin song (if it’s too long, I have a back up song) and my marvel character would be Loki. Thank you, this is such a cool idea!!

The Road You're On

This one-shot is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Word Count: ~3400

CW: swearing, innuendo/sexual jokes, discussions about sex, mentions of death, alcohol

Minors DNI: this work does not contain smut, but contains a romantic/sexual relationship between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

Note: Hi @princessdragon23 ~ thank you very much for sending this song in, and for your lovely message. It's hard for me to describe the way this song made me feel, except to say that this story truly unfolded before my eyes as I listened to it on repeat. I hope you like it x

The streets of the coastal town were eerily quiet as you made your way home, the damp cobblestones glistening under the dim light of the street lamps. The weight of the night clung to your skin, mingling with the faint scent of salt and smoke from the bar where you’d just finished your shift. Your boots scuffed along the uneven ground, a rhythmic reminder that you were still here, still alive, still kicking despite everything.

You hated this walk. Too quiet. Too empty. Too much room for your mind to claw at the past.

A group of locals had been arguing about something at the bar tonight - a football match or politics, you hadn’t cared enough to listen. But their raised voices had sent a pang through your chest, reminding you of the way the Avengers used to argue over mission strategies. It was stupid, really. You'd never been perfect, but you’d convinced yourself you were unbreakable. Found family, or whatever bullshit term people threw around these days.

Until it all fell apart.

Your jaw tightened, and you shook the thought off. No sense picking at old wounds when they were still festering. Instead, you focused on the here and now, the comforting weight of the dagger tucked up your sleeve, the streetlights’ flickering glow, the faint hum of distant waves.

And then you felt it.

A prickle of awareness shot down your spine, and you slowed your steps. Someone was behind you.

You didn’t stop, didn’t look back right away. You kept walking, casually adjusting your sleeve so the blade was easier to draw. Your senses honed in on the sound - soft, deliberate footsteps matching yours at a careful distance.

Not a drunk. Not a thief. Someone who knew what they were doing.

When you reached the corner of a dark alleyway, you pivoted sharply, hand twitching toward your weapon.

“Alright, asshole,” you growled. “If you’re looking for trouble, you’ve fucking found it-”

The words died on your lips as a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a fluid grace that was both menacing and magnetic. The streetlamp cast a halo of pale light over him, illuminating the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the curve of his smirking mouth.

“Loki.”

You said his name like a curse, but the breath hitching in your throat betrayed you. He’d always had that effect - chaos wrapped in charm, danger dressed up as desire. And here he was, standing in the middle of your carefully constructed exile, looking as smug as ever.

Your heart slammed against your ribs, not in fear, but in something far more dangerous.

He stepped closer, his black coat sweeping around his legs, the faint scent of leather and ozone curling in the air between you. “Imagine my disappointment,” he said, “returning to this wretched realm only to find its so-called heroes scattered like ashes. It seems I missed quite the spectacle.”

His words hit their mark, as they always did, but you refused to flinch. “You’re late to the party,” you bit out, your voice laced with venom. “It all went to hell months ago.”

“And yet, here you are,” he said, his gaze sweeping over you, slow and assessing. “Playing bartender. Hiding in plain sight. How... quaint.”

You scoffed, though your pulse betrayed you, quickening under his scrutiny. “Cut the bullshit, Loki. How the hell did you find me?”

He smiled - a sharp, wolfish thing that sent a shiver down your spine. “Do you really think there’s a corner of this universe where you could hide from me?”

The weight of his words sank deep, pulling at something you weren’t ready to face. You clenched your fists, feeling the cold press of the blade against your wrist. “Why are you here?”

“For you.”

The words were simple, but the way he said them - low and deliberate, with just the faintest trace of vulnerability - made your stomach twist.

“Don’t,” you said, taking a step back. The cool night air suddenly felt too thick, too heavy. “Don’t come here and start with that shit. I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Neither am I,” he said, stepping forward, closing the distance you’d tried to create. “But you, my darling, are nothing short of a temptation. One I couldn’t resist.”

Your breath hitched, heat flaring in your chest and spreading like wildfire. His gaze pinned you, dark and electric, his presence filling the empty street until it felt like there wasn’t enough air to breathe.

“No. You're carrying yourself differently,” you said, desperate to shift the focus, to wrest some control back from him. “Something happened.”

His smirk faltered, just for a fraction of a second.

"What happened, Loki?"

His eyes flicked away, then back to yours, and for the first time, you saw it - the crack in his armour, the weight pressing on him. Whatever had brought him here, it wasn’t just you.

You glanced around, your gaze darting to the shadowed streets around you. Too exposed. Too vulnerable. "Fuck," you grunted under your breath, passing a hand down your face. “Come on,” you said, nodding toward the alley that led to your apartment. “We can talk at my place.”

“An invitation?” he asked, tilting his head, the smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How scandalous.”

You gave him only a severe and warning look in return. One that dared him to hide the truth from you. One that dared him to try and deflect from whatever horrific news he'd come to deliver by rekindling some old flirtatious banter.

Whatever storm he’d brought with him, it was about to collide with the chaos you’d been holding at bay.

Your apartment was a sanctuary you hadn’t realised you needed until it became yours - a quiet haven tucked into the upper floor of a modest building overlooking the Spanish coast. It was small, cozy, and uncomplicated. The exact opposite of Stark Tower.

It was everything you’d craved since your life had gone to hell. No mission briefings, no JARVIS, no one barking orders at you. Just you, the sound of waves crashing in the distance, and the occasional hum of the town below.

You hung your jacket on the hook near the door, left in nothing but a tank top and your worn jeans, both smelling faintly of the beer you'd been pulling all night.

The apartment was small enough that you could feel Loki's presence fill it the moment he stepped inside, bringing with him that same palpable energy he carried everywhere.

It was stupid, inviting him here. Bringing a piece of your old life into a place you'd so carefully curated to banish all thoughts of what you used to be. And who you used to trust.

You didn’t look back at him as you moved to the kitchen, flicking on the warm overhead light and reaching for the bottle of liquor you kept on the counter.

You grabbed the bottle of gin without turning around. “If you’re going to bust your way back into my life, at least make yourself useful. Lime’s in the fridge.”

Loki chuckled, the sound low and dark, vibrating through you like a physical thing, as he walked past and retrieved the lime. He came up beside you, setting it on the counter. “It's fascinating, this domesticated version of you. But it's almost... disappointing.”

“Oh, you're disappointed?" You sliced the knife into the lime, then looked up at him with something equally as sharp, refusing to back down even as he loomed closer. "Must be rough, dragging your sorry ass across the universe just to insult me in my own fucking kitchen.”

His grin only deepened, eyes glittering with something sharp and dangerous. “You’ve always had such a filthy little mouth. Has no one here put it to good use?”

The air between you snapped taut, his words hanging there like a dare. Heat flushed through you, but you wouldn’t let him see how much he got to you.

You’d always stuck to your guns of never mixing business with pleasure; anyone remotely related to work was off-limits. Loki knew this - your infuriating little rule as he called it - and found much entertainment in tempting you to break it. You, in turn, had found a great thrill in the game. The flirting, the teasing, the desire. A welcome distraction from the heaviness of the work.

“Maybe,” you said, raising your glass to your lips and taking a slow sip, testing it. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Loki laughed, a rich, dark sound that made your stomach tighten. “Darling,” he said, leaning against the counter beside you, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Instead, you turned back to your drink components and muttered, “It’s hard to trust strangers when you know what humanity’s capable of.”

"Humanity... or your former comrades?"

You didn't turn to glare at him again, but the weight of his words lingered. What you said hadn’t been a total lie - not really. You didn’t trust anyone enough to let them close, and the few who had tried didn’t come anywhere near the bar Loki had set just by existing. But you weren’t about to admit that to him.

You pulled a glass down from the cabinet, and began mixing another drink.

You didn't need to respond about your former comrades. He could see the answer in the half-empty bottles littering the windowsill. In the way that everything about this place - about your new life - was the exact opposite of the one you used to lead.

By the time he leaned against the counter beside you, you could feel the heat of his gaze, and you handed him a drink without making eye contact, focussing on replacing the bottles as he sipped.

He hummed slightly as he pulled back, the faintest sound of approval in the voicing.

“Impressive,” he admitted.

You smirked and picked up your own drink. “Killing isn’t the only thing I’m good at.”

Before he could respond, you hopped up onto the counter beside him, letting your leg rest casually against his. The contact sent a flicker of heat up your spine, but you masked it with another sip of your drink, watching him over the rim of the glass.

“We could’ve used you here, you know,” you said, your tone quiet but pointed. “... I could’ve used you.”

Loki’s jaw tightened, his smirk fading as he looked away briefly. “Asgard needed us,” he said after a moment, his voice lower now. “I always intended to return.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head as you brought your glass to your lips. “Would’ve been nice to know that when I was rotting in an off-grid prison,” you said bitterly, letting the words hang in the air like smoke.

Loki flinched, but only slightly, and his voice softened. “I didn’t know.” He looked at you then, fully, his eyes heavy with something that almost resembled regret. “If I had... I would’ve come for you.”

The weight of his words pressed against your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You believed him. The edge in his voice, the way his gaze lingered on you - it cut through your defences in a way nothing else could.

You took another sip of your drink, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “Doesn’t matter,” you said finally, shrugging as though it didn’t ache to say it. “Steve didn’t take that long to bust us out.”

He didn’t reply, just sipped his drink, and for a moment, the two of you drank in silence. The warmth of the liquor settled in your stomach, mixing with the heat radiating from his proximity.

Then you set your glass down and looked him in the eye. “Why are you here, Loki?”

His gaze locked onto yours, sharp and unflinching, as he drained the rest of his glass. He placed it on the counter with deliberate care before answering. “Thor and I stopped an apocalypse, known as Ragnarok,” he said, his voice measured but edged with exhaustion. “It would have destroyed Asgard, and all its people. It very nearly did.”

Your stomach dropped, shame crawling up your spine. All your bitter complaints about his absence felt suddenly small and selfish in the face of what he’d been dealing with.

But he wasn’t done. “But that doesn't matter now. Thanos is close,” he continued, his tone darkening. “He is coming to Earth to hunt the remaining Infinity Stones. And he will tear your world apart to get them.”

You stiffened, the weight of his words sinking in. You scoffed, more out of instinct than disbelief, and reached for the bottle to pour yourself another glass. “Sounds like a problem for what’s left of the Avengers,” you said, forcing a note of bitterness into your voice. “Talk to Tony. Or Natasha, or Fury-”

“Thor is with them already,” Loki interrupted.

Your hand froze mid-pour, and your stomach churned again. You set the bottle down, gripping the edge of the counter as the realisation hit you. “They sent you to find me.”

“No.” Loki’s voice was firm, steady. “I came because you need to understand what is coming. Anyone who can fight... must.”

The words hung heavy between you, cutting through the faint hum of the night outside. You swallowed hard, then grabbed the bottle again and poured a shot straight into your empty glass.

"You don't know what you're asking me."

"I do."

You downed it in one go, letting the burn distract you for a fleeting second before setting the glass down with a sharp clink.

"No, you fucking don't. They watched. They stood there, and watched as we were being cuffed, sedated, carted away to the Raft-"

"I understand-"

"I was arrested for treason, Loki!" Your fingers tightened around the bench as that familiar burning fear raced through you. You shut your eyes and breathed through it. Trying to figure out a way to explain... "Treason carries the death penalty. And... they stood by and watched."

Loki's hand slid over yours, and you felt your grip ease. Felt the fear ease, too. Into something much more like the lingering scar of betrayal.

“After Steve got us out,” you said, your voice quieter now, tinged with something raw and broken, “all I wanted was to leave that life behind. To be normal. Have a dead-end job. Read books on the beach. Drink coffee on long mornings. Have meaningless sex with hot strangers. Just... exist. Enjoy humanity.”

Loki's thumb brushed over your hand. “If you don’t want to fight,” he said, his voice soft but serious, “I will get you somewhere safe.”

You scoffed, giving him a sharp look. “Don’t be stupid,” you said. “Of course I’m going to fight."

A slow smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled his hand away, and you rolled your eyes, running a hand down your face. “I’m not really in fighting shape, though,” you muttered.

Loki’s gaze raked over you, and his smirk widened. “You look as deadly as always,” he said, his tone dripping with suggestion. "I've certainly no complaints."

You shot him a glare, though the heat rising to your face betrayed you. “Sure,” you said dryly. “Cause how I look will help take down an intergalactic warlord. Asshole.”

He chuckled, low and rich. “Did the meaningless sex at least help?”

A laugh slipped out before you could stop it, and you shook your head, smirking. “Never got to that part,” you admitted. “I guess you could say my former life left me with some trust issues."

Loki let out a low breath through his nose, allowing you to voice your bitterness. You shook your head, bumping your brows as you looked at your empty glass, then back at him. "You’re actually the first person I’ve let into this apartment.”

Loki’s smirk shifted, softening into something more thoughtful. “But obviously, you're not here for that,” you added quickly, your voice tinged with defensiveness.

“Obviously,” he echoed, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “But you never know. This could all be an elaborate ruse to make you agree to one night of passion and fun before our inevitable demise at the hands of the Mad Titan.”

You flushed deeper, glaring at him even as a laugh escaped you. “That would be an elaborate ruse indeed.”

The tension between you thickened, charged and electric, as his smirk lingered. His gaze was unwavering, piercing through every defence you’d built over the years.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Do you really think it’s inevitable?” you asked, your voice quiet, the weight of the question heavier than you wanted to admit. “That Thanos will win?”

Loki’s smirk faded, replaced by something far more somber. He held your gaze, his expression unreadable.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “But knowing you’ll be fighting... tips the scales in our favour.”

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, broken only by the low hum of the refrigerator. You tilted your head, biting back the flood of emotions threatening to spill. “We’ll leave in the morning.”

His sharp gaze didn’t waver, but the set of his jaw tightened.

“Tomorrow, we’re back to being allies,” you said, the word tasting bitter in your mouth. “And my rule goes back into play.”

"Ah, yes. Your infuriating little rule." His lips quirked into a faint smirk, but his eyes stayed on you, unrelenting. “A sensible boundary, I suppose. Though hardly foolproof.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, shrugging as casually as you could. “It’s kept me out of trouble so far.”

His gaze dipped, flickering over you in a way that made your skin flush. “Has it, though?”

You ignored the jab, focused instead on setting the glass on the counter. Then, before you could stop yourself, you said, “So, if tonight’s my last night of normal…” You met his eyes, your mouth quirking into a bitter smile. “You up for helping me fulfil my dream of having some meaningless sex before I give up this life?”

Loki stilled. The teasing glint in his eyes dimmed as his expression shifted, unreadable. He set his own glass down deliberately, his long fingers tracing the rim as if to gather his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, deliberate, and edged with something you didn’t dare name.

“Let me be very clear,” he said, his eyes pinning you in place. “I would gladly give you anything you desire in the bedroom. Anything. I would show you things that would shatter your mind, ruin you for anyone else. Pleasure so profound, so exquisite, you’d never be able to look at another lover without laughing at how pitifully inadequate they are.”

Your breath hitched, the heat in your cheeks spreading down your neck, but you refused to look away.

Heat prickled up your neck, but his eyes pinned you in place, his tone softening as he added, “But the one thing I cannot give you, is meaningless. Not with you. Never with you.”

Your heart stuttered, the weight of his words landing like a blow. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t mocking. He was standing there, raw and unguarded, and it made you want to take his hand, run far, far away, and leave the universe to defend itself.

You exhaled sharply, grabbing the edge of the counter to steady yourself. “Maybe,” you started, your voice softer than you intended, “after this whole Infinity Stone bullshit is over, we can indulge in something that’s just about us. Not about the universe. Not saving it. Just... something we've both wanted for a while.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you right there. But instead, he nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “If that promise keeps you alive,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’ll happily make it.”

You huffed a dry laugh, shaking your head as you pushed off the counter. “Well, aren’t you a hero,” you muttered, grabbing your jacket and slinging it over your shoulder. “Let’s get this over with.”

Before you could brush past him, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your arm with a grip that was firm but not rough. The contact stopped you cold, and you turned your head to look up at him.

His face was inches from yours, his voice a low murmur that felt like it was slicing through the air. “You will stay alive, won’t you?”

The sincerity in his tone knocked the air from your lungs. He wasn’t taunting you. He wasn’t playing games.

You forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Hell isn't ready for me yet,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

He held your gaze for a moment longer before releasing your arm. His hand lingered, just slightly, as if reluctant to let go. But his hand fell away, and you felt the loss of his touch like a physical ache.

You took one more deep breath, one more indulgent glance over his face, before turning headed for the door. “Come on,” you said without looking back. “Let’s go save the world.”

Behind you, Loki followed, and the quiet promise lingered between you both: something more, something meaningful, if the universe allowed it.

[whirlybirbs]

BEYOND THE VOID — !

1. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

( MASTERPOST   |   AO3  |    SPOTIFY ) summary: torn from time yet again, it's thursday. six months pass. while you grapple with a newfound uncanny ability to premeditate, loki grapples with the fact he's slipping back into his old self without you. enter brad wolfe. now playing:  a whole lots gonna change by weyes blood word count: 3.3k pairing: loki / f!reader, established in from the void, with love tags: enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates, we-are-in-love-in-the-future but how did that even happen, angst & comfort, redemption arc, lots of time travel, loki season 2 (2020) spoilers a/n: finally, they return in "beyond the void". i can't thank everyone enough for the unending enthusiasm for this little project of mine. it's fitting to have the first chapter release with an eclipse. this is for all of you :) the beautiful gif for this chapter is from this set by @tomshiddles.

"Okay."

"Okay."

There's a long stretch of silence between Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster. 

In the liminal stretch of the apartment building's hall, there's little sound except the loud drone of some horribly, desperately sad song beyond the door of Unit 1131. The two women share a long look with one another, and then Darcy gestures urgently to the door.

"Go ahead," she nudges her colleague. 

"What?" Jane asks in a harsh whisper, "No, you knock." 

"You were the one that said we needed to do an intervention—" Darcy argues back in an equally low tone.

"Oh, so now this is on me?" Jane fires back, "She's our friend—"

"Our friend who has been babbling nonsense about things that have not happened and has been seriously obsessing with that Low-key dude—" Darcy rushes out, bringing her face closer to Jane's, "I don't even know what we're walking into here!"

Jane inhales. She pinches her brow. With a long rub of her face, she exhales. Then, she knocks.

She gives Darcy a 'happy?' look before stepping back and crossing her arms.

Almost immediately, the music stops. There's the sound of a shuffle. A meow. And then, the door opens only wide enough that one exhausted eye can peak through the chained gap.

"Heeeeeeeeeey, girl!" Darcy chides, waggling her hands in the air, "Surprise!"

On the other side of the door, your heart clenches. 

It feels a little bit like a cruel joke, y'know?

All that wishing, begging, clawing to go home and — well... you are. You're home. You've been home. For six months, you've been home in New York City. You're back in that little studio apartment, with Sigurd, with your research, with your doctorate. 

ALL I WANT  TO DO IS  GO HOME.

You try your best to give both Darcy and Jane a smile, but it comes out mangled and exhausted and not quite right. You've been crying. Sort of par for the course these days.

"Oh, uh... Hi guys."

Sigurd meows.

"You got a sec?" Jane asks, raising a folder in her hands, "We, uh... Erik gave us some new anomaly data to look over and we figured... you're the one for the job! Y'know? It's... kinda... your thing... have you been crying?"

Your eyes dart between them both. You wet your lips.

"No. Nooo, no. It's..." your mouth hangs open as you search for a reason, "...Allergies."

There's a beat of embarrassing silence, and then Darcy moves fast as lightning. She wriggles her arm through the gap and unlocks the chain — almost as if this is definitely something she's mastered before — before pushing her way through the doorway of your apartment. Jane follows close behind, and Sigard squawks as he scurries away from underfoot. 

The infiltration is almost immediately regretted because... woah. 

Like, big woah.

Darcy has seen crazy. Like, she has an Uncle on her Dad's side who is totally in on the whole "they're coming for our thoughts" thing and does not leave the house without at least six layers of Great Value tinfoil stuffed under his baseball cap. She knows crazy. She works for Erik Selvig. 

But this?

This is, like, soooooo above her pay grade. 

Jane's jaw is slack. The folder is immediately forgotten on the kitchen island in favor of the wall-to-wall documentation of... whatever the hell this was. 

LOKI MISSING? in the center of it all, with string and equations and runes and news articles and tabloid pages. There's an alarming amount of photos of the God in question pinned up beside ramblings on... Time? And... Quantum mechanics...? 

There's another loooooong stretch of silence. And then, Darcy and Jane both turn slowly to look at you pressed against the door.

You swallow.

Your face is set in horror.

"It's not what it looks like—"

"Uh, dude, it totally is what it looks like—" Darcy starts, stepping closer to the board and pointing a black, manicured finger at a paparazzi photo of Loki being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower, "What's with all the Loki paraphernalia?! Need I post a lil' throwback Thursday to when he tried to kill us all?"

IT'S THURSDAY AGAIN.

You wince. "You wouldn't understand—"

Then, it happens.

The same thing you've experienced dozens upon dozens of times these last six months happens again: A rush of chatter in your mind, a cacophony of whispers that claw at your thoughts and flood them with has-beens and will-be's. A million things all at once, a little bit of everything from all of time, and then— one thread. One thread that stands out against them all. 

"Jane, don't."

Across the room, Jane's fingers pause on the contact number for that pretty S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they've met once or twice now — the one who is managing the Asgardian anomaly cases. With Loki missing, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been desperate to track him down. If this is a lead... If you know where he is...

Jane's face freezes.

Her brows knit.

Your face is split in panic. "I know you think calling Agent Hill is the right thing to do, but—"

"...How did you know I was...?" Jane's voice falls off, her eyes searching your face.

Your voice splinters as you step forward. "If you call Agent Hill, she is going to section our entire division within the week. Thor will be exiled from Earth on conspiracy four days later. We will sit in a cell for five years until they decide we have nothing to do with Loki's disappearance from Asgard."

Darcy's eyes bounce between you and Jane.

"Why are you saying all that like you know it's going to happen?" Jane asks slowly, putting her phone down and closing the gap between you. "Doc, what's going on?"

Your eyes flicker with fear. 

And then exhaustion. The walls you've built to keep this away from the others crumble with one worried look from Darcy, and you crumple against the kitchen counter. 

Your voice is far away.

"It all started that Thursday."

You thought it would be better now that someone knows. 

Truth be told it might be more trouble than it's worth if not to soothe the burden of secrecy — because Darcy keeps treating you like a Magic 8 Ball that, when shaken, is going to spit out readings on the future. 

It isn't that easy. I mean, if it was, you would have definitely done everything in your power to avoid the commute traffic this morning. 

You don't know why it happens. Or how. You have a theory it has something to do with Alioth, but... without any sort of control, there's no way of knowing. All you know is that in those moments, you're presented with a weave of potential sequences. And in those moments, you can choose to act. Or not. 

So far, acting seems to be the best course of action. 

But, yea, no. No fortune-cookie-level stuff. No crystal ball, no tarot cards. Just... weird time-whispers. And a migraine that seems to never go away. And dreams. Really vivid dreams. Dreams that happen? And dreams that don't.

If it was a horoscope sort of thing, maybe you wouldn't have missed your morning bus after waiting in line at that coffee shop three blocks down. They always make your coffee a little too bitter, but the girl behind the counter is an NYU grad student you recognized from a mechanical engineering lecture you sat in on three months ago. You've got a soft spot for her. She's always nice to that guy in the baseball cap who seems unhoused. 

You hope it all works out for her in the end. 

But, Christ this coffee is bitter. 

You buzz into Stark Labs at 9:37 am, and you're setting your stuff down at R&D by 9:43 am. 

Bruce Banner looks up briefly from his work to slide you a welcoming smile. You return it gently as you settle down on your stool and reacclimate yourself to last week's work. 

Mondays, man.

Tony is, as always, later than anyone else. His entrance is followed by the usual boisterous chatter meant as a morale booster. More often than not it's a genius-level comedy routine built on absolutely torturing Dr. Banner. You opt, more often than not, to refuse to enable the bad behavior. 

Any laughter is buried deep into these readings from the Tesseract. 

And so this has been home for the last four months. 

Avengers Tower. R&D. Erik Selvig's Research Team. Theoretical Physics and Quantum Mechanics. Day in, day out.

No TVA, no TemPads, no Sylvie, no Mobius, no Capybaras. 

...No Loki.

But, plenty of whispers. 

It rocks you out of your focus, iced latte halfway to your lips as you're rooted in this little pocket of voices and threads and whisps of time. There's a thousand, then a hundred, then one. 

Your voice is soft.

"Bruce, try the equation again."

From across the room, Tony's voice dies down and Bruce's eyes rise to meet yours. He points to himself, with a questioning raise of the brows.

You nod, then continue to take a sip of your coffee.

And so Bruce does. Wordlessly. And, after a minute, he looks up with a grin.

"So it was right."

"Woulda never known if Iron Dick over here didn't shut up for one second."

Tony's grin is bigger than Bruce's as he meanders over to your lab table and throws an arm around your shoulder. He squeezes you gently. You avoid his eye contact — and in doing so, you miss the momentary grace of concern. 

(Tony has known you for a few months now. He knows you adequately enough to gauge that your triple-shot espresso should have been a sextuple. The bags beneath your eyes are dark. There's an edge there. Something jumpy. You're exhausted.)

"Now, that was mean."

"You're torturing him," you fire back lightly, non-the-wiser to his scrutiny. 

"It's called exposure therapy—" Tony croons, leaning back and thumbing through some of the notes on your desk. You allow it. 

Good. Still sharp. Still better than anyone else at what you do. 

"Exposure to workplace terrorism?" You rib back with one cocked brow, "No offense, Bruce, but I like you better not green. Okay, Tony?"

"None taken!" Dr. Banner calls lightly from across the room. He's working on the second part of that equation now. 

"Sure, sure, alright, Doc," Tony heads your words, raising both hands and stepping back, "I guess someone hates fun."

"Absolutely," you say blankly, chewing your straw; you point at him, "No laughter."

"None," Tony waggles a finger.

"Not a peep," you remark causally as you spin in your stool and snag your pen from the drawer behind you. 

"Any news on the other green guy we hate?" Bruce asks slowly, eyes bouncing between you and Stark. 

Your blood goes a little cold. Just like always. It's hard not to react — especially when that other green guy is all you think about day and night.

WHEN YOU LOSE HIM YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET HIM BACK. 

You wordlessly shake your head. You shrug. Bruce turns to Stark. Tony is hunched over his bench. His words are a bit muffled by the soldering project he's turned his attention to. 

"None. According to Thor he just up and poofed. He was in the middle of atoning before the Buckingham of Asgard and... just warped on out."

So you've heard.

"Hill has been working every lead she can but... the Asgardians are a little touchy-feely on the whole 'earthlings in the domain of the Gods' thing."

"Understandable," you mutter absently.

Tony sits up. "Only time will tell."

...Indeed.

Home.

Unit 1131. 

Lonely.

It wasn't before all this... It was full to the brim with contentment. It was comfort, it was bliss. It was indulgent mornings slept beneath the covers and bright music in the kitchen. Cheap wine from the liquor shop on the corner and homemade meals. It was "I finally made it". 

Now, it's none of that.

Because he's out there — and you know that you don't belong here anymore.

You drop your bag by the door. 

Your boots follow in a trail. 

Sigurd mews expectantly, and you scoop him wordlessly into your arms as you weave through the chaos of papers and books. Your carpet is hidden beneath a layer of obsession masquerading as research.

But, there's one thing that pulls you back in each time.

It's that photo. 

The one Darcy had pointed at earlier.

Loki is being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower. He's looking back at something, and his expression is broken.

It's you.

You know he's pleading with Thor at that moment through a muzzle, desperate to call your name. He's looking at you, being whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. as they clear the area, and your voice is silenced by grief. 

You wish you had called out to him then — told him you'd find him again. 

Regret is a hell of a thing.

Grief, too. 

How do you mourn something you never really had? Not here, not in this timeline. 

So you stand there, in the dim lights of your apartment, staring at the photo. And you cry. Just like every night, for the last six months.

In your desk, that magical little daisy made of grass waits.

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

That's the mission.

Mobius M. Mobius thinks it's funny — back then, man if only he would have known that lil' hunch of his was right. Maybe a part of him did. And... Now? Things are different. I mean, everything is different. The TVA is different. 

Loki is different.

They say to be loved is to be changed an' all that. 

The first thing out of Loki's mouth was your name when Mobius finally saw him again — and then a word vomit of panic, induced by the death of He Who Remains and... time-slippage as OB called it. Lotsa moving parts. Lots to keep track of. But, ultimately, they're in a better spot than they were yesterday. 

1.) Loki is no longer falling through the metaphorical cracks in time. 

2.) Mobius did not get toasted alive when standing before The Loom.

3.) He never, ever, ever has to do that again.

And now!

They're in London. 

1977, huh. Zaniac. 

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

...Unless you find him first.

Loki isn't exactly thrilled. 

No, Loki knows better than to get his hopes up. Sylvie isn't here. He already told Mobius that. It's too safe. It's a damned movie premiere. There are no radiation burns, no falling stars, and no rampant gunfire. It's too quiet. 

It's a movie premiere and you're out there, somewhere, alone. You're... you're lost. He can't protect you here. He can't protect anything. You... You're all he has and you're gone. 

And he's here, wasting his damn time. 

Brad Wolfe is about to waste more of his time. 

Loki's gaze is sharp. His strides are long, and as they approach the fray, the God stands amongst the tallest of guests. He cuts a mean profile. It's times like these that Mobius remembers he is a God.

(It's times like these that Mobius can also see the ever-increasing edge in his partner-in-time. It's a little... worrisome. But understandable. I mean, rip a God's soulmate from his hands and see what happens, right?)

"So, he's an actor now?" Loki comments off-handedly, his irritation grating his heartstrings in a way that reminds him of who he was before all this. He hates it. But, he's angry. He will get you back. Without you...

Without you, he doesn't know what he'll do.

"Or he's undercover."

As they weave, Loki's brows knot in distrust. "Looks pretty real to me."

It smells like cigarettes and perfume, and the flashbulbs bite sharply into Loki's peripherals. The raven-haired trickster winces, tucking his hands into his slacks. 

On the red carpet, X-5 moves from interview to interview. Occasionally his laughter rises above the clamor. Each time, Loki's nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. 

It's when he reaches the end of the line that Mobius moves in. 

"Will there be a Zaniac Two?" 

The look on Brad's face says enough for Mobius to know there's more going on here than just an undercover bit. Brad's laugh, as equally pained as his smile, just cements the fact. 

"Mobius! Woah!" A clap on the shoulder, a big hug. "I used to work with this guy!"

Still a show. Still a weasel trying to survive on his little slice of time. 

"We're going to need to catch up," he begins, backing up slowly, "You know, why don't we chat after the show?"

"How about now, maybe?" Mobius counters just as Brad turns on his heel and comes face to face with Loki. 

The God sneers.

"Woah. Okay, ha, whole gangs here!" he chirps, "Isn't that... great? Wow. I mean, you look — you look great, Loki."

"Why thank you, Brad."

Brad's eyes are manic, and he's searching the crowd quickly — no doubt looking for an exit. Then, they catch something. When Brad claps his hands together and pats them on both Loki and Mobius' shoulders, the two TVA agents pause.

"Everything alright?" Loki asks, head tilting in faux concern.

"Everything is great, actually, because when I was here," he begins, words quick and anxious as he tries to weave some sort of story, "I met a mutual friend!"

"Sylvie?" Mobius asks tightly.

"No, no, uh, better—"

Loki's jaw tightens. Enough of this. "We have some mutual friends back at the TVA who would like a word, as well—"

"Doc!" calls Brad after finally finding her in the sea of people, turning on his heel and calling out over his shoulder, "I got people I need you to meet!"

And just like that, it's like Loki's whole world splits wide open again.

In the fray of photographers and journalists, in the fray of drinks and the haze of smoke, there's you. You're smiling at Brad, positively beaming. You're bright as a star and Gods, there's no one in the room when you step forward with a laugh.

Your dress is green. Your hair is different.

There's a beauty mark on your left cheek. His version of you has a scar that lies there. A mistimed gift from Sylvie before their period on Lamentis. 

"Doc, these are some of my friends from work," Brad points, his hand falling along your waist in a way that makes Loki's blood boil; the ex-TVA Hunter leans close to your cheek, "They're the real deal."

You laugh into your drink, then extend your hand to Mobius. He's trying his best to hide his growing dread. "It's a pleasure."

Mobius takes it and shakes it gently. "And how do you have the pleasure of knowing our starlet, Brad?"

Damn it. He's losing Loki in real time here.

"Doc here did all the practical effects on set for Zaniac," Brad's eyes connect with Loki's — but the God is focused on only you... Her. Until Wolfe digs in with a low murmur meant to do just what it does, "She's a real wiz with her hands."

The God's face snaps. He will kill Brad, he decides. But, then this other-you moves to offer her hand and he can't help but melt. 

His fingers are trembling when he touches her skin. 

"Have we met before?" comes the soft lilt of her voice — this Variant's eyes are brown. They search Loki's face for a shred of recognition but all that's there between the two of them is raw attraction. A law of time and space unhindered by meddling hands. No matter where, no matter when, you will find one another.

Loki's mouth is dry. Your lipstick shade is a dark rogue. He thinks about that kiss back in the Void. He's stuck there, with your hand in his, when Brad bolts.

Her face contorts in confusion. She pulls away. But, Loki lingers. 

He has to... He...

He needs you back. 

Now. 

[serving-saucy-fanfics]

MCU Loki Masterlist

Icy Pleasures with a Hint of Warmth (Kinktober Day 10: Ice Play, the smut can be avoided) /AO3

[mochie85]

Hi, could I have some Loki comfort please? My grandma is dieing and I just really need some comfort right now

Lightyears

One-Shots Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki comforts you in your time of need. Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader Word Count: 694 Warnings: Angst, mentions of a loved one dying, grief, and comfort. A/N: I hope these words help you, my darling Nonny. I didn't tag anyone in this because I wrote this for you. I hope that this finds you. And if you ever need to talk, my DM's are always open. And big thanks to @lokisgoodgirl @michelleleewise @springdandelixn for proofing.

Loki sat in the waiting room with a book in his hand. He read over the same sentence a couple more times before he looked back up and watched the door.

He’s waited for you for over an hour now. He didn’t want to rush you. He knew you would want to take your time.

You had been so busy lately with your job and the everyday logistics of saving the world. In fairness, he took up most of your time too.

When you got a call from your mother earlier this afternoon, it was like time had gone completely still for you. And suddenly, there wasn’t any left.

He knew how close you were to your grandmother. How she took care of you and your siblings growing up. All the meals and traditions she had passed down to you that Loki was honored that you shared with him. He has never met your family and he knew this wasn’t the most agreeable circumstance, but he wanted to be here for you. Anyone who raised such an amazing person as yourself must’ve been incredible in their own right.

“Loki?” you whispered into the empty room. “What are you still doing here? You should go home and get some rest.”

“Dear heart. I didn’t hear you come in.” Loki sprang up to greet you. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your voice had gone raspy and tired. You were carrying an old hatbox of photos that you clung close to your chest.

“I was just going to put these in the car and maybe get something to eat.”

“Would you like some company?” he offered.

“You should go home, babe. There’s not much to do here anymore. Mom says we’re just saying goodb-” you broke down sobbing.

Loki took the hatbox from you and laid it down as you covered your mouth. You tried to hold in your sobs. The pain in your chest was devastating and it consumed your very being.

All Loki could do was put his arms around you and hold you. Your tears soaked his shirt as he rubbed comforting circles on your back. He listened to you cry and sniffle. He heard every painful breath and every anguished sigh.

When you had calmed down, he led you to sit next to him on one of the couches. “Did you know that Asgard is roughly 3 million light years away from Midgard?” Loki started.

You looked into his eyes, and he almost broke down crying himself at the sight of you. “So if you were to look through a powerful telescope, pointing at Asgard, you would only see how Asgard was 3 million lightyears ago,” he continued as he cupped your cheek.

“The same goes if you were to stand on the Bifrost and look toward Midgard. Well- without the aid of Heimdall, of course, damn bloke sees everything!” His quip made you laugh and brought a smile to his face. “If you stand on any other planet looking down to Earth, you can see any point in time in the history of your planet.

“They would only see the past. And in one of those planets- in one of those points in time, they would probably see your grandmother alive and well.”

Your eyes had gone wide with wonder. “She will always be alive. She will always help you cook. She will be there raising you and your siblings. She will always be there for you, my love. She will never really go away.”

You leaped into his arms and hugged him tightly. His words brought you strength and soothed the withering ache that was settling in your heart.

“Thank you, Loki.”

“Always, my darling,” he said in the crook of your neck as he held you tightly.

The rest of the night was spent eating takeout on your apartment floor as you shared the photos with him from the old hatbox.

One by one, you had placed them carefully into photo albums, reliving old memories and entertaining Loki with stories from some very colorful photos, as if you were on some far-off planet, looking back at the history of your grandmother.