#loki x reader angst
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maeintree · 16 days ago
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the crown keeps moving ₊˚⊹ ── l. laufeyson
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when the heir to asgard starts pulling away, old tensions resurface. he's not ready. his father doesn’t care. and the crown keeps moving forward, with or without him.
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pairing/s: loki x queen!reader (established) warnings: canon divergence (loki becomes king by abdication of thor), heavy dialogue, political intrigue, father-son conflict, royal court drama, legacy angst, arranged marriage, crown tension, jötunn lore, power imbalance, sharp language, emotional hurt/comfort author's note: i've been out of writing for so long because of so much stuff happening and i honestly just stopped because i felt insecure of how i wrote. but now, i really don't care. i hope to whoever this comes up to you, you enjoy it. xx. w/c: 6.4k
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This was usually a shot in the dark.
Heimdall couldn’t (or, wouldn’t) find him. That alone said enough.
Your son had never been particularly fond of authority, least of all yours. And with Loki now seated on the throne after a stunning display of diplomacy and deceit that neither you nor the council had managed to fully unravel, your son had become increasingly difficult to track.
The boy was slipping. No, not slipping—choosing.
And now he was here. On Midgard.
You stepped over a gutter, already regretting the decision to wear these so-called boots—thick-soled, clunky things that trapped heat and bent your gait into something unnatural. The jeans itched at the seams. You missed your robes, your leathers. You missed breathing air that wasn’t full of fried meat and synthetic perfume and rubber.
You hated Midgard.
It wasn’t a realm. It was a mess. Everything was buzzing or blinking or yelling. There was no silence. No grace. No reverence for anything except money and men who exploded things for sport.
Maybe you just hated.. New York. 
But your son loved it. Or rather, he loved what he could be here. 
No expectations. No legacy trailing behind him. No one whispering his name like a question mark at the end of a bloodline.
Just a boy with magic in his veins and his father’s grin on his face. Free to disappear into the back rooms of smoke-filled clubs, or charm his way into the penthouses of politicians’ daughters, or start bar fights with rednecks who didn’t know any better.
He wasn’t here to learn. He wasn’t here to grow. He was here to feel. To touch. To indulge. And maybe to have more bastards than you might admit. 
You paused outside a building with red lighting in the windows. Music pulsed faintly from beneath its foundation, bass-heavy, numbing. A line of mortals waited to get inside, their bodies exposed to the night air in scraps of sequins and synthetic fabric. Why do they torture themselves like this? 
You felt eyes on you. The kind of stare that wasn’t admiration or threat, but confusion. You didn’t look like them. Not exactly. Your hair was too neat. Your posture too straight. Your face too still.
You ignored the stares.
He’d be somewhere like this. Not the popular clubs, not the polished, glossy rooftops the Avengers flocked to after a long day of “saving the world.” He’d go underground. Where there were shadows and soft mouths and quick hands. Somewhere he could vanish into sex and smoke and pretend, for a night, that he didn’t come from anything at all.
And the worst part?
You understood.
That’s what made it difficult. You understood the hunger he had, for anonymity, for freedom, for pleasure. For the kind of recklessness Loki had once worn like a cloak.
He was his father’s son.
Which meant he was not safe.
You glanced up.
No signage. No symbols. Just the thump of bass bleeding through brick, and a bouncer standing with arms crossed, watching you like he couldn’t decide whether to flirt or run.
You stepped forward, your chin lifting slightly. Composed. Unbothered by the sweat-thick heat rolling from the doors behind him.
“I’m looking for someone,” you said, calm, clipped, exact.
The bouncer didn’t even look up at first. “Yeah? So’s everybody. Keep it movin’, lady.”
You didn’t blink. “He’ll be the only one in there who doesn’t want to be found.”
That made him pause. Just for a second. Like the words hit somewhere deeper than he meant to let show.
He looked up at you fully then, brow raised. “You one of those?” 
You didn’t answer. Just stepped forward.
The bouncer leaned back, gave a low whistle through his teeth.
“Vali’s at the whorehouse,” he muttered, half amused, half pitying. “Good luck with that one.”
The heat hit first—humid, sticky, and loud.
Inside, the place was packed. Bodies everywhere. Sweat in the air. Music so loud it rattled in your chest, something electronic with a pop hook you couldn’t make out over the bass.
Strobe lights flashed hard and fast, cutting across the crowd like searchlights. Everyone was dancing, or grinding, or too drunk to know the difference.
From behind you, someone shouted—
“Hey, why does she get to go in? What about us?”
And somewhere in this chaos, your son was doing exactly what you feared.
Why on earth did you let Loki stay with him again? 
You stared at the clock on the club’s wall like it might start making sense if you glared hard enough.
It didn’t.
Some blinking digital mess of numbers—1:42 apparently—glowed red against fake wood paneling. 
You muttered under your breath, tugged the strap of your ridiculous “watch” one last time, and walked.
The hallway was dim, walls covered in fake velvet. A man at the end—some kind of bouncer—held up a hand. How many “bouncers” does this place need?
“Ma’am, those rooms are—”
You looked him in the eye, already too tired to argue.
He blinked once, stumbled slightly, then stepped aside like he’d changed his mind mid-thought.
You walked past.
The first door you opened, someone shrieked and threw a bottle. The second, there was too much movement to bother explaining. You closed it quickly.
By the time you reached the last room, you already knew.
The air reeked. The bass of some Midgardian music pulsed through the walls like a heartbeat in heat. You didn’t hesitate. No knocking. No warning.
You just turned the handle and walked in.
And there he was.
Váli.
Stretched carelessly across a bed that wasn’t his, like he owned the whole fucking building.
The sheet was tangled loosely around his hips—barely. His torso was exposed, pale skin marbled with shadow where the streetlight bled in through the half-open blinds. Muscle carved sharp across his shoulders, his abdomen lean, his collarbones dusted with faint blue veins like old ink. Scars dotted his left side—quiet things, healed-over and half-forgotten.
His arm was slung across his face, as if the light offended him. One leg hung off the edge of the bed, foot bare, the other bent at the knee. He looked like someone trying not to care.
And failing.
His raven-dark hair was a little longer than the last time you'd seen him. Mussed. A curl clung to his jaw.
Beside him, a girl sat up fast. Mascara smeared under her eyes, mouth still swollen from kissing. The sheet clutched to her chest like it could somehow shield her from the reality walking through the door.
“Who the fuck are you?” she snapped.
You didn’t look at her. You barely even blinked.
You reached—not for a weapon, not yet—but for the thread of seidr beneath your skin. It answered like breath to lungs, like it had been waiting.
The Midgardian clothes disappeared in a shimmer of silver and frost. The turtleneck, the jeans—they folded into nothing. Replaced by your leathers—Asgardian black, panel-stitched and trimmed in deep green, light but regal, sharp at the waist. The vambraces coiled up your arms. The air around you cooled a fraction. 
That felt amazing.
The girl gasped, grabbing her garments.
She didn’t argue. No one ever really did. She scrambled out without shoes.
Silence fell.
Váli finally moved, dragging his arm off his face.
And when he saw you, he blinked once. Not in shock—no, he was never that foolish—but in quiet, biting realization.
“Mother,” he said dryly, voice still sleep-hoarse. “What a surprise.”
You looked at your son. He still hadn’t moved. Just looked and squinted at you like you were interrupting something boring.
“Usually,” you said, stepping closer, “your father is the one who comes to collect you. And yet. Here I am.”
He didn’t reply.
You exhaled, short and sharp. “Thor returned from Vanaheim tonight.”
That got him to sit up, slowly, the sheet gathering around his hips.
“And?” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.
“And,” you snapped, “Asgard is watching. Everyone is watching. And where is the heir? Where is the prince?”
You gestured around the room. It didn’t need explaining—used glasses, a wine bottle on its side, a discarded bra near the wall.
“Here,” you finished. “Sweating through mortal linen and pretending he’s not some god.”
His jaw flexed, but he didn’t speak. You kept going.
“There are more than enough brothels in Asgard. If that’s all you came for—fine. We have them. Discreet ones. Ones that don’t smell like damp carpet and desperation.”
He looked up at you, face unreadable. “I didn’t come here for sex.”
You stared at him for a beat.
“Then what?” you asked, voice low. “What is it this time? What exactly is so impossible about being home while your uncle—who hasn’t stepped foot in the golden city in two centuries—is welcomed back like a son? What’s so hard about being present for five hours of your immortal life?”
He looked away.
You stepped closer. “I had to leave a council meeting. I had to lie. And do you want to know the worst part?”
He didn’t respond.
You leaned in. “No one was surprised you weren’t there.”
That landed. His shoulders shifted, eyes falling to the floor.
You straightened. “Get dressed. You’ve got less than an hour. We’re leaving before dawn.”
You turned, hand already on the door.
“Why didn’t Father come?” he asked quietly.
You stopped.
“Because he’s king now,” you said. “And unlike you, he showed up for it.”
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The flash of the Bifrost faded behind your heels, and the wind of Asgard hit your face like a balm—clean, thin, cold. A realm that remembered how to breathe properly. Finally.
Heimdall stood at the bridge, hands behind his back, gaze already locked on yours. Too calm. Too unreadable.
“Welcome back, My Queen,” he said, nodding. “And Prince Váli.”
Váli brushed past you in silence, walking ahead with the practiced indifference of someone who knew every eye was on him and chose not to care.
You didn’t follow immediately. You stepped toward Heimdall, kept your voice low, sharp.
“I don’t know what bet you two have,” you said, voice even but unmistakably sharp. “But I am your queen, Heimdall. And the next time my son disappears for two weeks and you conveniently can’t see him? You will tell me where he is.”
Heimdall’s jaw ticked. “It will not happen again, Your Majesty.”
You watched him for a beat longer, until his eyes dropped—just slightly—in guilt.
Then you turned and walked.
The palace doors opened before you like breath held too long. The guards lining the hall immediately dropped to one knee, hands over chests.
“My Queen. Prince Váli.”
The echo of your steps stretched across the floor like a quiet warning. Váli didn’t respond, didn’t even glance at them. You could feel the tension coming off him in waves.
You didn’t break stride. Through the gold doors and into the private dining room.
And there they were.
Loki lounged at the end of the table, a half-finished plate in front of him, sipping something dark from a silver cup. Your daughter—Idunn—sat beside him, legs tucked beneath her, a basket of sewing in her lap. Her fingers moved through green silk like it was second nature.
She looked up first.
“Ah,” she said with a grin. “Come back from Midgard, older brother? Did you have fun?”
Váli stopped walking.
His jaw clenched. “Fuck off.”
“Mind your tone,” you said calmly, without looking at him.
“Not in front of your sister,” Loki added lightly, not bothering to look up from his plate. “We do try to set a baseline of civility in this house.”
Váli ignored both of you, stepping around the table and dragging out a chair farthest from them all. He dropped into it like the weight of the Bifrost still clung to his boots.
Idunn raised a brow. “That bad?”
“Idunn,” you warned.
She held up her hands. “I’m just saying. He looks like he fell in a river.”
“I look fine,” Váli muttered, stabbing a piece of bread off a plate he hadn’t been invited to.
Loki finally looked up.
His eyes flicked to you, then to his son. “Were you difficult?”
Váli didn’t answer.
Loki sighed and set down his cup. “You know, when I vanished, it was at least interesting. You? You vanish and get caught in some back alley with mortals and no shoes on. Where’s the art in that?”
Váli glared at him. “Did you bring me back just to mock me?”
“Mock?” Loki echoed, mockingly. “Never. I’m concerned. That you’ve turned out so—” Loki chuckles “—predictable.”
“Enough.” You cut in before Váli could rise from his chair. “I didn’t drag him back for theatre.”
Loki tilted his head, then looked at Váli again—longer this time. “Thor’s here.”
Váli scoffed. “Great.”
“Try again,” you said.
“Great,” Váli repeated, flatter.
Idunn bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
Loki smirked, but it faded. “He asked about you. I told him you were… busy.”
“I was,” Váli said dryly. “Midgard’s women don’t seem to get bored.”
“Váli,” you said.
“No, let him talk,” Loki replied, voice still light but eyes harder now. “Let’s see how far the prince can dig.”
Váli shoved his chair back, standing. “You want to scold me? Fine. Scold me. Just stop pretending you care when all you really want is a puppet that behaves.”
Loki stood too, not quickly, but with purpose. “You think I don’t care? I know exactly what it’s like to have no one expect better of you. I’m trying to do better with you.”
“By humiliating me?”
“No,” Loki said, voice low now. “By not letting you rot. By making sure you don’t become what they always said I was.”
There was a pause.
Then Váli muttered, “Too late,” and turned for the door.
You caught his arm before he could pass.
“No.”
He stopped.
Your voice was calm. Quiet. But final.
“You don’t get to walk out. Not from me. Not from your father. Not from this.”
He didn’t look at you, but he didn’t pull away either.
“Sit,” you said.
And slowly, he did.
Loki watched you both, then sat again himself. Idunn went back to her sewing like nothing had happened.
The door creaked open before anyone could speak again, and you didn’t have to look to know who it was.
“Is that my favorite niece I hear giggling like a brook?” came Thor’s voice, loud and warm and far too cheery for the hour.
He was through the door in seconds—broader than ever, hair longer now and tied back in thick braids that swung over his shoulders as he strode in like a storm in summer. His armor was still dusted with Vanaheim soil, and the faint clink of his greaves echoed through the chamber like a heartbeat.
Idunn squealed with delight.
“Uncle Thor!”
She tossed her embroidery aside and ran to him. He didn’t hesitate—just scooped her into his arms and spun her around once, twice, her laughter ringing through the hall like music. Her feet barely hit the floor before she was tugging something from behind her ear.
“A flower crown,” she grinned, pulling a half-woven loop of pale yellow and green from her sewing basket. “It’s not finished, but you need something ridiculous.”
Thor laughed, huge and unbothered. “I am honored,” he said, bowing low as she placed it over his braids. It sat askew, too small for his head, but he wore it like a circlet of gold.
Loki looked like he might roll his eyes into the next realm.
“Váli,” Thor said, turning now, that same grin stretching across his face. “Still brooding, are we?”
Váli gave a sharp, reluctant nod of respect. “Uncle.”
“Why so uptight, hm?” Thor asked, walking to the table and clapping a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You look like someone told you the ale’s been watered down.”
“It has,” Loki murmured into his cup.
Thor chuckled, then looked between you all. “What’s happened? You all look like a trial just ended.”
You exhaled through your nose and sat again, not quite bothering to hide the weight in your posture. “He disappeared for two weeks on Midgard. Slipped Heimdall’s sight. Ended up in a brothel.”
Váli snapped upright, incredulous. “Really? Tell the entire nine realms, why don’t you?”
Thor’s hand dropped from his shoulder.
Loki sipped again, entirely unfazed. “She did.”
You looked at Váli calmly. “If you wanted it kept quiet, you should’ve kept yourself quiet.”
Idunn had taken her seat again but was watching intently now, the flower thread forgotten in her lap.
Váli muttered under his breath, “I didn’t ask to be dragged back like a criminal.”
“You’re not a criminal,” you said. “You’re a prince. Which makes this worse.”
Thor cleared his throat. “Is... this what I walked into, then?”
“Yes,” Loki said.
“No,” you said at the same time.
Thor blinked, slightly lost. “Should I—?”
“Sit down,” you told him gently.
He obeyed, flower crown still crooked, braid catching in the back of the chair.
Silence fell again—less tense now, more awkward. Thor cleared his throat.
“Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “At least he’s back.”
“Mm,” you hummed. “For now.”
Váli didn’t say anything.
Thor had just finished gnawing on a heel of bread when Loki finally set his cup down.
“Well,” he said, drawing out the word. “There’s a feast in the works. The kitchens are full, the halls are being set, and apparently the musicians are rehearsing in the West Courtyard. All in honor of our prodigal brother’s return.”
Thor grinned. “You didn’t have to do that, brother.”
“I did,” Loki said. “It was the only way to keep the council from making you sit through three hours of policy updates on..” A sigh comes out. “Vanaheim trade routes.”
Thor laughed. “A feast is the better torture, I’ll admit.”
Loki tilted his head, that quiet, long-smile playing at his mouth. “A king suits you well, brother.”
“And you,” Thor said, catching his gaze across the table, “wear it more easily than I ever could’ve imagined.”
Loki raised a brow—and flicked a peanut at him.
Thor caught it in his mouth midair without blinking.
Idunn clapped her hands once. “Again!”
Loki ignored her. “We’ll eat in the eastern wing tonight. I want the royal court in green, nothing too stiff. We aren’t parading, we’re celebrating.”
You were already rising from your seat. “I’ll have my attendants meet us in the antechamber.”
Thor stood too. “I should see to my men.”
Idunn followed, pulling the tangled threads of her sewing basket into her arms. “If there’s music, I want to pick it.”
“You may,” Loki said, already waving her off, “if it’s not tragic and doesn’t last nine minutes per movement.”
You touched Váli’s shoulder lightly as you passed. “Come. We need to—”
“No,” Loki said, suddenly.
You stopped mid-step.
“He stays,” Loki said, voice even. “I’d like a moment with my son.”
You met his eyes—calm, unreadable—and after a beat, gave a small nod. Then turned and walked out with the others.
“Come now, my love,” you said gently, reaching for your daughter’s hand. “Shall we braid your hair—”
Your voice softened into a murmur just as the guards closed the door behind you.
Váli didn’t move, slouching in his chair, one leg lazily crossed. “So,” he muttered, “we’re doing the fatherly wisdom thing now?”
Loki didn’t answer.
He turned toward the servants at the edge of the room. “The tea,” he said. “Leave it. Then go.”
The servants bowed, placed the silver tray down, and slipped out without a sound.
The room was quiet again.
Loki took his time, pouring the tea into two matching cups.
“Sit properly,” he said without looking up.
Váli sighed dramatically and leaned forward.
Loki passed him the cup. “Drink it.”
“I’m not poisoned, you know.”
“If I wanted you dead, Váli,” Loki said with a dry smile, “you wouldn’t wake up in a brothel.”
That shut him up—for a second.
Loki settled back in his chair, watching him. “You need to stop stressing your mother out.”
“She’s fine.”
“She is not,” Loki said, sharper now. “And frankly, neither am I.”
Váli scoffed. “It was two weeks. I’m not a child.”
“No,” Loki agreed, “you are not. You are a prince. And despite your best efforts to behave like a stray cat with a drinking habit, you are being watched.”
Váli drank his tea, not looking at him. “Then maybe stop watching.”
“I don’t watch because I have to,” Loki said. “I watch because I know. I know what it’s like to vanish into the underbelly of a realm that doesn’t love you. I know what it’s like to think that pleasure will fill the void. But you are not me. You were raised in a palace, by two parents who did not lie about where you came from.”
“Must be nice,” Váli muttered.
“It was meant to be,” Loki said, more quiet now. “But you’ve taken that gift and twisted it into entitlement. If you want to run, then run. But do not expect silence when you return.”
Váli tapped the rim of his cup with his nail. “So, what, this is a royal guilt trip?”
“This is a royal warning,” Loki said. “You are not a boy anymore. If you want to disappear, I will let you. But next time you crawl back, do not expect your mother to find you before I do.”
Váli glanced up at that.
Loki leaned forward slightly.
“Do not think me soft, simply because I became a better man than the one who made me.”
Silence. The kind that weighed.
Váli finally looked down, quieter now. “It wasn’t just for fun.”
Loki didn’t blink. “What was it, then?”
“I don’t know,” Váli admitted. “I felt... restless. Like everything here is already decided for me. And Midgard... doesn’t care.”
“No,” Loki said, “it doesn’t. And that is not freedom. That is apathy.”
Váli didn’t respond.
Loki stood.
“We feast tonight,” he said, turning toward the window. “Show up like a prince, or don’t show up at all.”
He paused. “And cut your hair. You’re starting to look like your uncle.”
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The feast was already underway when Váli reentered the great hall.
He stood in the archway for a moment, newly shorn hair brushing just under his ears, still damp from a rushed rinse. He was in his court tunic—green, like his father’s—and his boots had actually been polished. He looked younger without the length. Less wild. But also less certain of himself.
You spotted him instantly.
And your mouth tightened.
“What did you do to your hair?”
He walked past you without answering.
You didn’t let him get far. “Váli.”
He stopped, shoulders raised slightly like he already regretted coming back.
You stepped in front of him. “You didn’t need to listen to him. It was a jest.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
You looked at him harder. “You are not here to mirror anyone, least of all to prove something.”
“I’m here,” he said simply, “and I’m dressed. Isn’t that enough?”
He walked off before you could reply.
Behind you, the great doors thundered open again, and the crowd erupted into cheers.
You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
Loki entered in his full regalia—robes cut in black and green, embroidered with gold threads so fine they caught the firelight like stars. His hair, usually left loose past his shoulders, was pulled back now into a neat knot, sharp and deliberate. The crown rested just above the bun, black metal woven with emerald detailing, not overly ornate, but unmistakable.
A king’s crown.
You stared at him from across the hall.
He walked toward you slowly, face calm, the weight of the room moving with him like gravity. Everyone was watching. Fandral, Volstagg, and the rest were already halfway into their cups, roaring about boar and song, but Loki's eyes were only on you.
“You let him cut it?” you asked quietly when he reached you.
“It was warm,” he said simply. “And I thought it might be nice to see his ears again.”
You stared at him.
“Don’t encourage him,” you said under your breath, glancing toward Váli across the room.
“I told him to cut it, not butcher it,” Loki muttered back, dry. “He took it as a divine command.”
You shook your head. “You are—”
“—remarkably attractive this evening?” he offered, smiling sideways.
You opened your mouth, ready to scold, but the look in his eyes made it falter. He wasn’t teasing—not entirely. The compliment was quiet, meant only for you.
Your gown shimmered in the torchlight—deep green velvet, your hair wound up in thin braids woven through with small silver fastenings. You’d worn your formal cuffs, too—symbols of your house, of your station. You looked every bit the queen you didn’t always have time to be.
Loki reached for your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “You are... breathtaking.”
Before you could respond, Idunn reappeared between you.
“Ugh,” she said loudly. “Do you two have to be like this in public?”
You gave her a pointed look. “You’re not even supposed to be here. You should’ve stayed seated until—”
But she was already gone—darting off toward Thor, who caught her mid-run and swung her into the air again like she weighed nothing.
Loki let out a sigh through his nose. “At least one of our children knows how to enjoy a party.”
You turned toward Váli.
He hadn’t moved.
He sat near the end of the long table, posture too straight, fingers locked loosely around a goblet he hadn’t touched. Around him, Fandral was laughing loudly, red-faced, throwing back more ale while regaling someone with a tale that probably wasn’t true. Across from him, Hogun was nodding along, uninterested but polite.
Váli looked like he wasn’t even in the room.
You touched Loki’s arm. “He’s not well.”
“I know.”
“He’s trying.”
“I know that, too.”
“You could—”
“I am trying,” Loki said quietly, eyes still on him. “More than anyone ever tried for me.”
You both watched him for a moment longer.
Then Loki turned to the crowd, raised a hand, and the music swelled.
“Eat, drink, sing,” he called, voice carrying across the stone and silk. “Tonight, we are together. And that alone is reason to celebrate.”
The cheers answered back instantly, mugs raised and voices loud.
But Váli didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Just sat there, while the world turned and the hall roared with life around him.
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The hall outside your chambers was quiet now. The feast had died down hours ago. Even the laughter from the guards had faded into soft murmurs and echoing footsteps. It was the kind of silence you only got after wine, music, and exhaustion had finally let go of the palace.
Inside, Idunn was already fast asleep—curled up across the wide settee with one arm dangling off the edge, still half in her formal gown, her hair coming undone in tangled braids. You tucked a blanket around her shoulders, brushed a strand off her cheek.
“She didn’t even try,” you muttered, softly amused.
“She never does,” came Loki’s voice behind you. “Just like her mother.”
You left the room quiet, stepping into the adjoining chambers, where the wind from the open balcony fluttered through sheer curtains.
Váli stood outside alone, leaning on the edge of the stone balustrade, the dark sky washing his face pale blue. He wasn’t moving. Not in the way someone watched stars or took in the view. He was just there. Still. Contained.
You didn’t call to him.
You let him have it—whatever silence he needed.
You crossed to the opposite side of the room, into the cool air, standing near the open window. The sky stretched endlessly in front of you. Silver clouds. Thin stars.
The fabric of your nightgown shifted as Loki came up behind you, quiet as always. His hands slipped around your waist before you heard him speak. The way he touched you was slow—deliberate. Not rushed. Not playful. Familiar.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured into the curve of your shoulder. “Gods, I’ve been so busy.”
You felt his lips graze your skin—your shoulder, then up the side of your neck. His breath warmed your jaw.
“So busy,” he whispered. “From my queen.”
His hand slid lower, over the soft folds of your gown and down toward your thigh.
You reached back to stop him—gently—and turned your head just enough to catch his lips in a quiet, searching kiss.
When you pulled away, you kept your voice low.
“It’s time, isn’t it?”
Loki rested his forehead against yours.
There was a pause. Then a sigh.
“Thor spoke with me after the feast,” he said. “Vanaheim is... getting louder. Their nobles want assurance. One daughter. Eight brothers. No marriage alliance. It’s starting to look like an insult.”
You nodded once.
“And how exactly do we explain giving up our daughter to settle a kingdom’s temper?”
Loki drew in a slow breath. “We don’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“We shift focus.”
You stiffened slightly, pulling back enough to look at him.
He hesitated.
Then: “Váli.”
“No,” you said immediately, stepping away from his arms. “No. Loki, no.”
“Just listen—”
“He won’t do it,” you said. “He won’t.”
“He might.”
“He won’t.”
Loki’s voice stayed calm. “They’re asking for strength. They’ll respect bloodline, not temperament. And he’s still—”
“He’s barely holding together now,” you snapped. “You want to throw him into a marriage with a woman he doesn’t know, to keep Vanaheim calm? He can barely be in the same room with Thor without looking like he wants to disappear.”
“I know that,” Loki said. “But if it’s not him—”
“It’s not Idunn,” you said sharply, then quieter. “She’s too young. And too... her. She doesn’t know how to navigate court. She still talks to her embroidery, and Thor.."
“I know,” Loki said again, slower this time. “Which is why it has to be Váli.”
You exhaled, hard.
“And what happens when he finds out we’ve been discussing it without him?”
“He’ll hate it,” Loki said simply.
You turned to him. “And you’re fine with that?”
“No,” he said. “But I’m king. I don’t have the luxury of waiting for everyone to feel ready.”
The wind pushed against the curtains again.
Out on the balcony, Váli hadn’t moved.
“He’s not going to agree to this,” you said. “You know that.”
Loki walked toward you again, quieter now.
“He doesn’t have to agree,” he said. “He just has to show up.”
You stared at him for a long time.
Then whispered, “You sound like your father.”
Loki flinched. It wasn’t a wound, but it hit.
“I’m trying not to be,” he said softly. “I’m trying.”
You looked away again, out into the sky. The stars were still there. Distant. Quiet.
“How long do we have?”
“A week,” he said. “Maybe less.”
You exhaled.
And then, more quietly: “He’ll never forgive us.”
Loki stepped beside you, hand resting lightly against your back.
“No,” he said. “But maybe he’ll survive it.”
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The council chamber was colder in the morning.
No fire. No wine. No servants. No distractions.
Just the two of you, adding to one. Who is currently late.
You stood near the long table, dressed in muted green court robes, your hands folded calmly even as your jaw clenched.
Loki sat at the head, crown already in place, dark robes tailored sharp as glass. His expression was unreadable. Controlled. As always.
The door opened with a dull thud.
Váli entered with slow steps, still tugging on the sleeve of his tunic. His jaw was tight, eyes a little bloodshot. He strided in confidently.
“Really?” he muttered, glancing around. “The council chamber? This feels dramatic.”
“Sit,” Loki said.
“I’d rather stand,” Váli replied without pause.
Loki didn’t blink. “It wasn’t a request.”
Váli gave a half-laugh, dry. “Oh, we’re doing that today.”
You took a breath, stepping forward slightly. “We brought you here because this isn’t something to discuss in front of others. This isn’t—”
“Let me guess,” Váli cut in. “Some realm needs a favor, some old king has a daughter, and now I’m the solution. I marry her, there’s a feast, some empty promises, and everyone’s happy.”
He continues. "Isn't this Idunn's job?"
"Do not speak ill of your sister, Váli." Loki grunts.
You hesitated. Just for a second.
That was enough.
He laughed once—ugly. Bitter.
“Oh, you’re kidding,” he said. “That’s really it? That’s why you came to Midgard yourself? Not because I was missing. Not because I could’ve been dead in a ditch. You dragged me out of that realm because I’ve got just the right face to whore out for political stability?”
“Watch your tongue,” Loki said sharply.
But Váli didn’t stop.
“No wonder you didn’t send guards,” he spat. “Would’ve been too cold. And you—” he turned to you suddenly, voice rising, “you woke me like you missed me. Like you gave a shit. The whole time, this was it?”
You took a step toward him. “Váli, that is enough—”
“No, it’s not,” he shouted. “Because this is a fucking pattern. I vanish for two weeks and you show up when it’s convenient. You don’t come to find me. You come to use me.”
“You will not speak to her that way,” Loki said, rising to his feet.
Váli turned on him. “Why not? You do.”
The words hit.
Your breath caught. Loki’s face didn’t change—but something shifted in the air.
“What did you say?” he said, voice low, tight.
“You treat her like she’s a piece of this fucking palace,” Váli snapped. “Something that serves a purpose. Like me. Like Idunn. You think that crown gives you the right to decide where we go, who we become—”
“I am your king,” Loki roared, stepping forward now, voice thunder through stone. “And she is your queen. You will not speak to us this way.”
Váli didn’t back down.
“No,” he growled. “You’re my father, and you barely know how to be that. You sit on that throne and pretend this family’s not breaking while you talk about strategy and bloodlines and positioning like it’s not tearing everyone apart.”
“You are not a victim,” Loki snapped, voice edged and rising. “You are not some lost boy wandering the woods, Váli. You are a prince. Spoken of in halls you’ve never even seen. You carry a name carved in realms beyond this one. Do you really believe this life is a punishment?”
Váli didn’t flinch. His jaw clenched. “It’s a fucking cage.”
Loki’s gaze turned cold. “It is a birthright.”
“Then you can have it,” Váli shouted, stepping forward, fire catching in his chest. “You wanted it so badly, didn’t you? The crown, the throne, the halls and titles—you burned the world for it. So take mine. Add it to yours. Wear both.”
Loki froze. For half a breath, the room stilled with him.
Then, lower—quieter, but far more dangerous:
“You think I wanted this?” he said. “Do not speak of crowns as if they are gifts. I bled for what I have. I was cast out for it. Mocked. Used.”
Váli shook his head, eyes sharp. “And now you do the same to me.”
“I am your father.”
“Then listen to me.”
They stood across from each other, fire and frost locked between them.
Loki’s stare didn’t break.
But Váli pressed forward, bitter now, his voice thinner, tighter: “You don’t listen. You never have. You speak like a king, but you hear nothing. You sit on a throne you once called a lie—and now you pass it on to me like it’s some kind of honor.”
“I am trying,” Loki said, low and steady, “to prepare you for what comes next.”
“No,” Váli cut in. “You’re preparing me to be you.”
There was a pause. Thick. Loaded.
And then—sharp and deliberate:
“You’re a coward.”
The word hit like iron.
Loki didn’t react. Not outwardly. Not a twitch. But behind his eyes, something shuttered. Quietly, violently.
Váli wasn’t finished.
“You always have been,” he said. “You ran from Odin. You lied to Mother." He chuckles bitterly, gesturing to you.
"You tore through realms because you couldn’t bear being smaller than Thor. You want me to inherit a throne, but the truth is—” he laughed once, bitter and breathless, “—you’ve never worn one without looking like it might swallow you whole.”
Still, Loki didn’t yell. Didn’t rise. He turned, slowly, walking to the tall window lining the council chamber, the silence deafening in his wake.
“I came here to speak with my son,” he said at last, voice calm and terrifying. “Instead I found a boy pretending to be a man.”
Váli’s chest heaved. His hands were clenched. But he didn’t speak.
And Loki didn’t turn.
“Leave, if that’s what you want.”
Silence.
“Go ahead.”
But Váli didn’t move.
Not yet.
That was when you stepped between them. Quiet. Controlled. But your voice shook—just enough to give yourself away.
“Váli,” you said. “Please.”
He looked at you.
And for just a moment, something cracked. Guilt flashed across his face—brief, aching. But it vanished just as fast.
“I’m not marrying some stranger because Vanaheim wants to play a kingdom,” he said. “I’m not putting on a smile and waving like this is normal. I won’t do it.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Loki said—still facing the window. Cold now. Absolute.
Váli blinked. “What?”
Loki turned back, slowly. “You will marry the girl they’ve chosen. You will secure the peace. And you will do it with pride.”
“I said no.”
“And I said,” Loki stepped forward, voice low, “you don’t have a choice.”
Váli’s eyes burned. “Then you’re not my father.”
A beat passed.
Loki’s face didn’t move, but his voice dropped.
“No,” he said. “Right now—I’m not.”
And with that, he sat again. No flourish. No order. Just one glance—dismissive, surgical.
It hit harder than any raised voice could have.
Váli looked at you again. One last time. There was something pleading in his eyes—like he was daring you to stop this. To choose.
But you didn’t.
You couldn’t.
And then—he turned. And walked out.
The chamber doors closed behind him with a sound that echoed like finality.
For a long moment, you didn’t move. Neither did Loki.
He sat back in the chair, still crowned, still composed—but his hand flexed slightly against the polished wood of the table, like it took everything in him not to shatter something.
You crossed the space between you, slow and steady.
When you reached him, you didn’t speak. You didn’t accuse.
You just reached up, gently, and cupped his face.
He flinched—just slightly. Not from you. But from what he was holding back.
You took his face in both hands.
“Look at me,” you whispered.
He did.
And then, softly: “Is this really the right choice? Are you sure?”
There was a pause.
And Loki, steady, breathing through his nose, said: “Yes.”
You closed your eyes.
Exhaled.
And dropped your hands.
You didn’t argue. You didn’t plead. You stepped back.
One, two paces.
Then turned.
And left.
The great doors opened again, spilling in the cool Asgardian air. Your gown brushed the marble. Your footsteps echoed.
Behind you, Loki remained seated.
Crowned. Composed.
Alone.
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i love the thought of loki being a stressed out king with kids. :)
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loki-cees-all · 2 years ago
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Hello and hi, my lovely!
I have this scenario for you that I sometimes think about.
How would Loki react if you (the mortal he might have feelings for but he’s not quite certain yet) were the only one to acknowledge his birthday? Maybe you put up a few balloons and even buy him a little cupcake with a candle on it? How would he react?
Happiest of birthdays to you! You’re a joy to know!! I love you!! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
Cupcake For a God {Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader}
Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link
Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader
Summary : Loki’s birthday is approaching, and it forces himself to reconcile who he wants to be versus who he actually is, and to reflect on his almost certainly unrequited feelings for you.
But what if the feelings weren’t unrequited?
W/c : 1.9k words
Content/Warnings : Angst, a bit of fluff
Author's Note : I swear I tried so hard to make this not so angsty! Please forgive me, Saz! 😭😭😭
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⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰
There were a lot of things for Loki to dislike about living on Midgard. 
For starters, he was being forced to live there, inside Stark Tower with the other Avengers as penance for his crimes. It was only fitting, they’d told him, that he should assist in their efforts to keep the mortals safe because he was the reason they needed protecting in the first place.
Loki didn’t bother telling them what Thanos had done to him after he fell from the Bifrost; truthfully, he still didn’t quite understand it himself. That entire year was a blur to him - a painful concoction of lies and manipulations and tears and blood that left him unable to tell the difference between fact and fiction, even almost two years after the torture had began. 
He didn’t want anyone to know how weak he was, about how much he’d lost himself. If they knew how vulnerable he was, they might decide he wasn’t worth the trouble and send him to the dungeons of Asgard instead. 
Another thing he disliked was the forced pleasantries and unnecessary rituals humans had developed with each other, and by extension, him. The humans would smile as they past him by on the street, but it was a falsity every time; the sentiment never reached their eyes, and Loki could smell their fear from several blocks away. 
Loki knew they didn’t actually care how his day was going, that their concern only went as far as making sure he wasn’t on the verge of invading with another alien force under his command. He wasn’t, but honestly, if it meant everyone kept their distance, then he wasn’t going to argue with it. 
It wasn’t fair to say that Loki preferred being alone, but he was certainly used to it, and that was in direct contradiction of the forced socialization he had to endure on Midgard - press conferences, team building exercises (which Loki believed was just an excuse to consume copious amounts of food and drink), training sessions, something called “movie nights”, and missions across the world to dismantle S.H.I.E.L.D.’s various bunkers and bases. 
It was so much talking, and even more listening. So much lying and pretending that everything was fine, that Loki didn’t feel like a caged monster, and that everyone else wasn’t waiting for the littlest thing to completely set him off. 
But Loki was trying as hard as he could to ignore the dull ache that haunted his dreams and every waking moment. He knew he had hurt people, he knew he needed to make up for his grievous transgressions, but he didn’t know how else to make up for it all. So he pressed on, through the discomfort and awkwardness, in the hope that one day everything might become a little easier.
The one bright side to all of this, the one shimmering ray of light amidst the sea of gray, was you. Loki didn’t quite know what to make of his attraction to you - was it real, or was it just your absence of fear in his presence? Had it just been too long since he’d felt the touch of another, or were you actually everything he’d ever wanted?
Loki almost didn’t want to find out, in case it wasn’t real. Because your smile reached your eyes every time you looked at him, and your laughter was like sparks blowing across the embers of a dying fire…but he couldn’t shake the fear that it could just be another trick. 
Perhaps his mind still hadn’t fully recovered from Thanos’ torture. Maybe Thor had put you up to this, as a way of making assimilation easier for him. 
Because why else would you look at him like that? Why would you go out of your way to sit next to him during the team’s movie nights? Why else would you lean towards him on the couch and fall asleep against the shoulder of a villain, of a monster, of a fool? 
It was stupid, and pointless, and illogical, and just like him to irrationally want something he couldn’t ever have. He was a God, and you were a mortal, and it would ultimately end in heartache either way. So while he had the chance, Loki forced himself to remain content and to just linger in the question of what if you could want him too. 
The final thing about Midgard, and the one he despised the most, was the mortal obsession with birthdays. Loki was grateful the Asgardians never paid any attention to such silly and exhausting traditions - which was surprising, considering how much Asgardians loved frivolity. 
So he really shouldn’t have been shocked when Thor discovered, and subsequently fell in love with, the concept of birthdays. His brother immediately requested his mortal companion Jane to perform the necessary calculations to determine the Midgardian equivalent of Thor’s birthdate - and Loki’s as well, which his brother gleefully announced to the entire team and embarrassed him to the deepest pits of his soul. 
A massive celebration was planned for Thor, with enough food and drink to sustain a small country, and on the special night, flashing lights and loud music bathed the massive common room of Stark Tower in merriment and laughter. Everyone was invited, and it would have been rude for Loki to not make an appearance - but it wasn’t because he wanted to admire you in your party dress, although that was a very lovely bonus. 
But as gorgeous as you looked - the longer the party went on, the sadder Loki became. Everyone was talking, smiling, and dancing, congratulating Thor on his many accomplishments and swapping happy stories of all the good times they’d had together. It was painful to witness, to know for a fact that no such party would be happening for himself when his birthday rolled around. 
Loki tried telling himself that he didn’t want it, and that he’d be miserable during it. He tried convincing himself that it would be too loud, and too bawdy, and vain, and that he didn’t need other people’s reassurances that they were happy he was there with them. He told himself he didn’t need it at all, that he was completely fine without it. But it was a lie, so of course it didn’t work. 
As the days approached to Loki’s birthday, he became even more withdrawn than usual. With the exceptions of necessary missions or training, he stopped leaving his room. He was silent during travel on the Quinjet, and refused your invitations to further movie nights, even though the disappointment on your face ripped him apart in ways he’d never experienced before. 
He felt like he deserved to suffer, to collapse in on himself like a dying star because he knew he’d never be worthy of the love and attention his older brother seemed to collect so effortlessly. It wasn’t Thor’s fault; it was just Loki’s lot in life. And the further he receded, the more likely his heartache would be justified, and he couldn’t be surprised if he was already disappointed.
The evening of his birthday was the worst night he’d experienced in a long time, not since the day he let go of the Bifrost. Loki didn’t even come out of his room for dinner that night, choosing instead to feast on pain, and anguish, and regret, and all the feelings he hadn’t ever had the time to process over his thousand years of existence. 
Thor tried several times to lure him out of his room, to no avail. Loki wouldn’t leave - no, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t bring himself to witness the fact that they’d done nothing special for him, even though he’d be furiously uncomfortable if they did. 
As the hours passed, he tried to distract himself with sleep, and then reading, but neither did the trick. Eventually, he curled up on the window seat of his private quarters, wrapped himself in furs and pressed his forehead against the glass, watching the tiny little mortals going about their nights in blissful ignorance of the god suffering fifty floors above them. 
And Loki was so lost that he could barely respond to the cautious knock on his door, the one that threatened to pull him away from his misery. But his heart leapt in his throat when he heard your voice calling his name, and he wanted so much to let you in, to feel you next to him. 
But the urge to say something cruel, to push you away and continue on alone, was just as strong. Loki didn’t know which to concede to, even as his feet slowly carried him to the door. He didn’t know what he was going to say, even while his fingers raked through his messy curls and rubbed the pain from his eyes. 
He felt ridiculous as he hesitated to open the door; he was a God, and once the most fearsome villain this entire planet had ever seen - but here he was, nervous and split open and too raw to simply open a door and look upon a beautiful woman while he was hiding away from his birthday. 
There was a soft rustling sound on the other side of the door, and Loki’s forehead rested against the wood as he heard your footsteps quietly retreating down the hallway. He’d waited too long, paralyzed by his self-indulgent indecision, and it had pushed you away. 
He thought about yanking the door open and calling after you. He considered begging for you to come back. He desperately wanted to wrap his arms around you and to pull you closer, but all he could manage was to gently pull the door open after he was sure you were gone. 
On the floor of the hallway, waiting patiently and comfortably for him, was a beautifully-decorated cupcake and a note resting on a small paper plate. A single candle rose out of the emerald and sapphire swirls of frosting, and the pink paper was folded in half, with his name written in the loveliest cursive on the outside. 
Loki fought back tears as he retrieved the gift from the floor, and he cautiously balanced the plate in one hand while holding the note in the other. 
Hey Loki,
I know birthdays are hard; they’re hard for me too. But hopefully this treat makes you smile, even just for a second. 
I’ll be awake for a little while longer - stop by my room if you need to talk. I promise I won’t find it weird :) 
XOXO
P.S. I’m really glad you’re here, even if you’re not ready to accept that yet. 
He swallowed hard as he stared at the most generous gift he’d ever received. He didn’t know if you even fully understood what you’d just done for him. He fervently wanted to go after you, and he desperately wanted to continue hiding. 
But you’d extended an invitation, one he could feasibly take you up on. No one would argue it wasn’t in his right to do so. And Gods above, he wanted to, more than anything else he’d ever wanted. But would it be worth it, or would it just make everything worse? 
Loki tore his damp and heavy eyes away from the note and glanced up and down the hallway. He shut his door, just as quietly as he’d opened it, wondering if it would be a mistake to allow his heart guide him to where he’d rather be. 
⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰
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k1tk4ttt · 2 months ago
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How it feel to finally accept and embrace the cringe of reading x reader fics
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hs-is-loml · 4 months ago
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FORGET ABOUT SMUT. PLEASE I AM TIRED OF IT. I NEED ANGST. I NEED GUT WRENCHING EMOTIONAL TURMOIL THAT MAKES ME SICK TO MY STOMACH. I NEED TO BAWL JUST FROM THINKING ABOUT IT.
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reginaphalangelobster · 5 months ago
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Dog Days
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You stood at the side, watching as they celebrated. You felt his presence behind you and sighed a breath of relief.
"You did well, my love"
You felt him places his hands on your shoulders and you leaned into the touch, into him.
"Go, enjoy"
"I don't want to leave you"
"You have to"
"I can't"
"You must, I will always be with you, in your heart. But you must let me go so you can live"
"What if I don't want to? What if I'm afraid to live without you because I can't?"
"I know you can, you are the strongest being I've ever met. Now go, enjoy the time you have with them, enjoy your new life"
A tear rolled down your cheek, you knew he was right. You lifted your hands off of his and you felt him disappear. You sniffled and held back your tears as you walked down to join them. Groot saw you and broke out into a huge smile.
"I am Groot!"
"I'm glad I came back too"
He grabbed your hands and pulled you into the dancing crowd. He spun you around, making you giggle as you danced with everyone. Maybe Knowhere is exactly where you need to be. Maybe the dog days are over.
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Tags:
@impetusofadream @goldfishthegr8 @avengers-official-recruit-agent @goreygirl03 @xenasolos @sparklyturtlefox @rios-sythe @nekoannie-chan @ilovemarvel12 @hayneyney @n3ponen @8812-342. @everyonesfriend @pinkthick @craftytacopiecash @meryuniverse @aliljaybird @yelldontwhisper
Notes: In case it wasn't clear this is after the reader has lost someone (I wrote it with Loki in mind)
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pinkcutiepiee · 10 months ago
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One more Day. [loki x gn!reader angst]
Masterlist
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Synopsis: You find out that Loki used you and your relationship for his own gain.
Prompts: “you knew. you knew i loved you and took full advantage of the fact that i'd do anything for you. and i knew that. i just kept at it hoping that one day you'd value me just as much.” From this list
And
“Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.” From this list
I should’ve known, you thought, as you paced around the room, unsure what to say, unable to find the correct words.
“Love, please,” he pleaded. You wasn’t sure what he was pleading for, exactly. All of this was his doing. So why was he trying to reason with you? You were just a pawn piece in his little game, after all.
“No. You used me, Loki, I don’t know what you want from me,” you finally look at him. If you wasn’t so angry, you may have noticed the hint of guilt showing in his face.
“Please just listen to me, sweetheart. I- I didn’t want to fall in love with you. But I did, how could I possibly make it up to you, please,” his voice breaks slightly at the end, the sound making you want to forgive him there and then. You have to force yourself to remember what he did.
“No, Loki, you lost that right when you decided to use me for your little scheme. You were too selfish to realise that I loved you. That I would’ve given you everything,” you argue, refusing to believe that he somehow changed and somehow loves you now.
“No… I knew, dove. I didn’t believe it at first. But the moment I realised you did, that’s when I started falling to… when I realised that somebody could actually love me,” you scoff at his admission, his words making you even more angry, somehow.
“So, you knew. you knew i loved you and took full advantage of the fact that i'd do anything for you,” you start. He just sits in silence and allows you to speak, knowing there was nothing he could say would change the fact that every word you were saying was the truth.
“and i knew that. i just kept at it hoping that one day you'd value me just as much. I knew that I had made a mistake trusting the God of Mischief, of all people.”
Then it was silent for a couple of minutes. He knew you had made up your mind. He just wishes he could hug you and make all of your pain go away. All of the pain that he caused.
“Is there anything I could do to help?” He asks, knowing it’s pointless, but needed to somehow ease the guilt building inside of him. Again, you scoff at him.
“Tell me how I’m supposed to unlove you. Tell me. Spare me, please,” you beg. This would’ve been so much easier if you hated him. But that was the one thing you couldn’t bring yourself to do.
Your mind was telling you to hate him. But your heart just craved any physical affection from the man you fear you will always love. The man who is the root cause of your current pain.
He couldn’t answer. Because he couldn’t bare the thought of you not loving him anymore. So he just let you go. In hopes that you would find him again one day. Then he could make it all up to you.
That was 15 months ago. Loki still hadn’t seen you since. Still, he held onto hope that one day, he’d be able to see you.
That’s all he craved. One more chance. One more day.
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raven-dor · 9 days ago
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when i look at you
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in which loki laufeyson takes his brother’s advice: be brave
PAIRING: loki laufeyson x fem!reader, platonic!thor odinson x reader
WARNINGS: fluff, jealousy, hurt/comfort, Thor interrupting, slight angst ig, FLUFF ENDING!!
WORD COUNT: 4.1k
🎶 : i hear a symphony - cody fry
AN: 🩵💗💛 - imagine loki's looks are like 'the dark world' era!! eeeeeek i loved writing this so so much!! enjoy!!
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“I still don’t understand how you convinced Odin to release you.” You called over your shoulder. “Your attack on Earth was but a month ago.” 
“I assume my mother had something to do with it. Odin himself seemed rather set on allowing me to rot.” 
“I’m sure he loves you…” You muttered under your breath so his ravens would not catch you. “In his own demented way.” 
Loki laughed, really laughed for the first time since his return. “He has allowed me to be released under the condition that I could not leave the castle grounds.”
“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the woods around you. “And just what would you call this?” 
“The Royal Wood, which is an extension of the grounds,” Loki smirked. “I would never break my vow to my father.” 
You scoffed, your hands resting on your hips. “Do not lie to me, Loki Odinson. If you recall, we have a vow of our own.” 
“How could I forget?” You were children when you made him swear to never trick you. He had held strong, for the most part. “You are possibly the only person I would never lie to. Well…” He leaned against a tree, leaning his head back to take in the summer sun. “You and my mother.”
“If you say so.” You hated when he did this, when he made you feel special. It was horrible, the worst trick of all, mainly because he had no idea what he was doing to you. “I have to bring your mother these ingredients.” 
“Allow me to accompany you.” 
Your cheeks felt hot, and you shook your head, flustered yet again by his chivalrous behavior. “That’s not necessary.” 
“I insist.” He took the basket out of your arms, beckoning you to follow after him. “My mother would have my head if she saw a lady carrying such a load, let alone her favorite lady.” 
“Loki.” You scolded, reaching out to take the basket back. “I am not a lady.” 
“This again.” He sighed. “You are quite stubborn.” 
“You’re one to talk.” You laughed, cowering under the judgmental looks of the nobility you passed.
“Must you deny me this one kind act?” 
“It is not proper-” 
“You must be the only servant who complains when someone helps you.”
“I take pride in my work, Loki.” 
“An admirable quality.” The guards in front of his mother’s suite bowed their heads, opening the doors. “Still, you are stubborn.” 
“Loki-” You scowled, curtsying before the queen. “Your Majesty, the ingredients you requested.” 
“Thank you, my dear.”
Frigga was the very picture of elegance. Not only was she elegant, but she was also kind to everyone regardless of rank. You had no issue carrying out trivial tasks for the queen, because the queen never treated you as lesser than; she treated you as she would treat her own sons. “Did you have any trouble?” 
“Not at all, my lady.” 
“Mother.” Loki approached the golden-haired woman, kissing her cheek. “Tell your lady she must not bow when she greets you.” 
“Loki!” You gasped, turning to Frigga like you had been the one to say it. “My lady, I would never-” 
“Must you tease the girl so?” Frigga chastised her son. 
“I am so sorry, my lady.” 
“Do not apologize, my son is a prankster, as we all know.” She smiled warmly, tucking a strand of hair behind Loki’s ear. “Among many other admirable qualities.” 
Loki grew shy under his mother’s affection, brushing off her compliments. “We must be going.” 
“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow. 
“You wished to visit the library, yes?” 
“I never-” You tilted your head. “Have you developed mind-reading powers as well?” 
He shrugged, kissing his mother’s cheek once more before extending his hand. “Shall we?” 
You smacked his hand away, walking out of the queen’s room with Loki trailing behind you. “If you can read minds now, please refrain from reading mine.” He laughed, and you smacked his arm. “I mean it, Loki.” 
“I cannot read minds. Remember that we have been friends for quite some time now. I know you perhaps better than I know myself.” 
“Well, no wonder. You are such a mystery.” You teased. “The rakish, brooding prince. I am surprised some lady has not taken you into her clutches.” 
“You think me rakish?” He raised an eyebrow, holding the library door open. 
“One observes things.” You shrugged, gliding over to the fiction section, grabbing the first book that caught your eye. “It is not a bad trait, I assure you.” 
“If you say so.” He looked rather disappointed, plopping into his favorite leather chair. 
“You are also kind, considerate, even. Loyal to a fault.” Your hand found his, squeezing it. “You are many things, but most of all, you are a wonderful friend.” 
“Friend.” He huffed, face scrunched like the word left a bad taste in his mouth. 
“Are we not friends?” You sat back, hand pulling away from his. Oh, how you wished you could stay like that forever, his forever-cold hand intertwined with yours. 
“Yes, we are.” He almost sounded disappointed. You decided not to dwell on it, immersing yourself in the novel. Loki simply stared, admiring your beauty, the way your eyes scanned the page, the way you smiled to yourself, the way your eyebrows furrowed. 
“You wear your heart on your sleeve.” He murmured.
Your eyes did not leave the page. “Oh?” 
“It is quite-” He stopped himself. “It is quite humorous.” 
“If it is so amusing, then by all means, keep staring.” You teased. You were used to this, the staring, the intense gaze Loki held. He loved to watch people, to observe those around him. At first, you had found it quite overwhelming, especially when you looked up to find him already staring at you. His eyes were beautiful, dangerous as they pulled you in. You shook your head, fighting against your imagination.
“My prince.” You looked up, fighting the urge to groan as the nuisance that was the Lady Ness approached. “I thought I would find you here.” 
Loki looked entirely unenthused, but still entertained the woman. “Hello, my lady.” 
The Lady Ness was the eldest daughter of one of Odin’s closest advisors. She was what Asgardians considered to be the perfect beauty, with blonde hair bordering on white, and beautiful pale blue eyes. She was tall, the very picture of royalty. 
Which is what she desperately wanted to be. She had followed the two princes around since you were children, treating them as if they were idols, gods even. 
They were, but still. It became tiresome. 
She had her sights set on Thor for eons, but after she learned of his undying love for the Lady Jane, she gave up, switching her sights to Loki. 
There was nothing the younger prince hated more than being the second choice. 
There was nothing you hated more than the Lady Ness suddenly finding interest in a man you’d loved since age five. You did not attempt to acknowledge the woman, simply looking back down at your book. It was hard to focus, though, with her constant chattering. 
“Will I see you at the Summer Solstice Ball, my prince?” 
Loki’s gaze fell back to you before responding. “You will indeed.” 
“How wonderful. I do love dancing.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Do you enjoy dancing, my prince?” 
“With the right lady.” He nodded. “I do.” 
“Shall I reserve a place for you on my card?” Your hold on the book tightened. “It would be an immense honor.” A scoff fell from your lips, and your eyes widened. You had meant for that to be in your head. 
Loki smiled. “I’m afraid I-” 
“Is something the matter?” The Lady Ness interrupted, staring at you. “Have I done something to amuse you?” 
You looked up, shaking your head. “No, my lady.” 
“Now you remember your manners.” The Lady Ness raised an eyebrow. You simply stared back, your face blank. “When I entered the room, you did not curtsy. Are you manners selective?” 
You shut your book, standing up. “You seem rather concerned with my manners. How observant you must be.” The lady proudly nodded. “Allow me to explain, I bow to royalty.” You gestured to Loki before gesturing to her. “Not some common lady with an aptitude for mistreating servants.”
“Why I-” She gasped, stumbling over her words. You made a point to be over the top in your curtsy to the prince, before promptly walking out of the room.
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You angrily picked bunches of moss from the forest floor, ripping it from the ground as if it had wronged you.
The Lady Ness annoyed you to no end, with her flirting and her flowy gowns and her touching Loki's arm. It was as if she did it on purpose, as if she amplified her flirting when you were there, like she was trying to tell you he was hers, that you could never have him. 
You already knew that, no thanks to her. It was something that kept you up into the late hours of the night, the ‘what-ifs’ haunting you even in sleep. 
If you were of some higher standing, you would have smacked her long ago. Unfortunately, you could only verbally attack her. 
“Are you quite well?” Loki’s voice broke you from your thoughts. “You did not stop when I called after you yesterday.” 
“I cannot stand her.” You complained. “She-she is without a doubt-” 
He looked rather amused at your ranting, hands clasped behind his back, his ever-familiar smirk gracing his lips. “I am sorry.” 
“Why should you be sorry?” You laughed bitterly. “I’m sure she will mellow with age.” 
“Mellow with age?” He raised an eyebrow.
You nodded, going back to your gathering. “Odin must be rather pleased with this match.” 
“Match?” It seemed as if Loki was stuck on repeat, parroting you with confusion etched in his tone. 
“Between you and Lady Ness.” You grumbled, brushing the dirt off your skirt as you stood. “I’m certain he has arranged for her to be your lady wife.” 
“I’m sorry?”
You walked further into the wood, Loki following after you. “She will be a great wife, I’m sure. She seems intelligent enough and could bring you company. Your children-” Your voice broke, and you felt your cheeks grow hot. “They will be menaces, but what child isn’t? I’m sure they will grow out of it, as she will grow out of her rather annoying attributes.” You pulled out your knife, cutting off a section of tree bark, your mind clouded with rage. “She will bring you happiness. I’m excited for you, truly-” You hissed, the knife falling out of your hand as you stared at the stream of blood that ran down your palm. “Ow.” 
Loki raced over, taking your hand in his as he observed the wound. “You were being careless.” 
“I was not.” Your eyes welled, the pain finally taking hold. “It is just a cut.” 
“You are practically crying.” He frowned. “You must be careful.” 
“I-” He waved his hand over your injury, the pain subsiding, the cut healing itself. You watched in fascination, the wound glowing green for a mere moment before dissapearing entirely. “How did you-” 
“Growing up with Thor meant I had to be prepared for anything.” He smiled, his fingers gently tracing over the once bloody finger. “Does it hurt?” 
You shook your head, voice quiet. “It’s like it never even existed.” 
“Good.” He looked up, his breath shaky when he met your gaze. “You frightened me.” 
“You worry too much.” You hadn’t meant to, truly, but your eyes fell to his lips, heart racing. “I’m sorry.” 
His hand found its way to your waist, pulling you close. You gasped, glaring as a smirk grew on the prince’s lips. “Whatever for, my lady?” 
“I didn’t mean to-” You swallowed. “I did not mean to insult the Lady-” 
“Please, do not speak her name any longer.” He groaned. “She is as tiresome as she is wealthy.”
“She is to be your lady wife, is she not?” You murmured, his hand that had once cradled your injured hand now holding your cheek. “She is quite the match.” 
He laughed. “I’m sure she will make some unlucky man rather miserable.” 
“Loki-” 
“If I have any say-” He whispered, his eyes dropping to your lips momentarily. “I will marry for love, not because my father made some strategic alliance. She is not for me, I assure you.” 
“You-” Loki now had your back against the tree, practically pinning you in position. His forehead lay against yours, your breath entwined with his. “You have some other lucky lady in mind?” 
He nodded. “I do.” 
“Oh?” The reality of the situation hit you like Mjolnir hit its enemies. Hard and true, you accepted that you might just kiss the man you’d loved since before you could remember. “Do I know her?” 
He nodded once more, his lips so close they brushed against yours as he spoke. “I believe so-” 
“Brother!” Your eyes widened, and you pushed Loki away, cheeks hot as you forced yourself to look as inconspicuous as possible. Thor’s voice rang through the wood. “Brother, where are you?” 
“I-” Loki stuttered, hand reaching out to hold you once more. “Just wait one moment-” 
“Ah!” Thor’s golden hair came into view, the god haphazardly destroying the forest floor. “My lady, it is wonderful to see you!” 
You curtsied, your heart and mind still racing from the moment before. “My prince. I was just leaving.” You couldn’t meet Loki’s eyes, simply nodding. “Loki.” 
You raced toward the castle, forgetting your basket full of ingredients. 
Loki would bring them to his mother later. 
“Have I interrupted something?” Thor’s voice held a certain sort of mischeif that made Loki feel uneasy. “It seems as if I caught the pair of you in a rather intimate moment.” 
“I-” Loki could not find the words, something that pleased Thor greatly. 
“The great trickster is speechless?” He grinned, patting his little brother on the back. “Oh, Loki, why did you not say something?” 
“Like you said. You interrupted.” He was practically glowering, glaring at his brother like it was his life’s purpose. “I-I had almost-” 
“Do you want my advice, brother?” Loki continued to glare at him, fighting the urge to stab the golden-haired imbecile in the gut. “You must do something. Be brave, show her you care.” 
“I was doing that!” Loki yelled. “You have the worst timing in the world-” 
“Calm down, brother.” Thor laughed. “When I first met the Lady Jane-” Oh gods, Loki thought as he rolled his eyes. Once Thor began to talk about Jane, he tended to never stop. “She was rather intimidating, smart, and beautiful. But after I showed her my interest, my-” 
Loki walked away, fists clenched tightly as Thor continued, following after him. 
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You hadn’t seen Loki in days. 
You had gone to Frigga’s chambers after the incident, to apologize for leaving the ingredients behind, when you saw Loki just outside her door, the basket in hand. 
After that, you’d gone out of your way to avoid him. 
It was childish, you knew that, but you couldn’t look at him without transforming into a blabbering mess. You purposely did your chores outside of the castle grounds so he could not follow you or surprise you. 
Your room was deep in the ground, chilly from its lack of sunlight and candles. You hadn’t minded before, but now that you were in your self-prescribed isolation, you couldn’t help but wish you had a prettier view. 
Just when you thought you’d forgotten, that you’d gotten over your momentary lapse in judgment, it all came rushing back. His hand cradling your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours, his fingertips digging into your hip. A chill ran down your spine, and you shook your head as if that would rid you of the scandalous thoughts. 
He was simply being kind, caring for you as you had cared for him.
A handmaiden walked into your room unannounced, gently placing a large box on your simple vanity. You jumped when you saw her. “I did not see you.” 
The handmaiden, one of Frigga’s, no doubt, smiled kindly. “I gathered. I was tasked with ensuring you received this package, and was told you must wear it to the Summer Solstice Ball.” 
“Wear it?” You tilted your head, rising from your bed to inspect the gift. “Is it a gown?” 
“It is indeed, my lady.” 
So this had been Loki’s doing.
“You must not call me that.” You smiled. “I am no lady.” 
The handmaiden shrugged, glancing over your shoulder curiously as you pulled apart the forest green ribbon that held together the wrappings. “It seems to me that you shall be soon.” 
“What-” You choked, shaking your head vehemently. “I- that is-” 
“I will take my leave.” She bowed quickly, shutting the door behind her.  You cursed the god of Mischief, vowing that when you were done ignoring him, you would scold him for his antics. The wrappings fell away, your eyes welling as you stared at the gown.
After all these years, all this time, he never forgot a single thing you told him, and this gown was proof. It was exactly what you’d described to him two thousand years ago. 
You’d been young then, much more naive than now. You and Loki were lounging in the gardens, watching the nobility walk by in their dreamy attire. You sighed, staring down at your robes in embarrassment. “Could you conjure me something?” 
“I can try.” Loki nodded, placing his book down beside him. “What is it you wish for?” 
“A nicer dress.” You were jealous of their beauty, your simple frock nothing compared to their silky pastel gowns. 
“I-” He frowned. “I am sorry. My powers are not-” 
You shook your head. “Forget I said anything.” 
He nodded, watching you with interest. “What would it look like, your dream gown?” 
It would look like this. The gown that he’d sent you, which now hung delicately in your closet, two thousand years later. 
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You could hear the roar of the partygoers from the end of the hall, your nerves growing more and more the closer you got. You thanked the gods that this was not the kind of ball where attendees were announced, as you would surely faint from the judgmental eyes that fell on you. 
The ballroom glowed bright golden, the light the candles provided reflecting off the pure gold walls. Your jaw hung loose, taking in the decorations, the people, the fashion. Your eyes fell to the bottom of the stairs, cheeks growing hot when you met Loki’s gaze. 
He was standing by the Lady Ness, who looked livid that you had torn his attention from her. 
You couldn’t find it in you to care, not when he was looking at you like that. His smile was bright, and he looked devilishly handsome in his forest green attire, walking up the steps. 
You took a deep breath, meeting him in the middle. “My prince.” 
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He spoke plainly, as if it were fact. Technically, it was.
“I-”
“Do not try and deny it.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?” 
You gladly complied with his request, cheeks growing hot, from the attention or Loki’s gaze, you couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was both. “You remembered.” You looked over, finding satisfaction in the way your words had caused Loki to turn red. “I can’t believe you remembered.” 
He shrugged like what he’d done wasn’t the most romantic thing you’d ever experienced. “Only the best for-” 
“My prince.” You clenched your fist when Lady Ness’s grating voice met your ears, turning toward the enemy. “I lost you for a moment.” 
Loki laughed. “Yes, you did.” His hand tightened, pulling you closer to his side as if to signal he was occupied. You had felt it was rather obvious, but Lady Ness had a history of feigning ignorance to blatantly obvious rejections. 
“Shall we dance?” Lady Ness’s steely blue eyes darted toward you, as if she were trying to scare you off. You were not deterred by her weak attempt at intimidation, your hand still comfortably held in Loki’s. “You did promise me.” 
He tilted his head. “Did I?” 
You laughed, your hand falling to your side. “It is but one dance.” The Lady Ness let out a gasp that neither of you acknowledged. “I’m quite parched anyhow.” 
He nodded. “As you wish.” 
The Lady Ness looked entirely displeased at his actions, especially over the phrase ‘as you wish,’ which had been directed toward you, and not her request. You made your way to the drinks, taking a flute of champagne as you found your place in the corner of the room. Leaning against the column, you glared as Lady Ness cackled, downing the flute in one go. 
Loki had not planned for this to happen. 
He had planned for you to receive the dress, to escort you down the steps. He had also planned to confess his undying love for you, but Lady Ness once again interrupted.
She had the most inconvenient timing. 
He led her to the middle of the dance floor, putting as much distance as possible. The Lady Ness kept laughing, which he found odd, as he had not said a single thing since the dance had begun. He kept looking around the edge of the room, searching for your familiar frame. 
Ah. 
You looked radiant. Positively glowing. He’d always loved you in that color. If he was being honest with himself, he loved you in every color. He frowned, watching as you chewed your nails, something you had the habit of doing when you were anxious. 
“My prince?” The Lady Ness called out as he walked away from her in the middle of the dance floor, stalking toward you, the crowd parting as he walked. 
“Dance with me.” 
You jumped, clutching your heart. “Gods, Loki, you scared me.” You guiltily looked at your fingers before meeting his gaze. “I-” 
He waved his hand, all the rips you’d made in your delicate skin gone in an instant. “Dance with me.” 
“Loki.” You looked over his shoulder, eyes widening at the sobbing lady he’d left in the middle of the floor. “Have you gone mad?” 
“Possibly.” 
“You cannot just leave her in the middle of the floor.” You leaned closer, whispering so the many eavesdropping ears around you could not hear. “Even if she is quite annoying.” 
“I am the prince. I can do as I wish.” 
You rolled your eyes at his comment. “You-” It seemed he took your lack of rejection as a yes, holding your hand firmly in his as he pulled you to the middle of the dance floor, the light waltz playing in the background. “You are the most indignant, prideful, scheming man I have ever known.” 
He smiled, a squeak leaving your lips when he pulled you much closer than a waltz called for. “Tell me what else I am.” 
“You-” You gulped, growing nervous under his ever attentive eye. “You are-” 
“It seems you are at a loss for words.” He whispered in your ear, a chill running down your spine from the proximity of it all. “Is that a recent development, my lady?” 
“You are arrogant.” You hissed. 
He grinned. “I am.” 
“You are marvelous.” 
“I am.” His reaction was delayed, caught off guard by your sudden compliment. 
“It seems you are at a loss for words.” You parroted his words from just a moment ago. “Is that a recent development, my prince?” 
“You are a wonder.” He held your gaze so beautifully that any innocent bystander would assume you were both deeply in love. “You look divine, a goddess in your own right.” 
“Loki.” You felt as if you could melt, the music slowing to a stop before you could respond. The crowd around you clapped wildly, obviously invested in the show you two had put on. 
Loki bowed, his brother catching his gaze. Thor was practically jumping, mouthing the words he had said days before. 
Be brave.
It was so unfortunate when his brother was right. You stood upright, following Loki’s gaze to see Thor grinning like a buffoon. “What is he-” 
Loki’s hands grabbed your face, pulling your lips to his. Your eyes widened at the action, weak from his touch. Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer. He grinned, a hand falling to your hips, squeezing.
You gasped, your knees weakening. “Loki-” 
“Is all that you can say my name?” He whispered, his forehead once again lying against yours.
“You are a-” He leaned down, kissing your lips once more.
“I love you…” His breath was heavy, pupils blown as he stared at you. “Most ardently.” 
A tear fell down your cheek, and you grinned. “Most ardently?” 
He nodded, voice wavering. “I assume you love me as well?” 
“I do.” You kissed the corner of his mouth softly, so softly he had barely felt it. “With my whole being."
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taglist: @milesdrift @eddiemunsons-lover @maryjaneeeee
LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO JOIN!
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isaacarellanesismyhusband · 6 months ago
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sorry doesn’t bring them back
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pair: Loki Laufeyson x reader
summary: y/n(she/her) is forced by the circumstances to collaborate with Loki, and that's the worst thing that happened to her since her family's death
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❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿
The Avengers’ jet was too quiet. Everyone sat in their seats, focused on the mission ahead. Loki was with them, dressed in black armor, his usual smirk missing. He wasn’t here by choice, but circumstances had forced the team to work with him. Everyone was tense, but no one more than you.
You couldn’t stand the sight of him. Every time he spoke, you clenched your fists until your nails dug into your palms. Every time he moved, your stomach twisted in knots.
“Y/N,” Steve said gently, breaking the silence. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you lied, not looking up from the map in your lap.
Loki’s eyes flicked to you, curious. He’d noticed the way you avoided him, how your jaw tightened every time he was near. He wasn’t sure why, but it amused him—until it didn’t.
“Is there something you’d like to share with the class, darling?” Loki drawled, his tone sharp.
You snapped your head up. “Don’t call me that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Touchy, are we?”
“That’s enough,” Tony warned, but you didn’t back down.
“Why is he even here?” you spat, glaring at Loki. “What, did everyone forget who he is? What he’s done?”
“Y/N…” Natasha started, but you cut her off.
“No, Nat! He killed people. Thousands of people. My family…” Your voice broke, and the words spilled out before you could stop them. “My family was in New York when he decided to play god.”
The jet went dead silent.
Loki’s face hardened. He didn’t say a word, but his expression darkened as he watched the tears welling in your eyes.
“My mom, my dad, my little brother—they were all there,” you continued, your voice trembling with anger. “And they died. Because of you.”
You stood abruptly, your chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I’ll never forgive you. Never.”
With that, you stormed to the back of the jet, needing space to breathe.
The team sat in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. Loki stayed where he was, his usual arrogance gone. For once, he looked... affected.
“She’s not wrong,” Clint muttered after a while. “You did destroy a lot of lives.”
Loki didn’t respond. Instead, he stood and quietly followed you.
You were leaning against the wall of the jet, arms crossed tightly over your chest, staring at nothing.
“I didn’t know,” he said softly.
You didn’t turn to face him. “I don’t care.”
Loki sighed. “I can’t undo what I’ve done, Y/N. Believe me, if I could…”
You laughed bitterly. “You don’t care about what you did. You only care because it makes me hate you.”
“That’s not true,” he said firmly. “I care because I’m trying to be better, and I know I’ll never be forgiven for my past. But…” He hesitated. “I am sorry. For your family. For all of it.”
You finally turned to face him, your eyes filled with tears. “Sorry doesn’t bring them back.”
“I know,” Loki whispered.
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jiyascepter · 1 year ago
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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Fanfiction Masterlist ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
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Welcome to my Masterlist! You can find all the stuff I have written under the cut. Warnings have been provided in the fics separately.
➳ The top fics are the recent ones and as you go down the list you'll find the early stuff :)
➳ Want to be added to my taglist for fanfics? Tell me in the comments/dm/asks etc or just click here! And lmk if you want to be removed!
➳ My AO3
TO BE UPDATED AS I POST MORE STORIES ! HOPE YOU ENJ0Y MY FICS ;)
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Fluff: 🧁 | Angst: ❄ | Smut: ✦ | (h): hint of
Loki:
Caught You: ✦ [Loki x f!reader] When you make fun of Loki's magic, he "demonstrates" how his magic can be useful. In many, ehm..ways. What did you expect?
Training Blues: 🧁 (h): ❄️ [Loki x gn!reader] Y/n struggles with feelings of inadequacy in training until Loki comforts them. A sweet hurt/comfort fic.
Kitchen Confessions: 🧁 ✦ [Loki x f!reader] What will your roommate do when you give him some silent treatment?
Midgard Mischief: An Evening In New York: 🧁 [Loki x gn!reader] Loki's first trip to the Earth realm. You take him for an evening out in New York where his protective instincts surface.
Subtle Seduction: 🧁 (h): ✦ [Loki x f!reader] Loki's seducing words and caresses before a party.
The Birthday Surprise: ✦ [Loki x f!reader] When a birthday girl cancels her party with the Avengers, she finds herself unexpectedly visited by the God of Mischief, who uncovers her deception and offers her a different kind of celebration...
A Carnival Serenade: 🧁 [Loki x f!reader] A cheerful reader drags reluctant Loki into the chaos of a city carnival. A grumpy x sunshine fic.
Embracing Radiance: 🧁 (h): ❄ [Loki x gn! reader] Loki becomes a source of strength for the reader who faced body shaming at work.
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Bucky Barnes:
The Tattoo: ✦ [Rockstar!Bucky x F!TattooArtist!Reader] Bucky, the charismatic and wildly popular rock performer of America, asks for a tattoo from you in a rather..."unconventional" place...
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The Tunes & Tales Collection [1k Followers Celebration] Masterlist Soon!
Run Away: ❄️🧁 [Loki x f!reader] You and Loki decide to run away.
Whiskey's Pouring: ❄️ [Loki x gn!reader] You grapple the sorrow of lost love.
Found You: 🧁[Loki x gn!reader] Loki and you find solace and deep connection in your fleeting time together.
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RANDOM MARVEL INCORRECT QUOTES:
Babygirl
Unplugged
Deeper
Forbidden Fanfics
Karma
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➳ CHECK OUT THESE AMAZING FICS BY OTHER PEOPLE TOO !!
207 notes · View notes
ririsasaki · 8 months ago
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It’s Nice to Have a Friend
Loki x Reader Slight Angst + Fluff
Summary: Loki is imprisoned for life, and you, his childhood friend, decide to visit him.
Inspired by the song It’s Nice to Have a Friend by Taylor Swift.
Note: It’s written in third person, and the pronouns at the beginning are she/her. It switches to the pronoun you after a while.
Word Count: 1.6k
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Pacing around in his small cell, Loki was seething. His head still couldn’t get around what had happened to him. Imprisoned for life. How? How could Odin dare? Well, he thought miserably, staring into the opposite cell, I suppose he did always favor Thor. The thought stabbed him deep in the heart. He was always shoved aside. Always second. Always alone.
The thought of staying in this small, public yet private area for the rest of his four thousand years of living was painful. He didn’t want to stay here. Why didn’t his mother do anything? Bringing him books was nice, he supposed, but wouldn’t she try to save him, at the very least? Because she’s not… his thought trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to think that. He loved her. He truly did.
It was the middle of the night, he could sense it, even if the dungeon was underground and had no windows. A distant patter of someone scurrying across the landing caught his attention. Man, it was hard, trying to fall asleep under these blazing lights. He swung his legs off the bed with little enthusiasm, sighed deeply, and walked towards the large window that exposed him to everyone who looked.
He wasn’t surprised when he saw the veiled shadow walk hurriedly, as if wanting to get something over with. What totally normal was, because no one liked to be here anyways, prisoner or not. What did surprise him was the flash of [h/c] hair that flew behind them, her steps marching toward his cell. His cell. A flash of memory flew past in his head, remembering. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t… not after this…
Once she came to a halt in front of his giant window, he put on a tragic version of his signature smirk. But of course. He should’ve known. It was just another person about to rant how bad of a person he was. Just another being, about to tell him just now terrible and unworthy he’d been. But the person in front of his cell did neither. After a while of silent staring, she took her cloak off, revealing the one person he’d wished not to see: you.
You looked at him with tragedy glowing in your eyes. You’d never wanted to see him there, never. You knew of his familial troubles, but never knew he’d take it this far. It hurt, to see him like this. Imprisoned and lost. With no one’s support.
His heart also skipped a beat. How long had it been since he’d seen you? He couldn’t remember. He only knew that it was a lot longer than he wanted it to be. He doesn’t enjoy hurting people, especially not you. You were the only friend he had as a child, and never turned away from him, even after knowing he was a Frost Giant. You didn’t care about what being he was. You cared only about him. You were his sole glimmer of light in his realm of darkness. You led him out of sadness and misery. But he betrayed you. He left you, without thinking twice. Or maybe he didn’t think at all.
‘Why are you here,’ he asked, his voice determined but with a slight hint of longing, ‘Have you come to gloat? To mock? You’re just like the others, aren’t you? Just here to see me break, to see me fall.’
You stared back into his blue eyes but doesn’t say anything. This certainly wasn’t what she expected him to say when she decided to visit him.
‘Well?’ he hissed, his voice laced with venom and a sliver of guilt, ‘Say something!’ His voice raised.
You merely looked back at him, looking away when he half yelled at her. Guilt filled his entire being. He couldn’t- Why was he-
When you glanced back, your eyes were shining with unshed tears. You opened your mouth, your voice about to break. ‘I came,’ you whispered hoarsely, ‘because I missed you.’
These words hit Loki with a pang. I missed you. They echoed in his head, awakening every nerve and bringing out all the guilt that he hid away. His breathing became ragged, shallow. Before he could properly react, however, you pressed on.
‘You were gone for a year, I thought… I thought… I thought I lost you,’ you said, tears falling freely from your eyes. Every bat of your eyelids poured more down, until they collected at your chin and dripped onto the dungeon floor. Shakily, she steps through the barrier and leaves very little space between them. She stared up at him with her [e/c] eyes.
‘I was so worried,’ she said, taking his hand in her own and pressing her forehead against his chest. ‘I missed you,’ she repeated, fully leaning into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Oh, how you missed his scent, his clothes, everything. He had meant so much to you. How many nights you’d curl up in his old room and cry. How many times hearing his name brought you new tears.
Slowly, his head came around. Tears were welling up in his eyes, too. He loved you too… But would he ever be able to love you like he did before? Before… a feeling of regret washed over him. If only he didn’t let go. If only he didn’t fling himself off the Bifrost… then maybe everything would’ve been alright…
His arms crawled up your back, holding you close. The emotions flying around his head was making him dizzy, unsure of what to do. Only two words made it past his mouth: ‘Don’t go.’
It wasn’t just an order. It was a plea, only found in the most desperate people in the world. Now he understood what people meant when they said that the most hurt people smile the brightest. Because they know. They know that everything is over. That everything will finally be alright.
You hugged him tighter. ‘I won’t,’ you told him quietly, your words slightly muffled by his clothes, ‘I won’t leave you. Not ever. I’ll stay with you, even after you go to Valhalla.’
Loki’s tears fell down his cheeks, his heart swelling. How he’d missed this. How he’d missed your voice, your soft body pressed to his. The gratefulness he had in himself was barely describable through words. In that moment, he felt like the happiest man alive. He was so damn glad you were there. Always there.
‘I never meant to hurt you, or any of them,’ he said softly, one of his hands coming up to pat your head. You nodded, showing your agreement. ‘Why,’ he gulped as he pressed on, ‘why don’t you… hate me like the others?’ Your answer didn’t come late.
‘Because I know you better than they do. I know you didn’t mean it.’ Your voice was soothing, like the fireplace in winter. ‘I know you’d never do something like that. Never. I know that it was him that forced you.’
His heard clenched when you mentioned Thanos. ‘That madman…’ his voice quivered, ‘He tortured me to the brink of insanity. Took pleasure in watching me break.’ You pressed further into him. ‘I know,’ you repeated, ‘I know. And therefore I love you.’
His heart skipped a beat again. Looking down at you, he asked, his voice barely a whisper: ‘Do you know, or even have the slightest idea, what I’ve become?’
‘You’re the exact same as before, just… you know. Tortured and broken.’ You were uncertain when you said this. You knew he was sensitive on this topic. You knew him so well.
‘Do you know what I’ve done?’ he asked, his tone sinking drastically, as if he didn’t want to know the answer.
‘Well, yes.’ You replied again, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.
‘Do you know,’ he was fully shaking by now, ‘what monster lives inside me…?’
You lifted your head, staring into the depths of his eyes. The only things you found were sorrow, fear, and guilt. Choosing your words, you said:
‘Yes, and it’s a monster that was born out of darkness. And before that empty darkness, there was a heart, a source of light and warmth that lit up the whole place. You see, hearts need to be fed with love, otherwise they die away. That’s exactly what happened to yours.’ You traced your index finger over where his heart was, drawing a shaky breath out of him.
‘Without the heart, the place was submerged in darkness, and out of that darkness grew a monster. Something people despise. But all that it’s trying to do…’ you trailed off, bringing your hands off his waist to hold his, ‘is to not let anyone else grow a new heart in that blank, because it’s afraid that if it ever happens, it’ll be broken again.’ A second of silence reigned between you, your breathings heavy. Finally, he spoke.
‘Will you… grow me a new heart…?’ he asked, his eyes filled with plea, ‘Will you fill that unbearable blank?’
You answered without hesitation. ‘Yes, of course. And I’ll make sure it’ll never be broken ever again.’
Loki’s eyes glowed as you said this. It was as if someone had taken off the invisible weight weighing him down. He sighed in both relief and gratitude, bending down to kiss you. You returned his kiss, hungry for him.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered against your lips, his breath mixing with your own. ‘The pressure killed me. I couldn’t bear-‘ you shushed him, closing the distance between your lips once more. His heart lifted, rising up into his chest. It was just as you described. Your love and care made a new heart bloom in his chest.
‘I’m so damn glad I have you,’ he whispered again, his eyes closing, feeling you. ‘I must thank you. For everything. You made me feel… alive.’
You smiled. ‘But of course. It’s nice to have a friend, isn’t it?’
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hunny-beann · 2 years ago
Text
Desiderium I
Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader
-> Part II
Note: This fic absolutely breaks cannon in multiple ways, but I felt the urge to write this and created it thus lol, so I hope you enjoy regardless (and for my own sanity, we'll just call this an avenger!Loki au).
Synopsis:
Loki is plagued by a dream thrust upon him as punishment during his imprisonment, and finds that even once he regains his freedom, he still can't move past the vision of the life he could have had with you. And when those around him struggle to understand his sorrows, he decides to show them firsthand what he endured while asleep that night, and all that he lost both by waking up, and by making all of the wrong choices for far too long.
Oh, but it's never truly over, is it?
And your sudden reappearance proves that.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of pregnancy
Word Count: 5,057
"Does he ever stop sulking?"
Tony muttered under his breath after sparing a quick glance toward the aesir God of Mischief that sat in the corner of the room, staring into a cloud of green created by his own hand with a type of longing he had worn almost constantly for months now.
At first, many had thought his sullen nature to be a result of his capture and subsequent imprisonment, but even now that he was far more free to roam and do what he pleased (within reason), his somber attitude still had yet to let up.
In fact, some would even swear that it had gotten worse.
The God of Thunder included, and also in particular.
From the beginning, Thor had perhaps been the biggest defender of his younger brother, and of course he had, how could he not be?
But even still, when it came to the questioning of Loki's less than enthusiastic (and at times, borderline concerning) behavior, Thor somehow managed to become even more defensive of his confusing family member and all of the quirks that he seemed to have.
This occasion included.
He turned toward Anthony Edward Stark with a slight frown, a sigh that seemed reserved purely for situations concerning Loki passing his lips,
"All of this has been rather... difficult for him. There is much that he misses about our realm, and even more that he has lost."
Tony rose a brow at that, fighting back a groan at the seemingly constant dramatics of the "Odinson" siblings.
Who would have thought that two gods could be so annoyingly theatrical?
"A lot of people have lost a lot of things, Point Break. Some of them at his hand, in case you need a reminder."
Tony muttered, struggling to find sympathy for the green themed deity sitting across the room, a look of deep longing and sorrow in his gaze as he continued staring into the cloud of his own creation.
Thor sighed again.
"I do not, Stark, nor does my brother. He had a multitude of things revealed to him in dreams delivered by the gods whilst locked away. He is... Not the same."
Tony sighed, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to return his focus toward what he'd been doing before he'd made the mistake of mentioning Loki to his older brother.
"Whatever you say, big guy. Just do me a favor though and ask him if he can practice his daily sulking rituals somewhere else. His whole 'woe is me' vibe makes it a little hard to focus."
Thor sighed again at his comrade's obvious lack of compassion toward his clearly suffering sibling, but he nodded nonetheless.
"I will see what I can do, Stark."
And with that, he was taking familiarly heavy steps toward Loki, each growing more hesitant than the last as he took in the full sight of him.
It was no wonder that Tony found his presence to be so distracting, because in truth, you could all but feel his angst rolling off of him in waves, strong and undeniably present in a manner that almost made the god himself shiver.
It was not easy for the god of mischief, what he was going through, but perhaps even Thor himself had managed to underestimate it.
Perhaps he should have been even more concerned than he already was.
"Loki."
He said stiffly upon his approach, watching as the god in question briefly glanced in his direction in acknowledgement before returning his gaze back to his seidr.
"I sympathize greatly with your sorrows, and I wish truly that I could do away with them for you, but a request has been made for you to better contain your bereavements, if possible, and I think it would be best for you to try."
Thor said calmly, though he could see as plain as day that his words had done no good, a fact made evident by the way that his brother turned to look at him, as if both wounded and infuriated at the very same time.
What a familiar look that was for the mischief god to wear these days.
He stood, green cloud disappearing as he did so, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.
"Do you believe somehow that I have not already done all that I can to contain my grief, you blithering fool?"
He all but hissed, anger controlling his words but a deep and pervasive sadness evident in his eyes, allowing the god of thunder to see far beyond the ruse his sibling was attempting to put up.
Loki was hurting, perhaps beyond anything that he had endured before, and Thor was unsure if that could have been made any more clear.
The god of mischief took a step closer, slowly, threateningly, as if he might frighten the being standing before him, the only one present that had ever truly seen the good in him, the angel before the fall.
A trickster to be sure, but the villain that he so desperately tried to make himself out to be? Thor could not see such a thing, not in the eyes of one he had grown up alongside of.
Not in his brother, regardless of blood.
Regardless of what was said or done.
"You haven't the slightest clue what I have endured, and yet you have the gall to request that I reign in my pain, as if it is not all that has been left of me? All that has not been so crudely taken?"
He snarled, coming closer, ignoring the heavy gaze of Anthony Stark as it landed upon him, and choosing to pay no mind to the fact that he had undoubtedly called the others in, a fact made clear by the large number of footfalls that grew nearer and nearer by the second.
Maybe Tony was simply a fool made cautious by what he had seen the god do in the past, or maybe he just wished to not be the only audience for this particular spat.
Either way, it mattered not to Loki.
The god in question was far too tired, far too angry, and far too confused to let such a disrespect as this pass.
If they did not understand, then he would make them, and maybe then they could comprehend the realness, the immense depth and crushing weight of his pain.
The burden he bore.
The reaping of what he had sowed long ago, without even realizing it.
The universe had never been fair, not to him, and it was apparent now that such a truth had persevered from the very start.
Back before his title had meant more than a whisper to him, before he had felt the need to prove he was more.
When there had been so much more kindness in his heart and light in his life.
When there had been hope,
When there had been you.
Thor put his hands up defensively, though how secure he truly felt in spite of this almost entirely symbolic and pleading gesture was made clear by his tone, which was pitying in every sense of the word.
"Calm down, brother, I meant no disrespect. I simply feel a deep worry for you, I do not want to watch you suffer any longer. It is a heavy weight upon me to know that you are so burdened."
He said appealingly, eyes full of a type of plea and concern that, once upon a time, might have caused the god of mischief to think for a moment, and perhaps even halt his actions altogether.
But now was not then, and after all that he had seen, all that was now and could have been, he found that his brother's words only served to make him angrier.
"You feel a heavy weight, do you?"
He said darkly, stalking ever forward, even as Thor backed away slowly with each step, not wishing to see his family member trapped in a cage once again as a result of some petty fight.
There was rage in Loki's eyes now, though it did nothing to cancel out the sadness there.
It was clear what was driving him, but even more evident was how upset the god was about that fact.
He did not like being so controlled by his emotions, resented the way that everyone could tell how he was feeling in spite of how hard he tried to hide it.
He had done his best to conceal his sorrows and this was what he had gotten? A request for more, as if he would not have hidden them away entirely in favor of allowing those who were once his enemies to see his weaknesses? The way that truth had changed him?
It infuriated him to no end.
"Can you even begin to imagine then,"
He started, voice low, but just loud enough so that every avenger who had now entered the room could hear it from where they stood together in silence, watching as Loki stalked ever closer to his brother, hands still clenched at his sides, jaw unfathomably tense, and muscles twitching with a quiet kind of rage.
"What I am feeling?"
He finished viciously.
Thor frowned, voice still full of pity and something akin to longing as he replied, tone still entirely bereft of fear,
"I know only what you have told me, dear brother."
He said, watching as Loki all but scoffed at his words,
"So in that way, yes, I suppose I am capable of imagining what you must feel."
The god of mischief laughed in response to this, a humorless and cold sound that was choked by some long abided pain, some endless suffering that only a god could understand, and that no mere mortal could ever endure and survive.
"I think not."
He snapped angrily, watching as Thor's brow creased in response, not understanding what about his reply had been so terribly wrong that it had brought about such a strong reaction from his sibling.
Loki continued,
"I think that if you could even begin to comprehend what I have seen, what I have lost, you would never even think to make an attempt at consoling or correcting me, nor could you ever deign to imagine believing that the small amounts of my grief witnessed through my behavior could be decreased any further. If you could truly understand, you would know the weight that I carry, and you would see that it could never be lessened, because there is truly no greater grief than that which I am suffering from!"
Thor stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before finally he spoke up once more, voice slightly smaller, though still not lacking in compassion or empathy.
"Brother, I beg you to help me understand better so I may communicate this suffering of yours to those around us who do not know you as well as I. We are guests here on Midgard, and I cannot allow for you to push this pain of yours onto our hosts so endlessly without solution or a shared understanding in mind. How can you expect anyone to have faith or sympathy for you if you will not tell us what has happened?"
Thor's pleas caused yet another round of laughter to burst forth from the god of mischief, though this one was less pained and a bit more angry, a twinge of eagerness to it that did not spell out anything good, not for Thor nor any of the unwelcome audience present within the room alongside them.
"You wish for me to let them see? For me to grant you understanding?"
Loki hissed out, a familiar and volatile energy filling the room as he began to use his seidr to do just that.
"Loki-"
Thor warned, moving to take a step forward when suddenly, the entire room seemed to disappear beneath his feet, and without warning, he found himself in a place entirely unfamiliar to him, standing amongst his peers in a small crowd that occupied some unseen corner of whatever space this was.
He watched as Tony turned to look at him, frustration and confusion etched into his features and mouth opening to speak just as a familiar voice cut through the silence.
It was Loki, but not the one that those watching had come to know.
No, this was a Loki long forgotten by time and entirely unknown by the avengers present to witness this dream that the god of mischief had once so vaguely described to his brother while in the thralls of his pain.
This was the vision that the gods had shown to the adopted son of Odin during his imprisonment within the Avenger's tower months prior.
This was where his sadness, his grief, and his longing had stemmed from.
And it was clear, as they all watched on, why that may have been.
It was beautiful here, wherever here was.
The sun shone through every window, and this place, clearly a home, was adorned with stunning textiles and masonry, each detail obviously considered and brought to life with such care and intention that it could bring one to tears if they focused on it long enough.
Thankfully for the onlookers though, this would not be necessary, because the Loki in question who stood before them made for quite a distracting sight.
He looked younger here somehow, features untouched by some pervasive strain or anger that had long since gotten to the man that was so well known to them now.
His expression was peaceful, happy, so devoid of the angst or maliciousness that many were used to seeing.
This version of Loki, whoever he was, and whenever he had existed, was one that did not yet know the things that he did now, one that had found something that his truest self had not.
Happiness.
And it was clear, as this version of the god of mischief spoke, where that came from.
"Dearest Starlight, have you the faintest idea of how much I've missed you?"
He muttered into the hair of the woman standing before him, one arm wrapped around her while the other cupped the back of her head gently, lovingly, and with such fondness that it almost hurt to watch
This was a man overcome with, and undoubtedly changed by love.
They could see it in his eyes and the way that they lit up when the woman, whoever she was, moved away slightly to look up at him, and in the way that he pressed his forehead to hers with such love and clearly intentional gentleness.
He adored this person standing before him, and judging by the tears brimming in Thor's blue eyes, she was far more than a simple dream, or someone made up by the mind to have and to hold.
No, this was someone that they had known, perhaps long ago, perhaps yesterday, for the timing itself mattered ever so little.
What mattered instead, was that this individual, whoever she was, meant the world and more to the very person that the onlooking crowd had once believed to be devoid of the organ capable of love and affection.
She was important, and she was special, and above all else, she was seemingly a vast source of grief for the two son's of Odin, though one in particular far more than the other, the latter of which stood amongst them with a sadness that was almost assuredly not for himself evident within his gaze.
Thor may have known this girl, whoever she may be or have been, but his tears were not for his own loss of her, no, they were instead for Loki's. He watched the two of them with such rapt and sad fondness that it was all but impossible to deny that fact.
He adored what the two of them shared, and mourned its absence.
And in truth, the unwelcome onlookers could not help but feel similarly.
This woman was beautiful to be sure, with shining hair and twinkling eyes, and a gentle touch that she laid upon the deity standing before her with such care and devotion.
She smiled up at him lovingly, mouth still curved upward even as she spoke, her reply teasing, but far from mockery, mischievous in a way that was befitting of any love of Loki Laufeyson.
"Just me?"
She asked amusedly, carting her fingers through the god's soft black locks and watching with gentle laughter as he simply rolled his eyes in response before he leaned down to kiss her sweetly without a single word, the arm that was still wrapped around her waist tugging her closer before he finally pulled away a few seconds later, joy obvious within his expression, in spite of her ardent teasing.
"Do not ask me such foolish questions, my dear, or I may just be required to seal your lips against mine for all eternity to keep you quiet."
He murmured with his forehead pressed against hers, his nose brushing against her cheek for a few moments until he pulled back with a sigh,
"I suppose I should change before I make myself at home again, hmm?"
He asked with mock exasperation, tucking a few strands of the woman's hair behind her ear as she laughed in reply, nodding almost immediately.
"That would most certainly make me a happy wife, indeed."
She said, pulling further away from him before walking over to the kitchen area and removing something from the oven,
"Now hurry up and change before dinner gets too cold, foolish prince, or you may just find Thor helping himself to your portion again."
Loki gave an amused glare in response to this, but said nothing more, wandering swiftly down a long and dark hallway until he faded from view entirely.
After this, there was silence for a minute or two, a peaceful and joyous one that was occasionally interrupted by the sound of the woman's gentle humming, or one of a few a small noises from further down the hall, none of which seemed important enough to capture the woman in question's attention.
That being said, as Loki returned, something else did, though it notably grabbed hold of that of the audience as well, who stared on together in shock, though Thor was clearly the most baffled of them all.
For there was Loki Laufeyson, adopted son of Odin, Prince of Asgard, and god of mischief, with a child on his hip, one with hair the very color of his, and eyes that were an exact copy of his own.
The woman standing in the kitchen crossed her arms upon her husband's entrance into the room, raising a brow at him as she sighed and approached the two beings who had just graced her with their presence.
"And what business do you believe our daughter has with being up so late, Mr. Laufeyson?"
She questioned teasingly as she pressed a gentle kiss to the head of the little girl who was being held so affectionately within her father's arms, a sweet burble of laughter escaping her as the woman's lips tickled her skin.
The audience watched on in utter shock as Loki smiled softly at the sight, his shoulders shrugging slightly as he bounced the child, who appeared to be around a year old, upon his hip, arms keeping her steady with a well practiced and easy grace found only within a parent that had been present and involved enough to know their child like the back of their hand.
"I believe she has business with welcoming her dear father home regardless of the hour. Would you disagree, Mrs. Laufeyson?"
He murmured gently as he leaned forward to press a lingering kiss against his wife's lips, smirking at the sight of her reddened cheeks as he pulled away.
The wife in question sputtered for a brief moment before finally responding, glaring slightly up at the god of mischief for his antics, though they were no doubt familiar to her by now, judging by the ring wrapped around her finger and the child she had so plainly bore that sat now upon her husband's hip.
"I suppose not."
She replied gently, watching as Loki placed the child into her high chair, offering a toy of his very own creation to distract her with as he approached his spouse with a rather eager grin.
"No?"
He asked softly as he moved to stand behind her, his hands finding her shoulders and massaging the tense muscles there gently, his smile only growing as she sighed at the feeling and leaned into him with a practiced ease borne clearly of a long nurtured trust.
"How kind of you to see things my way for once, dear wife."
He murmured against the shell of the woman's ear, sending a shiver down her spine even as she rolled her eyes in response to his overly teasing tone and his seemingly ceaseless need to make an attempt at pushing her buttons.
"I wouldn't go as far as to say that, my prince."
She sighed out, still clearly pleased with the feeling of his hands rubbing practiced and efficient circles into her skin,
"I am simply allowing you this one small victory while you may still have it."
The god of mischief smirked upon hearing this, his brow raised and his voice low as he replied,
"Allowing me, hmm? What a benevolent ruler you are, starlight."
He all but purred out, and the woman nodded absently, still clearly wrapped up in the feeling of his hands on her body.
"Aren't I?"
She asked, a smile growing upon her face as she spoke,
"Allowing you to wake up our one year old daughter upon your return before you're forced to cease such childish behaviors once your son arrives in a few months time. How generous of me."
Loki hummed and replaced one of his hands that had been resting upon her shoulder with his chin, allowing his now free hand to travel down to her stomach, pressing against it and providing the opportunity for the onlookers to note for the very first time the way that it was rounded out slightly with child, yet another piece of evidence of the love that they shared.
A love that the Loki Laufeyson that they knew, the one that had been captured, imprisoned, and seemingly rehabilitated, had never known.
A love that he perhaps could have had, if only things had been different.
Slowly, faintly, at the sounds of softening laughter and contented discussions, the scene before everyone faded, and the harsh light of the tower persisted once more, blinding them all sharply in a way that the softness of the vision had not managed.
And there, before all of them, stood Loki, looking more than a little haggard with his hair out of place and his eyes brimming with tears.
It was Thor who spoke first.
"It was that which you saw, brother?"
He asked sympathetically, only for Loki to shake his head in response, tone far less angry and much more despondent as he spoke.
The sight of that vision, that memory of a dream delivered unto him one harsh evening to teach him some horrible lesson, had clearly hurt him far more than he wished to let on, and perhaps even more than he had thought it would.
"No."
He said,
"What I saw was far worse, I'm afraid."
Thor's eyebrows creased with both concern and confusion,
"Worse? Brother, I do not-"
"I had entire life with her, Thor."
Loki murmured gently, staring down at his own two shaking hands as if in disbelief that they belonged to him at all,
"I-I had thought truly that everything, all of this suffering and self-hatred had been the real dream all along, and that my time with her, beginning from back when we were all just children again, was reality."
He looked into his brother's eyes then, and allowed him to see the pain there, the sadness and longing for a life he had once believed himself to have lived, a life where he had chosen differently, and found better.
"I did everything the very same as in this lifetime, except instead of choosing power, or some poorly perceived form of acceptance at the hands of our father, I chose her every single time. I married her, brother, stood at the altar and watched her come to me, watched her be granted her rightful immortality at my side, built a house with her, for her, gave her a daughter, and a son, and many other children who I cannot bear to think about because I am in ruin over the fact that they were never real."
He paused, chest heaving, eyes never leaving those of his brother before finally, he continued,
"I know their names, Thor."
He choked out,
"The names of my children, every son and daughter born with some combination of my eyes and her smile, or her hair and my nose. I know their favorite foods, the toy they prefer over all of the rest, and the song that their mother would sing to put them to sleep the fastest."
His tears were beginning to run now, though if Loki noticed, he did not move to wipe them away or to hide them.
"I know everything about them, and yet they are not here, never were, and never will be, and it feels like I have lost all that I ever deigned to love. My wife, my children, a version of myself that I did not loathe, they are all lost to me, and I have died a thousand deaths for every waking moment spent without them by my side."
Thor's own eyes had grown teary now, and he stepped forward slowly, his arm outstretched, as if hoping to reach into his brother and take this pain away with his bare hands alone.
"Dear brother, forgive me."
He said softly, voice shaky in a way that was so very uncharacteristic of him,
"I did not know, I swear it."
Loki shook his head, some shadow of a smile, pained and without any semblance of joy finding his face,
"I know, Thor."
He said quietly,
"But do not waste your apologies on me. It is not your fault for not truly knowing, but mine for believing I could have her back again. She is gone, and I should have known that I could only ever have her in dreams."
Thor opened his mouth to speak, his expression flooded with sorrow, only to find that there was nothing that he could say.
The bridge to you was one that his brother had burned a long time ago, which had been lying in embers since.
Was he not right that you were largely gone from him? A memory of perhaps undeserved yet so very innocent love that he had shut out in order to keep moving forward until the gods had thrust what the two of you could have been upon him so cruelly?
It had been ages now, since Loki had seen or heard of you, and Thor was ashamed to admit that he too had locked you away in memory in favor of moving forward.
A childhood playmate, a most loyal friend far past adulthood, the once almost-lover of his mischievous younger brother, you were a great many things to him, and yet he could scarcely bear to think of you now.
Betrayal was what he had once thought of whenever you came to mind, but now, so many years later, he could see that you had never been the one to betray.
It had been him all along, him and Loki, albeit for two differing reasons.
Either way, the little witch they had once both known so fondly had been long dead to them for many moons now, until the very sight of you so happy, so alive, in spite of the fact that such a vision was a dream brought on by some vengeful deity, sent you careening back into their minds once more.
Where were you now? How had you fared without them, and possibly without your family as well? Were you even alive at all, after all of this time with only a witchling's feeble immortality to keep you alive rather than the godly kind that Loki had helped to bestow upon you within his dream?
Thor shook off these thoughts almost as quickly as they came, and watched on helplessly as Loki began to make his way toward the exit, eyes glued to the ground to avoid making eye contact with the small group of Avengers who had continued to watch on in surprise.
And perhaps, one of them may have piped up to say something, anything to provide comfort to the once so pesky god, had it not been for the sudden shift in the air, followed shortly thereafter by the very shredding of reality itself, as a tear opened up on the far wall, revealing a dark shimmering swirl of colors and lights that soon spat out a figure adorned in clothing that may have appeared foreign to any Midgardian, but was so very familiar to the one aesir god who stared on in utter shock.
Loki, on the other hand, seemed either entirely unaware of the strange circumstance occurring behind him, or uncaring of it, as he continued on his quest to leave the room entirely.
That is, until a voice so familiar that it all but snapped his heart in two called out to him.
"L-Loki?"
It asked weakly, strained and soft, but just barely loud enough to reach him where he stood.
The average man may have froze up entirely, disbelieving their own ears and blaming their minds for playing such cruel tricks on them, but Loki was no average man, and he did not believe his mind capable of making such a mistake.
He knew what he had heard.
He turned around instantly, already wide eyes growing wider when he found you on the floor there, an old cloak of his wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
"Starlight?"
He breathed out in utter disbelief, making his way over in just a few long and intentional strides before he all but collapsed to his knees in front of you.
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charg3rs0ck3t · 10 months ago
Text
Best left unread
(Alt title: A story at its end)
Loki x reader angst!!!
Tw: Death, angst, probably ooc, violence, description of injury.
((Unedited))
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——————————————————————
Perhaps our love belongs in a book, yet its entirety would be a tragedy, that I was the only one not to see.
A book so monotonously sad that you might as well just close it on its first page because you already know its end, my end.
A book best left unread.
——————————————————————
You met him first in youth. A library of all places and a quiet little boy living in a shadow. A boy who did not even need that of which cast it to make him feel inadequate.
Your friendship came in its strangest form, a hand held out to him in silence. It was easy making friends as a child, a mere gesture of acknowledgment was enough to ensure company.
“My name is Loki.”
The quiet words that were the starting pistol to the race of your demise.
Months were spent like that, his quiet nature had made him much reserved. But, you met, day in day out, met until you could read him like an open book, till his careful blunt words became beautiful soft calligraphy. Each chapter a new story to unravel, a new challenge to face and a promise to each other to last the test of time. Time seemed only a villain.
He introduced you to his brother and to his mother. There you met his shadow-caster. The adored Thor, strong and worthy. In his blue eyes, there found no trace of Loki. He was a bare, sterile, glowing hallway and Loki was a cozy library at its end. Their contrast was straining, dilation from the glowing potential of Thor to the self assigned defeat.
So childhood memories consisted of him, of helping him, of stocking his hypothetical shelves full of stories of eachother and their adventures, of calm moments and dreams, of secret escapades, of hope.
You wanted to give him a chance, a chance to relight the flame every child should have. You didn’t care if he destroyed the shelves and burnt your stories if only it would allow his flame to grow stronger.
Naive. You were naive.
————————————————————————
Then you grew, teenage years grew steadily upon you. It was here that the first sign was missed
You didn’t do enough.
He became bitter and resentful despite all the work, his brother soon facing the brunt of his angst. You assumed perhaps it was rivalry, a natural tendency and that his rationality would sink in, that he would become his own person.
The books were what kept you both alive. You kept meeting in that library. Books allowed for you to live hundreds of lives, but the longer you read, the sooner you came to find that no book would allow you to live a future with him.
——————————————————————
"Please.. you can't do this.. you know you shouldn't."
You plead with him, but what does it matter anymore, why should he listen to you. His heart was unreachable, unreadable, how could you ever understand.
He hurt people.
Something broke in the boy from all those years ago, something you could not fix. Although perhaps he loved you, still.
Perhaps he found solace from his thoughts in the place were he was anything but himself.
But it is hard to love another, when you are not yourself.
——————————————————————
The day he destroyed New York, was the day the red could never wash out of his ledger. There was simply too much damage, to the world, to innocents, and to his mind. He was different.
His imprisonment left him dark. The library was no more, but that did not stop you from going to him.
Perhaps it was in a delusion, that he would see error, that he would come back.
But he didn't.
——————————————————————
"Why did you do it..?"
You ask one night, back to the glass, you knew his face well enough, to look at him was to admit he was no longer yours.
"Because I could. Why else?"
He's a liar, a good one, that much is obvious, but that doesn't stop a tear rolling down your cheek. Perhaps he sees, or simply knows, because he does not go on. Perhaps he loved you back, once.
"I'm sorry"
You manage out, refusing to let him hurt you. Instead wanting to hurt him, to be angry, not physically, you have no strength enough to beat him in any duel, but you want to hurt him.
"I'm sorry that I was not enough for you. I'm sorry that you crave such chaos. I'm sorry that I cannot fix you."
Many will learn of Romeo and Juliet. Perhaps ponder the stupidity of it, the monotony of the same reused story, a destiny set in centuries old script.
Death.
You allowed your soul to die for him
Yet morbidity granted a vision. Now it is easier to see, perhaps the concept of destiny is a metaphor, a warning. A lesson to the lovers who were never meant to be.
Shakespeare himself knew your fate and yet you believed somewhere in a selfish heart that you could have him. How childish you were, are, were. The only dagger used was the shard formed by your own actions and his poison was his own dear nature.
For the first time, you allow yourself to debate the possibility that his heart can no longer love amidst such hatred and it stung as an infused knife.
His antidote was his loveless heart, but for you? Perhaps the poison he came to be would have easier to treat then the wounds of a blade, especially one you forged so blindly.
The words likely meant nothing to him, not yet, but they would, you knew they would, because life is cruel. The words line an end of a chapter, a book best left unread, unfinished.
But of course, that is not how books work. There is always an ending.
——————————————————————
Bitterness grew in his absence, something destructive. What was there to be delicate about when all that surrounded you were the reminders of him and his betrayal.
The world fell upon such darkness that there was no net to save from its pull.
If it was chaos he wished for, it was chaos he would get.
It allowed you to wonder as well, does his heart still pain for you as yours does? There was a certain hope, a certain bitterness. Yes.
Because, In this tale of Romeo and Juliet, you were the only one to die. Not quite so literally, but a souls death, one who never asked to become cruel is granted some bitterness.
As the body of your old mind rots and its body caves, in this dark coffin. You pray he thinks of you.
You don't pray to any god, no. But instead pray to an inevitable hell that you'll meet him there. That he is forced to love you for eternity as the monster he’s made, because even still you loved him as the monster he was before.
It would have been a fitting punishment, one should think.
You hurt people, destroyed lives, broke hearts, all for it to come to the end of your home.
There was nothing to fight for anymore, no home to go back to. No tangible thing to place the bitterness anymore.
Something seemed to set in place.. something needed to change.
——————————————————————
Life was hard, with asgard destroyed what life was there to live.
What life but to live among the midgardians, and so that is where you were, living a life, a librarian of all things, a place that so dearly reminded you of the one thing you could not have.
A love not bound by him holding another's affection, but by his selfishness.
A hatred that no love could heal.
——————————————————————
There was no doubt in the signs that he was there, that he would come, watch, perhaps something remembered a childhood, something he lost, perhaps he remembered his blame, his sorrow.
But oh how life was to destroy him.
He was to learn why, why we tell tales. Why stories of morbid tragedy live on.
They live on as warnings.
——————————————————————
Something about a beautiful infinite sky made you feel all the more forgiving as you head laid on a warm lap, glancing up at the face you see whenever you close your eyes.
Or perhaps it was the large shard of shrapnel jutting from your stomach, or the large puddle of blood that began to pool from below your back, staining his legs a foul sickly red.
Perhaps an active war zone was not the best time to share apologies, but it didn't seem to matter, neither of you could say a word.
Your hand reaches up, the blood staining your fingertips, but it hardly matters, he does not care that it leaves harsh prints on his face, he moves to cradle it, to push his face into a warmth that he hasn't felt in years, a warmth that is quickly fading away.
You look, into those eyes, into the world you built together, the shelves of stories, of lives, all seemed to have an end, and end for you both, so why did this have to be the one reality without.
You try to imagine our library, between the shelves and the dust, the ink and the letters, finding the souls that burned in leather bound tomes and scripts. Finding the words that were written but never read, words that told you your end, and end in the land of the lost.
Tears welled in his eyes, but you couldn't focus, he was warm now.. that shouldn't be right, he had never been warm before. Or perhaps, it was that you were colder than him.
For he was your tragedy, a rotten Romeo, but maybe you were just as bad. Perhaps you were the Lady to his Macbeth, perhaps it was a hand crafted tragedy, made by the blood stained hands that now grasp one another in desperation.
Perhaps this union was despised by the very fates three. For together, it seemed to create the greatest tragedy, one that tore a heart and scattered it within centuries old tales, so that he may never hear those names without thinking of us.
He knew, he knew you, he knew this tragedy well.
How ironic it was.
How ironic that you were led there dying, and he was to die soon thereafter.
How convenient it would be that as his throat tightens in sobs he is raised up by it, his feet hanging limply as your head hits the ground.
What had he to fight for?
This was fate.
This was just another story at its end.
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lokisprettygirl · 2 years ago
Note
First I just want to say that I absolutely love how you write Loki! If you are taking requests, I would love to request something with sweet subby soft Loki feeling anxious or overwhelmed by something the Avengers are doing in the tower, and needs a safe quiet place to get away from it all. Que best friend of Loki who happens to be a domme stepping in and helping him relax (in more ways than one *wink*). Bonus request for mommy k!nk, sensory play, and lots of good old fashioned cuddles. Thanks!
Thank you for requesting dear, it's been a while that something else other than my own series inspired me. I gave it my own take as usual but I hope you'll enjoy nonetheless. Thank you for enjoying my writing ❤️
Sub Loki x Best friend Female reader (Friends with benefits with a happy ending)
Warning: 18+, Smut, unprotected sex, sub Loki, mommy kink, praise kink, blindfold, other kinks, feelings of anxiety and panic state, a mild angst between characters
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Being an Avenger wasn't easy, no, Loki wanted to retract that thought, being an Avenger sucked at times
While as a prince when he was on the battlefield at the least he knew that the war would come to an end someday but this job? This journey to redemption that he had put himself on was never ending road and sometimes it got him. It also didn't help that ever since Thanos had taken him he had developed this huge Anxiety that prodded him over any trivial things.
"Once I get the view I'll signal Loki to teleport at the sight" Captain said at the meeting and Loki just nodded at the response.
"Loki you'll walk to the safe and we don't have access to the passcode just yet so you'll have to take the safe and hide it" Natasha said and he nodded again.
"Once we are in the facility, Perhaps Loki can do his mind tinkering thing, I mean I don't see why we have to go through all that trouble if we have him? Are you listening to us?" Tony asked him and he nodded again even though he was close to hurling his guts out. The voices were starting to fade in the background. As soon as the meeting was over he scurried out of the conference room and braced himself against the nearest wall he could find, he felt as if his heart would explode and he would cease to exist any moment.
And then he thought of you, the girl he had been in love with hopelessly since he saw her, but also the girl who always reduced him to being just her best friend. Sure they had their thing on the side, a little arrangement that pleased them both from time to time when the tension between them got too much but as soon as the act was done he always found himself craving for more, he needed you, he wanted everything with you. He wanted you.
You were almost done with your day when you received a message from Loki so you picked up your phone "Can we meet?"
A smile crept on your face as you got the text, you saw him almost everyday but these were the type of texts that you knew will push you two in the little arrangement you both had on the side. It wasn't easy though, being friends with benefits with God of mischief himself wasn't something you desired, if you weren't so terrified of having your heart broken and lose a dear person again you would have taken this further and deeper with him, you would have put your heart on your sleeve again for him but you were terrified.
If someone like Loki was to break your heart, you knew you wouldn't survive and come out sane on the other side.
"Pepper, can I go?" You asked your boss so she smiled and allowed you to leave for the day. Instead of going into your room you went to Loki's instead and knocked twice. As he opened you were hoping for him to grab you and kiss you like he normally did whenever he had all that pent up sexual energy that he needed to let out but instead you were met with his sullen little face,
"Something wrong?" You asked him as you entered and closed the door behind you, your arms wrapped around his waist and he immediately placed his head down on your shoulder. You then brought your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to comfort him, he seemed stressed, you had seen him like this whenever he used to get a nightmare and would come to your door so you'd talk to him but this was different.
"I can't do this, I am not fit to be an Avenger darling" he said softly as he pulled his head up to look at you, his eyes were teary and lips so close to yours, he cupped your cheeks but he didn't kiss you, he never made the effort until he knew you had the same thing on mind, he never wanted to cross a line with you in the moment even though you both had no silver of decency left between you.
So you kissed him indeed, it was soft and romantic, a lover's kiss even though you both were anything but that, you were not lovers.
"Why would you say that, my sweet boy? You're doing so good" you whispered softly and the nickname immediately made him want to curl up against you, the voice you used on him melted every inch of him, in every possible way. Your fingers curled around his neck as you kissed him again, your tongue swiped over his lower lip and he lunged to take you in his mouth but you denied him the pleasure,
"You're thinking too much aren't you?" You whispered softly but your tone was authoritative and he knew where this was going. That's exactly what he needed at the moment.
"I can't stop ..it's too much, i uhh–" the words caught up in his throat as your hands caressed the bulge in his pants, he was hard the moment you had him in your arms.
"Shhhh calm down for me alright? I'm here baby I'll take care of you okay?" You walked with him until he had hit the edge of the bed and made him sit down,
"Blindfold?" You looked him in the eye and the look of worry was now replaced with desire, he always made you feel as if you were the only woman in the universe who could ever bring out that look in his eyes. Only if you weren't so broken yourself you might have taken the leap of faith. He conjured a piece of cloth that was made of the finest silk so you tied it around his eyes, as soon as his vision was gone he held onto your waist as if to find something familiar to hold on to in the darkness. You still had your work suit on and that always made you look bossy, which was perfect for moments like this.
Grabbing the hem of his t-shirt you pulled it over his head, the sight of his gorgeous ripped physique made you bite on your lip involuntarily.
"You're so pretty, have I ever told you that?" You asked him softly as you laid him down on the bed. You had indeed told him that, a millions of times, that was one of the first things that made him want to be submissive with you, the way you praised him always made him feel so weak for you.
"Mommmy please..I need you" he whined desperately and you felt the instant twitch in your cunt as the heat started to build up. As said before, the lines of decency were crossed a while ago.
Perhaps it was the need he had to be coddled by a feminine woman, perhaps it was his own mother who never ever showed him such motherly love, or maybe it was just purely sexual, the forbidden nature of the kink that made him want to address you like that or it was all of it, you didn't care really, you enjoyed it when he got so whiny and desperate for you, when he got so sensitive that only you could take care of that itch he had. You knew enough about the god of mischief to know that he wasn't the type of man to do this with just anyone.
He trusted you. He relied on you take care of him in his most vulnerable state.
"I'm here sweet baby boy, I'm right here..okay?" And you trusted him to show this side of yours too. Before you met him you never had this urge to dominate a pretty little boy like him but as soon as you had your eyes laid upon him, something had awakened in you, this incessant need to ruin him drove you crazy.
You took his shoes off and then the pants followed, the sight of him all naked with just a blindfold on was almost too much to bear, you wanted to go crazy on him but that's not what he needed tonight, he needed love making, even though you weren't sure if you were supposed to use that word with him. He wasn't your lover.
You took your skirt off, the sound of your zipper being pulled down perked up his ears, he was imagining it all in his head, he had sensitive senses due to his heritage even in his normal state so when one of the senses was deliberately deprived, the other ones heightened even more so. He heard the sound of your skirt dropping on the floor and as soon as you took your underwear off he smelt your arousal in the air and he wanted to bask in your sweet scent.
You crawled on the bed and on top of him before you sat down on his thighs, your wet lips drenched his muscles instantly. As soon as your fist wrapped around his cock he couldn't help but thrust his hips forward, he must have looked obscene but he didn't care, he never cared how vulnerable he was being when he was with you.
"Mommy can I touch please..please i need you" he mumbled and then he bit on his lower lip in anticipation so you grabbed his hands and placed it on your bare thighs so he ran them up and down slowly, the moan that escaped his throat as soon as you allowed him to touch you was sinful, he treated you like a goddess that he was blessed to merely put his hands on.
You gave him a slow stroke and every time you did he thrusted his hips into your fist, fucking himself slowly and intimately, his abs flexed and relaxed with every thrust, that v line defined with every move, his mouth remained open as the sensations began to build in the pit of his stomach. He was a beautiful beautiful man, truly a god in his true form.
You loved him so much it was unreal. And that's exactly why you couldn't have him, he was unreal, he was too good for you. Or that's what you thought.
You let go of his cock and pulled him up by his hands so he was in a sitting position, lifting your hips up you sunk down on him slowly, his head lulled back as he found himself surrounded by your warmth, you were always so tight, so constrictive and he loved being suffocated this way.
"Tell me how does this feel my pretty boy?" You asked him while unbuttoning your shirt, his hands sneaked inside the shirt and unclasped your bra, once you were all naked he placed his head down on your breasts and breathed in deeply. A small growl emitted from deep with in his chest.
"Feels so good mommy, so good, I have missed you, don't ever leave me untouched for this long again" he mumbled incoherently and your eyes teared up at the intensity of his words. .
"You deserve to feel good baby, you're an Avenger and you're the strongest of them all–" you mumbled to comfort him, you hadn't forgotten about his anxiety and the reason why he was so tensed.
"Someday I'm going to ruin it I know, like I ruin everything..I'll ruin it"
"No you won't..you won't, you never ruin anything my precious little boy, you're perfect, absolutely perfect" you pressed your finger on his lips as you rode him back and forth, the sweet whimpers that escaped his mouth was delight to your ears. You took the blindfold off and as soon as his eyes met with yours he kissed you. His lips trailed down and sucked on your neck, making sure his lips would leave an imprint for days to come.
"You won't fail Loki, you're doing so good baby, i know it feels too much at times but you just have to stop thinking about everything at once and focus on what's important and what's the first thing that you have to tackle the next day, you hear me?" He nodded as you said that before his lips latched onto your nipples and he sucked on it.
"You like that?" You asked him as you picked your pace but his mouth never unlatched from your nipple, he focused his attention from left to right and then vice versa but he didn't want to stop.
"Yes mommy, I love… you"
He whispered almost inaudibly and your heartbeat raised, well even more than it should have while you were having this mind numbing sex.
"I love you pretty baby…cum for me now, fill me up, mommy needs your cum inside her" he exploded as soon as those filthy words infiltrated his ears, the way you clenched so tightly around him as you rode your own high was milking every little drop of release out of him. If he could choose to never leave this room, if he could choose to stay buried in you forever he would but you never wanted it, you never wanted to change the arrangement. He placed his head back down on your bosom again and you leaned your head on his own to calm down your own breaths.
"We need a shower" he chuckled as you said that and in a moment he was off the bed, with his cock still in you as he took you to the bathroom. As he pulled out of you under the running water, you both watched his cum seep out of your cunt and run down your thighs.
These are the things best friends shouldn't do, not at all.
"Are you feeling better?" You asked him softly so he leaned into you to kiss you but you pulled away and he sighed.
"Yes thank you darling" you smiled and walked past him to grab a towel then you wrapped it around your body before you moved back to the room, you wanted to get dressed and leave, once the night had ended you both will go back to being friends like you always did, it was never awkward with him because none of you made it that way.
He followed soon after and you already had borrowed a tshirt from his closet to put it on, it reached your thighs and your room was just a few steps away from his so you didn't want to put on your work clothes again just to walk into your room where you'll have to change it again.
"I'll give it back tomorrow" you said to him as he pulled a brief over his long legs and he hummed in response.
"Hey champ, you'll do good tomorrow okay, you'll be just fine and I'll be seeing everyone going crazy after you once you're back from this mission" you walked towards him and hugged him to wish him luck for tomorrow but he didn't say anything, he was just staring at you "Good night" you tried to leave but he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to his chest.
"Did you hear what I said to you? Did you hear me telling you that I love you?" He said to you, his eyes bored deeply into you and you couldn't escape this time even if you wanted to, he had never been this assertive before.
"Did you hear me responding that I love you? You're my best friend, we both love each other and care for each other, that's what it is Loki"
"Is that all I'll ever be to you? Are you telling me you just see me as your friend?" He asked you softly, his voice sounded so sad so you sighed.
"It's not going to work lo"
"How do you know?"
"Because I don't expect a man like you to stay loyal to me, too many temptations around you and I don't want to ruin our friendship, do you want to do that? Do you want to lose me as a friend?" You asked him and tried to walk away but he grabbed you by the shoulders to pull you closer again, he might be a submissive baby in bed but you knew how he was outside of the bedroom and you loved that side of him too.
"Our friendship was ruined the moment you decided to bed me sweetheart, I'm tired of running away from this, from our feelings for each other"
"Loki–"
"I haven't touched another woman since you came into my life, even though you weren't to claim as mine i did give myself to you completely the first night i buried my cock inside you" you looked at him a bit shocked and a bit pleased as he said that but your fears remained.
"What if someday you're bored of me and done with me?" You asked him , the nervousness evident in your voice, he had never seen you so vulnerable before, atleast not when it comes to your feelings towards him. He held your cheeks and kissed you softly, his thumb brushed over your lips and then he kissed you again, it was tender and romantic, it was the most romantic kiss you have ever had with anyone really.
"What if I was to ask you the same?"
He mumbled against your mouth and you shook your head..
"The fear of what will happen in the future shouldn't stop us or ruin our present my darling, perhaps we will talk about this in the morning? Stay the night with me please" he spoke softly, he just wanted you to stay for once, he didn't want you to leave after blessing him with such pleasures, he wanted to hold you and be held by you all night long.
"Sleep with me" he mumbled again as you didn't respond so you got on your tiptoes and kissed him deeply, he picked you up in his arms and laid you down on the bed before he snuggled you like a baby.
"What if this is a mistake loki? I don't want to lose you too, you're the only person in my life I can be myself with, you're my only friend lo" he held onto you tightly as you voiced your fears to him. He wished there was a magic word he could have said that would have eased your nerves somehow but he didn't have anything, he just had thousands of years ahead of him to prove to you that he'd never hurt you like that.
"And you're my one and only girl, my only woman that I feel safe with, you think I'd ever want to lose you? Perhaps you should think again" a smile formed on your lips as he said that. You allowed your fears to backtrack for the night, maybe you just needed to take a final leap of faith.
And deep down in your heart you knew that this time around you won't fall on your face, this time your man will be on the other side to catch you.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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mcufan72 · 1 year ago
Text
Hello everyone!
After writer's block and some changes in my life (mostly good ones), I'm finally able to write again. I can't believe that the last lines I wrote for my Loki fics were in July/August 2023. Unbelievable.
Here is my new multi-part fic!
It's a modern AU, I will use MCU characters and facts incorrectly and Loki will be as I want him to be. The Multiverse is open and I do what I want. Those who have read my other stuff know what I mean. So if you don't like it, don't read it. This story will contain morally grey stuff (or not, I don't know. What exactly is morally grey? But nothing too bad happens here or without consent. It's still a love story), fluff, angst and eventually smut…so 18+ only, please!
I also use random names/characters, they have nothing to do with the MCU, they're a product of my fantasy. They are inspired by real-life people and also the plot might be inspired by real-life experiences (not every part of the plot, please keep that in mind). So please don't steal my stuff, use your own experiences and let them inspire you. I also did some research but without a guarantee of completeness and accuracy.
Here is the first chapter of my new fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. 💚
Sugar and Cinnamon
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Loki x female reader / 18+
Chapter 1
Preview here
Warnings: none so far, contains fluff, angst, and smut (eventually), it's a slow-burn love story.
“I leave."
"Yeah, good. Go home and get some rest. I don't know when I'll be back. Might be late. “
“That's not what I meant.”
“Then explain.”
“I leave the company…and you!”
“It's just a phase, darling. Take a few days off and then everything will be fine again.”
“You really don't get it, do you? It's not a phase.”
“No one screws things up with me! Not even you! ...you have six months.”
3 months later
Damn! Just damn! You were late, like always. You were permanently struggling with keeping places in time and today it wasn't any different. It was pouring rain since you had left your apartment and you were nearly completely drenched from head to toe and of course, you had forgotten your umbrella. The only protection from the rain was the high collar and the hood of your coat. You hurried through the streets of Manhattan, melding into the people who crowded the sidewalks. The city's smells and noises were engulfing you, uncountable different languages and accents were hitting your ears. On every street corner was music, played by street entertainers who tried to grab some money from the people passing by. Car horns were honking, and brakes were squeaking, the sirens of ambulances or police cars drowning out any other sounds. The whole city was buzzing and glowing, a permanent noise filling ears and streets, echoing between amazing skyscrapers. But you loved it, this was your hometown and you have been living here for five years now. You wouldn't stay here forever, surely not, but for now you would stay.
On your way to your appointment this afternoon you accidentally bumped into someone because you held your head down to keep the rain away from your face. “Hey, watch it, girl!” a manly voice scolded you. You apologized with a hasty: “Sorry”, and continued your way unimpressed. Somehow you managed to cruise fluently through the masses of people and cars and reached the building you wanted to go to right in time. You passed the doorman, who gave you a friendly smile, and the security men in their black suits in the reception area, who greeted you with a short nod. They looked much too good for your liking but you couldn't deny your attraction to tall men with broad shoulders in black suits. You had a soft spot for this kind of man. The rainwater that was dripping from your coat was wetting the floor of the entrance hall and with an apologetic shoulder shrug and a heartwarming smile on your face towards the security men, you headed for the lift.
*****************
How much Loki hated the weather today. Fortunately, he had his umbrella with him so he was protected from heaven's water. The pouring rain, the crowded sidewalks and streets, the deafening noise. He was living here in New York for over twelve years now but it seemed to some things he would never get used to. He surely wouldn't stay here forever but for now, he still had to. Normally he wouldn't go out on the streets when it was raining like this. No one would go out voluntarily in such weather. But he got a call from a negotiating partner, who asked him to meet him at a café in the early afternoon to inform him about a few details. And some conversations were better made personally than by phone. The meeting wasn't a long one and his conversation partner Mr.Miller had already left but Loki was still sitting in the café, sipping on his espresso. “Damn it!”, he murmured under his breath, annoyed about what Mr. Miller had asked of him.
Mr. Miller was an extremely old-fashioned, elderly man and he told Loki for his next event, a business dinner, he would like to see him with a female companion. Every other guest would bring their significant others too, there wouldn't be just the dinner, there would also be some dancing afterwards and how sad it would be if he were there alone.
“Please, bring your significant other, too. I don't accept a no!” Mr. Miller insisted.
Loki knew exactly when it was better to not discuss a negotiation partner's wishes and so he agreed. Sometimes you have to make concessions if you want something to be successful. Now a solution had to be found. Loki didn't have any female friend he could take with him on such a date. It must be someone trustworthy, someone who could be silent as a grave, someone who could keep secrets. In the best case, someone who did it professionally. He would never ask any of his former affairs, not to talk about that his last affair was some time ago. He pulled out his mobile phone and did some research. Over the years he'd learned to appreciate his phone as a daily companion. Using apps on your mobile phone made your life easier and finding a solution for nearly every problem was easier with it as well.
Shortly after starting scrolling through several websites, he found it. The solution to his problem ‘how to attend a date with a female companion’: an escort agency. Professionally escorted by a well-educated woman, intelligent, sophisticated and with perfect manners, professionally obliged to keep silent. That was it, the ultimate solution to his problem. Of course, he had to meet the woman he wanted to book for that upcoming event, first. He had to ensure that she was the right one and if she was suitable for such an event. He had no other choice so he gave it a try. He called the agency he had chosen and described what he wanted and what was required in every detail to the polite and friendly lady he was talking to. It sounded like she was smiling on the other end of the phone and it gave him the good feeling of having made the right decision.
“Okay, Sir. I'm pretty sure I already have the right lady for you. Have you heard of the ‘Vivian's Velvet’ nightclub?”
“Yes, I did."
“Fine. Then you'll meet her there at the bar at 8 pm sharp. She'll be waiting there for you.”
“How will I recognise her? I mean…”
“She'll know who you are. Please send me a photo of you and then I can forward the image to her. Please don't get me wrong, Sir but we handle it this way because we want to guarantee our ladies a way out in case they want to refuse a meeting for whatever reason and at any time. Even if they are already at the nightclub. It's for the safety of our ladies. I hope you understand.”
“I do. It's what your ladies deserve and I respect that.”
“I'm glad to hear that, Sir. Thank you for understanding. Would you please give me your name so our lady can address you correctly?”
Loki hesitated for a second. In his business sometimes it was advantageous to use an alias and he would hold on to this tradition here.
“My name is Luke Larsson.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Larsson. If you have any questions or if the lady I've chosen for you is not for your liking, please don't hesitate and let me know. I'll look for a new lady for you then. We aim to satisfy you completely at any time. And please don't forget to send me your photo, Mr. Larsson.”
“I'll send it immediately.”
“Of course, Mr. Larsson and I wish you an enjoyable evening. Thank you for choosing and calling us. Goodbye, Sir.”
“Goodbye, Ma'am and thank you for your excellent service.”
“You're welcome” and with that, the call ended.
He did what was required of him and he sent the agency a photo of himself. To book a lady at an escort agency was an expensive matter but money was no object. He had called the best escort agency in the city and only the best was what he needed.
He paid his bill and left the café. The streets were still crowded, rain was still flooding the streets and slightly ruining his leather shoes and his slacks. On his way back home a hood-wearing person with a lowered head, drenching wet from the rain, bumped into him. Why couldn't people watch their way, he thought angrily.
“Hey, watch it, girl!“ he scolded. He wasn't sure if it was a woman, he just assumed it. He barely heard the apology of the person and he immediately regretted his harsh words. He turned around to apologize as well. But the person who ran into him had almost completely disappeared in the crowd. He could just catch a short glimpse of the shoes the person was wearing. ‘Nice colour’, he thought and disappeared into the crowd himself. In a few hours, he would meet the escort lady who probably would accompany him to his next business dinner.
***************
With a ping, the lift's door opened on the 25th floor where the agency had its office. The word REA was written in large, finely curved golden letters on the big white, opaque glass door, right above the golden door knob. REA was the acronym for Rhea's Escort Agency and you had to ring a doorbell to get in. The interior was simple but very elegant, bright and inviting at the same time. Smooth jazz music played in the background and created a comfortable atmosphere. A large white leather couch was invitingly positioned close to the floor-to-ceiling windows, framed by exotic green plants and a coffee table. Behind the front desk sat Rhea, the owner of the agency, on the phone, talking to one of the other escorts. She beckoned you with her hand getting over to her. After you approached her desk, she opened her mouth with a soundless dismay when she saw you in your dripping wet state. You could just smile at her with a shoulder shrug. You took off your drenched coat and hung it on the coat rack. Shortly after, she ended the call and rounded her desk to hug you.
“Jeez, girl…look at you. What happened , dear? Did you take a swim and forgot your towel?”
“Kind of.” you answered and laughed.
“Sit down, lovely. You must be freezing. I'll get you a towel and a hot drink. Some Tea?”
“Yes, I'd fancy a cuppa“, you said with a sigh of relief and you were glad to drink something warm now and to dry the front part of your hair with a towel.
“Here, darling “, Rhea said when she came back from the restroom and kitchenette which were both located at the back of the office, invisible to clients.
“That's much needed now, thanks, Rhea. You're my saviour.“ you answered with a thankful smile and took a sip of your tea before you began to dry your hair. You immediately felt much better. Rhea sat down again in her chair opposite you and opened the appointment calendar on her laptop.
“I'm glad that you made it to the office, y/n. The weather is really horrible today but I needed to see you personally.”
“Did something happen? Did a client complain? “ you asked concernedly. You hoped not, you needed this job and you always gave your best.
“No no, don't worry, darling. Everything is fine and that's what I wanted to tell you. Every client you have escorted so far has been happy and satisfied. You're booked up for this week except for the weekend, as you wished. So based on your successful dating and our clients’ satisfaction, I can offer you a higher hourly rate.”
“Oh, really? Oh thank you so much, Rhea, that really means a lot to me. I need every dollar I can earn.” You meant it, it was the undeniable truth.
“I know, dear and you know you could increase your income further by being booked for the weekends as well.” Rhea reminded you.
“Yeah, I know but I need the weekends for personal matters. Those are important too, I'm sorry.”
“Don't be sorry. Your personal matters are surely important and I know it's none of my business. But please let me know whenever I can do something for you, okay?” she said softly.
“No one can help me, I'm afraid. But thank you for your kind offer, I appreciate it,” you replied, well aware regardless of how much you'd work, even if you worked 24/7 you still wouldn't earn enough money to solve your problems. But you had to try and that was what kept you going.
“Okay…so…are you spontaneous, dear?” Rhea asked you while looking for her work mobile phone on her desk.
“Ahmm…yes”, you answered hesitantly.
“Good, because I got a request 30 minutes ago and already made an appointment …and based on the requirements of our potential new client I think you perfectly fit him.”
“Okay, where will I meet him and when?”
“At 8 pm sharp at ‘Vivian's Velvet’. Walker will drive you like always. It is more a casual meeting with our client to get to know each other so please dress appropriately but not too chic. Classy will do…a black cocktail dress would be fine.”
“Yeah, no problem. How does he look like and what's his name?”
“Waaaiiit…ah now…sent you a photo “, Rhea explained and a second later your phone vibrated with an incoming message.
“He's eye candy, a jackpot, a real cherry on top, the icing on the cake…and his voice…he could read the phone book to me. But the most important thing, he sounded nice. Maybe a bit arrogant but nice.” Rhea gushed.
“A jackpot you say? Let me see…” and with these words on your lips, you opened the file. You nearly dropped your phone. Black mid-length curly hair, a beautiful blade of a nose, a chiselled jaw, prominent cheekbones and a mouth you just wanted to kiss. But the most impressive were his piercing blue eyes which seemed to look deep into your soul.
“Wow” was the only thing you were able to say.
“I told you” Rhea laughed, fully getting your reaction towards the beauty of this man. “His name is Luke Larsson. I'm sure you won't miss him.”
“Absolutely not. How could someone miss this handsome man? Luke Larsson…is he Norwegian? “
“I don't know…his accent sounded more British. So you're willing to meet him? “
“Oh yes, I'm looking forward to it. I'll be at ‘Vivian's' at 7.30 pm so I can wait for him there.” you confirmed.
“Fine, dear. He booked you for two hours. When I get the drinks bill from the bar, your hourly rate and your share of the drinks will be transferred to your bank account…as usual. Enjoy the evening, dear. And tell me how it went, okay?” Rhea asked you.
“Of course, I'll let you know.”
After this enjoyable talk, you headed back home quickly. You had less than two hours left to get prepared for the meeting with Mr. Luke Larsson.
In less than 20 minutes Walker would arrive at your apartment to drive you to ‘Vivian's Velvet ‘. Walker was your chauffeur and was responsible for driving you safely to a dating location and back home again afterwards. In case you would spend intimate hours with a client, he would wait in front of the hotel. For your safety and to drive you home after the intimate encounter. Walker was 56 years old, a rock of a man with a buzz cut and a beard. He was an imposing figure, always dressed in a formal suit. But he had a heart of gold and you always felt safe when he was around. Knowing he was always close by when you had an appointment with a man, made you feel even safer. You knew he had a soft spot for you and he would always be there for you, no matter what. Somehow you were like a daughter to him but if you were his daughter he would never allow you to work as an escort.
You were almost ready. You were wearing a simple but elegant black, midi cocktail dress with sleeves in black lace and black high heels. With your hair parted in the middle and pulled back into a sleek tight bun, which sat deep in your neck, you created an illusion of long straight hair. You grabbed your purse from the wardrobe and after a final inspection of your appearance in your large mirror, you left your apartment.
“Good evening, y/n. You look wonderful tonight “. Walker was waiting for you in front of your house and opened the door of the black limousine with tinted windows for you and you let yourself slide into the backseat of the car.
“Thank you, Walker and good evening.“ you replied with a smile on your lips.
Walker closed the door, entered the driver's seat and drove you to ‘Vivian's Velvet’. It was one of the most exclusive and most expensive nightclubs in Manhattan with a luxurious interior in black and purple.
It was close to 8 pm and you were waiting for your date. You were excited about how he would be if he really looked that good and if you would fit his expectations. You ordered a glass of champagne to calm down your nerves a little bit but it would be your only drink tonight. As always, because you must remain in control of your senses. It was a golden rule. The men you dated were supposed to drink alcohol, lots of it, not you. It brought additional money to the hourly rate of an escort. The more they drank the more you got. The only thing that brought the most additional money was having sex with them. But it wasn't a must and you weren't interested, not in the slightest. But the day might come when you had no other choice and maybe one day you would feel a carnal desire again that needed to be satisfied. But you wouldn't do it with everyone. It had to be a special man with a special aura and he must give you kind of a feeling that you were safe with him.
A few minutes later, at 8 pm sharp, you felt someone standing behind and then next to you. A hint of a delicious scent hit your nostrils and a sizzling energy filled the air, making your skin tingle.
***********
When Loki entered the nightclub, there were already four women sitting at the bar, their backs turned towards him. Two of them were in the company of a man, two were sitting there alone so one of them was supposed to be his date, he assumed. Because he didn't know what the woman he had booked looked like, he went over to the bar and ordered a drink, the most expensive Scottish whisky the club had to offer. Next to him to his right side sat a woman on a stool, dressed in an elegant black cocktail dress and black high heels, her hair in a tight hair bun. For now, she ignored him and he wasn't sure if she was his date or not. She looked stunning as far as he could see it. He didn't want to stare at her. But he hoped she was the woman he had an appointment with. She was very lovely to look at. In the corner of his eyes, he saw her sipping at her glass of champagne.
“Good evening, Mr.Larsson. Nice to meet you,” you addressed him with a calm, velvety voice and smiled at him.
“Good evening, Miss… I'm sorry but I don't know your name yet,” he answered softly but dryly.
“How would you like to call me, Mr. Larsson?” You asked him mischievously, a smile curving your lips.
“I don't think I am in the position to give you a name.”
“You're very polite and well-mannered, aren't you?”
You had difficulties maintaining your facade. He looked extremely good in that photo but in reality, this man was beyond beautiful. Inky black hair you wanted to rake your fingers through, broad shoulders, lean muscles, slender waist and endless long legs. All of this gorgeousness was wrapped in an exquisite black suit and a crisp white shirt, the top three buttons undone. You could see a hint of his chest hair which peaked out of the V of his shirt. You felt your mouth watering. He was devastatingly sexy. Now that he was reassured that you were his date he moved a little closer to you. His smell was enchanting. An indescribable mixture of fresh cotton, sandalwood, orange blossom and something spicy you weren't able to specify.
The way he leaned against the bar, his big veiny hand with long, perfectly manicured fingers holding the whisky tumbler, his other hand in his trouser pocket, had something indecent about it. You wanted to rip his shirt open and watch the buttons scatter down to the floor. You should better stop salivating over him and begin entertaining him. That was your job and he was the client you had to convince of you because you wanted him to book your service. You had to focus on your job.
“What kind of escort service do you need from me? How can I be of help?”, you asked him kindly.
He took a sip of his whisky and you of your champagne before he gave you an answer, making eye contact with you and holding your gaze. It made you inwardly shiver.
“I need a companion who escorts me regularly to functions. I'm not interested in flirting with you. I need someone I can have an actual conversation with. Nothing annoys me more than some people and their boring talk. It also should be someone who is discreet and can keep secrets. Someone who doesn't want more afterwards,” he explained, his voice dark and raspy.
“Even if you would want more afterwards I won't give it to you. I'm an escort, not a luxury call girl. I just offer you simple accompaniment, nothing more and nothing less,” you stated kindly but firmly. Good-looking or not, you would never give him the chance to get between your legs.
“I'm well aware of that, Miss”, he replied dryly. “You're an escort lady and this is what I want and what I need. And don't worry, I don't believe in love or anything related to it!”
Loki took a sip of his whisky, his gaze still fixed on you. How pretty you were. Your big bright eyes, your cute nose and your rosy lips were just perfect. Your body was perfectly hugged by your black cocktail dress and your legs with those beautiful high heels at your feet were tempting and he suddenly thought about how good it must feel if they were wrapped around his waist. Loki quickly pushed that thought aside. He wasn't here to live out his lust with you. Also, his past was dark and blood-drenched. And you definitely deserved a better man than him. Regardless of his indecent thoughts, he liked your attitude and your behaviour. A little bit of sassiness, a lot of passion and somewhere hidden deep inside of you, vulnerability and a kind of sadness. Now that he has gotten to know you he wondered how and why you had ended up in the escort agency. You didn't seem to belong there.
“Me neither, Mr. Larsson! I'm glad we see it the same way. I've sworn off men entirely. I'm not interested in a love affair with you.”
“Well, I guess we got a deal, then.”
“Absolutely, Mr. Larsson, we got a deal”.
You smiled at him and you took another sip of your champagne. He gave you clearly and precisely all the information you needed to know so you could get an idea of the business dinner he wanted you to escort him to and you agreed with the conditions. Time flew by so quickly and before you even knew it your appointment with him was over.
“So we'll meet next week? “ Loki asked you.
“Of course, Mr Larsson. Call the agency and make the appointment. It was a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad that I could satisfy you and I'm pleased that I meet your expectations “. You smiled brightly at him. You were still captivated by his incredible aura.
“The pleasure is all mine. But there's one last thing…” You looked quizzically at him.
“I still don't know your name. What should I call you? “
“Sugar. You can call me Sugar.”
🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃
Taglist: (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)
@lokisprettygirl @fictive-sl0th @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fandxmslxt69 @chantsdemarins @justjoanne242 @lovingchoices14 @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger @lokixryss @anukulee @wheredafandomat
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gettinshiggywithit · 1 year ago
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𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬
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Summary: In which you find out loki’s secret and he fears your reaction.
Pairing: loki x reader
Genre: fluff ,maybe a hintt of angst
W/c: 928
A/N: saw someone talking abt jotun loki and my brain went brrrrr.Wrote this at 5/6 in the morning on 0 sleep so apologies in advance!If yall liked it id love to hear your thoughts
Marvel MasterList
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A frost giant.unbelievable.
Loki stood in odin’s vault,hands firmly gripping the handles of the casket. He watched as his skin changed to an icy blue,an equally icy chill running down his spine. The all father had conveniently fallen into the odin-sleep.
“Leaving me when i need him…typical” he said to himself. It wasn’t like he had an audience and with him being the acting ruler,and his mother being in his ‘father’s’ chambers, he needn’t fear intrusion.
The only person aware of his little secret,who was awake anyway, was his mother and he intended to keep it that way.for as long as he could.
Eliminating thor would guarantee him the throne and by destroying jotunheim,he’d garner enough of the public’s love to hopefully keep his throne,should his secret come to light.
‘Does heimdall know?’ He wondered to himself.
‘No matter,He can be dealt with if necessary”
Loki was so lost in thought that he missed the,
“There you are!” You huffed out.
You marched on upto him and noticed he wasnt…himself.
At this sudden revalation, you started taking quieter,more measured steps towards the boyfriend-shaped figure in front of you.
You let out a tentative “loki?” To which he jolted, his hands immediately letting go of the casket and his now-red eyes staring at you with both surprise and slight fear. Not fear of you,but the fear of being discovered.
“Y/n, dont…dont do that.” He said letting out a breath he didn't know he’d been holding in. And when you didn’t reply, instead merely staring at him in bewilderment, he suddenly remembered how he looked. He stumbled backwards, his hands flying to brace himself against the stand of the artefact behind him.
His finger gently brushed against the casket and the fading blue returned once again.
Noticing this, he pulled his hands to his front.clasping them and lookin on at you,awaiting your reaction.
What would you do? Yell at him? Leave him? Threaten to tell the rest of asgard?
All the worst possibilities ran around his head and he began to tear up.
He was broken out of his turbulant thoughts by your hand brushing against his cheek.
He was shocked, to say the least.
Of all the reactions he’d thought up,this wasnt one.
He leaned into your touch,fearing this would be the last time he would feel it,your soft cold hand against his wretched skin.
“What is this loki?” You ask in a whisper,staring at him with not fear,not anger,but wonder and curiosity.
You were now stood quite close to eachother not impossibly so, but quite.
“I-“
“Were you cursed?”
“In a manner of speaking…y-”
“Does it hurt?”
You knew what he was,you’d seen frost giants before so it wasn’t illiteracy that made you disregard his current state.
You really were asking him if he was okay as he stood before you, a blue monster,kin to those you’d fantasised about killing in your youth…
Was this real?
He needed to know it was,so he spelled it out for you,
“Y/N,im a Frost giant.”
He let out in a voice laden with melancholy,regret and was that fear you heard?
“I know” you merely replied as you traced the patterns on his skin.
At this he pulled your hand away and held it.
“What do you mean you know?! Y/N im a monster! Dont you understand!”
Your expression shifted to one of annoyance,another unforseen reaction.
“I understand quite clearly loki.”
“Then why haven’t you-”
“Why haven’t i run out screaming? Cursing you? Why havent i tried to kill you?”
His silence told you that was exactly what he was about to ask, more or less.
You sighed before stepping towards him and placing his hand on your shoulder,he flinched but didn't move otherwise.
You took this as your go-ahead and wrapped him in a hug.
You stayed there for a good three minutes in silence before saying,
“Loki,i dont give a single ratatosk whisker if you’re a jotun.i love you.”
You pulled away at that to look him in the eyes and saw the tears forming there.
As they fell from his eyes,you caught them with your thumb and placed in on tongue.
Now it was his turn to look at you in confusion.
You waited a beat before saying, “for a jotun you cry asgardian tears.”
He smiled at that,scoffing at your antics.
“You’re ridiculous”
“Yeah well im also yours so get used to it” you said as you went in for another hug and this time he hugged back holding you like you were the most precious thing in all the nine realms,and to him,you were.
“Are you sure?” He whispered out,almost like he hoped you wouldnt hear.
“Always.And never forget it” you said,pressing a soft kiss to his lips which had him chasing yours as you pulled away.
“Why did you come down here anyway?” He asked finally realising it was rather odd for you to have come to the artefacts vault;unless there was a purpose for your visit that is.
“Ah yes, Frigga was calling you.” You said pulling away and pulling him by the arm towards the exit.
“Alright then” he said as he let you drag him out of the chamber that held his secrets. You really were something else,and he’d never been more grateful for anyone in his entire life.
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Tag list(open):- @diagonal-queen
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smolvenger · 1 year ago
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A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 21 (Loki x Fem Reader Crossover Series, Court of Thorns and Roses AU)
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Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.
Chapter Summary: You are reunited with your husband. And a new key to defeating Grendel is revealed. Prompting the beginning of several journeys across time in Midgard. Starting in Buffalo, NY, 1901.
Word Count: 6K (make some tea)
Series Masterlist
Warnings: 18+ SMUT! SMUT at the beginning!(Masturbation, penis in vagina sex). Curse Words. Bullying. Mentions of violence. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped my radar. A plot hole that I will figure out how to fill later. Proceed with caution, but I take full responsibility for how I portray dark subject matter and if it is not done tastefully or well. If I miss anything that could be triggering, it is your responsibility to tell me as soon as possible so I can tag it here. Otherwise, enjoy!
DICK-tionary: Smut starts at "Loki....Loki, please, I need you," and ends at “Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded."
Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
Loki carried you to his bed.
 No, it wasn’t just his bed anymore, you reminded yourself. It was your bed. 
Laying you down on top of it, not caring for the stains of dirt and blood on your nightgown, he hovered gently over you. He pressed his lips to yours. His body pressing on top of you. You cupped his face and kept him close. Already your hips touching. You pulled in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him. 
No more fire. No more blood. You needed tenderness. Intimacy. Wanting to forget your name, forget everything except him. To not feel the hilt of a blade. Instead, you felt his hand bunching up your skirt, exploring your leg again as if it was the first time he saw your care skin.
Reaching out your hand onto his, you led it up your body. Your skirt was left as you led him to touch you. You stopped the path on one of your breasts. You could hear the breath in him tighten as he felt it, bunching it up to see how the bodice of your gown was lowering. Wanting to show him more.
“Loki…please…please, I need you…” you begged.
He paused and released his hand. 
“Shhh,” he hushed you.
One of his long fingers traced your cheek, going down from your neck to the collar of your nightgown. A tiny gasp came out of you as he dragged it down.
“No need to remind me, my dear. The way you react when I touch you- I know you need me…”
. You shivered as that one long finger went between your breastbone. His eyes greedily searching for your nipples, perked beneath the whiteness.
“My poor little wife, all alone out there without me…”
He lowered his finger’s trail to your stomach. He then went to beneath your skirt, feeling your leg again. 
“How badly did she miss me, I wonder?”
Going up, just barely before your entrance. You felt your hips buck to him. A smile of deviousness graced your husband’s lips. You were getting wet between your legs, you felt your breath hitch and part of you tremble. Then he removed it.
“What a pitiful little gown you have on. Now that you’ll be in here every night, I’ll have you wearing ones of silk that cover even less. And only for me. Yet this…”
He undid the bodice of your nightgown and pulled it down over your shoulders, revealing your breasts.
“You may as well be naked in this! I may as well…”
He tugged it down and you helped him.  Flicking it off to the floor. With a simple flick, your nightgown vanished and you were naked.
“Well, well- what do we have here?” he teased.
This time his hand caught your bare breast and squeezed it, a thumb over the nipple. You let out a moan.
“Tell me, my pet- did you miss me?” he asked.
“Yes,” you breathed out.
“Did you get wet at the thought of me? Of our little trysts?”
“I…I did…”
He went to your ear, barely kissing it as he whispered.
“Did you touch yourself then?” he whispered.
“Yes…”
He went to your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.
“I would do it…alone…in my room…it would be night…I’d be lonely, I couldn’t sleep…and I would think of you….I’d think of the cabin. When you deflowered me. Then when you took me on the table. Or our wedding night..and I…I…I needed you and…and I remembered where you would touch me, so I…”
He took your wrist gently and moved it to your sex.
“Show me how…how would you touch yourself at night, alone in your bed…” he whispered.
With a breath, you slid one finger in, rubbing it against your swollen clit. You began to strum it at a steady rhythm, your hips moving to it. A moan escaped you. He watched greedily, smiling wide.
Your breath hitched. You felt something rise. You made the strumming faster, opening your legs wider.
“L-Loki- I’d-I’d think of you…think of you and…”
He grabbed your wrist and pinned it above you.
“Wait- wait,” he ordered.
The lungs in your air nearly halted. You were frustrated- so close to release. And here he was, as clothed as you were naked.
“There’s a certain sight you’ve been missing, my dear…and your poor little fingers could never quite recreate what we have here…let me fix both…”
With a tilt of his head, his clothes vanished as well. You took in his strong abdominals, the little dark hairs on his chest, his wide pectorals for his slim frame. His cock- large and so hard it touched his stomach.
Loki leaned closer. He pinned you down onto the bed. You felt his erection near you, grazing your skin, your body. He grabbed your legs and hoisted them up.
“I want you loud…your parents will know who gives their good little girl pleasure every night…I want you loud…I want every person in this castle to hear, and when you cum it’s my name you’ll be crying out- they’ll know who you married to…and no man in that muddy town and no man in that castle can lay hands on what is mine, hm? Because none can make her cum like I can…”
He stopped your hand, raising it back up. He teased your entrance and you felt yourself shiver.
“Loki…Loki please…just…just take me, fuck me- fuck me into this bed…”
He lowered himself. You eagerly pulled yourself and kissed his neck. That was where he was weak. He let out a groan as you did. Your hips met his. Your entrance grazed him.
“Please….just love me…fuck me…” you begged in whispers between kisses.
He hovered right where he would be inside you. 
“Wait…” he rasped. You were shaking, desperate for him.
“Tell me you’re mine…and I’ll give you what you want…”
Part of you froze beneath him.
“Say it!” he ordered sharply.
“I-I-I’m yours!” you whispered.
He smiled.
“Good….good little wife…”
With one thrust he was inside you. Deep, a right angle, hitting past your clit. You moaned out.
“Yes-yes like that- Norns-I’ve missed this-I’ve missed you-Filling you-Feeling you around me, trying to have all of me- and doing it-” he groaned out.
He held up your legs and then slammed his hips in. You let out a cry. His pace increased.
“You-you wanted-wanted to be fucked?! Here-” he said.
With a gasp, he got fast.  He was harsher than when he took your maidenhead in the cabin on a winter’s night. He began to pound into you. Your breasts bouncing. 
“Oh! Oh god-god-fuck-fuck yes-” You cried out.
“Yes, I’m your god- and-and you want to cum, don’t you?” he panted as he pounded into you. “God, you beneath, begging for me-I’m-I’m not gonig to last either-I-”
One hand lowered to your clit, edging you on. The spinning rose. The bed was already hitting the wall.
“Yes-I’m yours- Loki-Loki I’m-I’m going to-to-”
The pleasure burst. A moany, desperate “F-fuck!” flew out of you.
 A sound came from Loki as he too reached his climax and groaned in gradual spurts. As if it grew out of him. His hot seed shooting inside you.
He was panting, his mouth open. His blue eyes opened to look down at you and a smile was on him, despite himself.
“Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded.
Loki released how he held himself and gently lowered on top of you. Not for lust, but for tenderness.  He held onto you and nuzzled into your skin. Hugging him back, you rubbed your fingers in circles against his back. The silence was filled with your souls returning to your body. 
Catching your breath, you released a little of the embrace to look into his eyes. 
“I love you,” you whispered. 
He smiled. No ironic smirk, but a genuine, sweet smile. He leaned into your touch.
“I love you so much I cannot even say a thing right now…” he replied.
“Then don’t,” you said.
Moving your arms back around his body, you pulled him close. Embracing each other in silence, feeling each other’s pulse, and the movement of breath in the other. And not saying one word but basking in the warmth of each other. If there was a Heaven or Valhalla, you knew you had tasted it now.
Minutes passed blissfully. Until you felt your stomach’s emptiness like a knife inside of you. Then you whispered a request into his ear. Loki nodded and conjured soft robes of silk for both of you. 
He opened the door, gesturing for a servant in the hallway to approach him.
“Please bring my wife something to eat,” he asked.
The servant nodded and left. Soon they returned with a meal on a golden platter..
As Loki accepted it, you heard the Servant begin to speak boldly.
“Your parents say there is a crucial meeting in an hour. It’s concerning Grendel. They hope you and the Princess shall be present. It is in the usual room,” he reported.
“Very well. Tell them we shall be ready, then,” he said.
The Servant nodded. Then Loki closed the door and walked over to the bed as you sat on it. He set the platter on top of the covers. With the roasting chicken smelling fresh, as well as noticing butter on the vegetables and bread, you found yourself salivating.
 As you tucked in, you didn’t want to think of how now realms were in danger. How Odin knew Loki’s secret and how he would only have shared glory as a hero. That you had to recover to have your powers returned.
You wanted to enjoy what pleasures you had in your life while you still had them before they could be taken away from you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The servants delivered a change of clothes. You put on a golden dress. Its silky material is soft as skin, making you run your hands on it to feel how it slides cleanly. Loki donned his traditional dark green and black leather. Looking in the mirror, you hardly recognized a face without petticoats. 
“Do I look like an Asgardian?” you asked.
“You’re missing an eye patch like Father,” he teased.
An exhale of laughter shot from you and you smiled at him.  
“Don’t fret- you are royalty now. They should be concerned about looking like you instead,” he assured you.
Loki offered his elbow and you placed an arm around his as you left the room to head to the meeting. Your footsteps echoed down columned hallways.
When you arrived, your husband knocked. Voices hushed from inside and a servant opened. 
How different that little meeting looked with so many more faces inside.
 There was the usual circle of the variants. Thomas talked to Jonathan as they looked over a book between them. Hal and Robert already seated. But now The royal family was added- Odin, Frigga, and Thor. Even Stella sat on a table with her sewing on her lap as Sif stood behind her, one hand on the hilt of the sheathed sword on her hip.
Odin cleared his throat.
“Now, then- let us commence,” The AllFather intoned.
He gestured and everyone standing sat into a chair. They creaked against the floor as people moved theirs. For a second, eyes looked uneasily on him. Beneath the table, your hand reached for Loki’s and he held it.
“It is no longer wise for your little club to face Grendel alone. Especially if he is a threat to our people and our realm, you will need our army, our warriors,” Odin began.
You hated that you agreed with every word he said.
“But the true reason I have called this is because it appears that one of you has made a crucial discovery…” Odin continued. A glimmer in his eye.
He swept an arm to Thomas, then curled his fingers to signal him to stand.
The Baronet smiled. He brought the book out from his lap and placed it on the table.
“My good friends, I have been doing a great deal of research for some time. I wish to assure you, that although my skills in a battle are not quite as refined as others, I wish to be useful in other matters.”
Thomas opened the book and turned the yellowed pages as he continued to speak.
“It took hours of sourcing every book in the archives for information on Grendel. His history, especially any possible weaknesses. Most of them needed to be translated from the ancient tongue word by word. But just this morning, I discovered this.”
He pointed at one specific page.
Everyone craned their neck to look. There was ancient Asgardian text in faded black ink, the lines curving and leaning to the left. You noticed small, detailed illustrations around it of a sword, a crown, a ring, and a mask. 
Thomas looked at Jonathan. The Night Manager pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to Thomas, who read the translation aloud.
“Lo, to great praise of the gods,
Did Wise Grendel, go forth,
Long days did he spend,
WENT he forth across many,
Until the cauldron was found.
His death he shreds into it,
And forth did it birth its trove four.
The black ring, a bloodied sword,
An unkinged crown, and a mask of death.
For dreaded death did he ween away,
And death shadow dark did he peel off,
Placing them forth and upon,
Like weeds upon a ship,
The troves, which he then scatter.
Woe for the man, 
Who in hell and hatred keeps his soul?
For the trove for that great foe.
THUS was Grendel reared immortal,
Reborn, that is, made freshly new.”
Silence followed. Then Thomas continued.
“In layman’s terms, there are four items called Troves that emerged out of the cauldron when Grendel was granted his immortality from it. A ring, a sword, a mask, and a crown. I confess I had to visit Jotunheim for our Prophet friend again and make him an offering. And it is rather convenient he is fond of a good roast chicken!”
The Prophet- how had it been so long since you had seen him? Since he told you Loki was your True Love? You glanced at your husband and smiled at him and he back. Then you turned to Thomas again.
“He confirmed what I suspected. He said the troves were scattered throughout time and in two countries in Midgard, mostly England. Oddest of all…They are located in our timelines.”
Thomas gestured to himself and then to each variant.
 America in mine, A small village in Jonathans, Eastcheap in Hal’s, and, Robert….well, you can guess where the one in yours had been placed.”
Robert turned pale.
Loki placed an elbow on the table and cocked an eyebrow.
“How incredibly thoughtful of him to make it easy on us! It’s so coincidental, we may as well have our names written in that book!”
Jonathan folded his arms.
“If he had access to a prophet of his own, it could be another trap for us,” he said.
“But what options do we have?” Robert asked.
“If it’s a trap, I’ll take Grendel and slaughter him myself!” Thor boasted, pumping his fist in the air.
“It’s easier said than done,” Frigga advised him, placing a hand on his arm to get him to stop.
“So, we must go to each of these places in those times. We must retrieve and destroy these items. And then, we have a key to defeating Grendel,” you recalled.
Thomas nodded his head.
“Is there a city where the ring was found in? You didn’t list one,” Jonathan asked.
“Oh, forgive me, I’m not familiar with the city the ring is in,” Thomas explained.
“What is its name?” Frigga asked.
“It’s a city called Buffalo in the year of 1901. The Prophet said it could be found among the upper class of the city. So I believe that is where we must go- and we all must behave. We all know royalty is one thing, high society is another.” Thomas advised.
Frigga nodded her head.
“If it is the least familiar, then finding the troves in the others shall be easier. You must go there first. And we must find a way to alert the army should there be trouble,” she advised.
“Why, good fellows, let us use that little bracelet! Should it not work when the army of our King can be brought forth? Especially through the gifts of our gracious queen?” Hal asked.
Frigga smiled.
“Yes, if those watches can send the signal, I can summon a portal for the army to go through. We can’t just send all of them over there. Grendel would get suspicious,” she added.
Stella leaned forward, her needlework placed on her lap. She then spoke for the first time since the meeting began.
“I think I’d like to go,” she replied shyly.
“It could be dangerous,” Sif warned.
“Ah, but American Society is dangerous in itself. And not all of you know how to behave among them. Miss Harris, I agree- you would be a natural among them,” Thomas said.
Stella gave Thomas a small smile. Jonathan turned stiff seeing the exchange, a quiet ferocity in his eyes toward the Baronet.
 “Stella knows her way around people. How to talk to them and befriend them. She couldn’t be impolite if you begged her to be. And Aldwinter loved her for that,” you recalled.
“I could help in some ways. Search for it, talk to others to distract them, have them trust us,” Stella suggested.
All of you looked at each other. Thor was drumming his fingernails on the table.’’
“But if there should be a battle!” the god cried.
“Not all battles are with swords, brother,” Loki replied.
“Of course that would help. Sif can guard her. We could use Stella. Any bit of help we can get.” Robert advised. His hands reached to his shirt pocket for a cigarette and finding none, rested on the table. 
“And…I would like another thing, please…” Stella continued.
The eyes were on her. Your friend then relaxed, though eyes were on her. Her voice was brighter with her growing confidence.
“I….I’m tired of always being taken, being hurt. I don’t want it to happen anymore. Could I…could I learn to fight just a little, please? Just enough to protect myself. I don’t wish for any glory on the battlefield, I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just…I want to feel safe. Please,” she requested.
Loki smiled.
“Well then, you are quite welcome,” Loki began.
Sif turned to her.
“I’ll show you. I know how a woman can fight off a man. You’ll have lessons before you go- where to strike where it hurts. And you better pay attention,” she offered.
“She is worth every sore muscle!” you assured your friend.
Stella’s pink lips curved into a smile.
“Thank you, all of you,” she said.
Odin crossed his arms.
“Well, one sorceress in Asgard and another-” his eye went to you. “Sent off to Midgard. With the Princess’s gifts and your proper training, I have a little hope in me.”
You raised your hand to speak.
“Your highness-AllFather-I, I was tricked into eating Kunniger. The poison drained me of my gifts. I’ll need the tea from the Brunhilde flowers in Jotunheim. And enough to drink for at least two days,” you insisted.
Thor perked up.
“Oh! Brunhilde flowers then? Why, sister, then we must fetch them for you! And you shall be back to your magical glory in no time! Why, I should get them myself!” he replied eagerly, beating his fist on the table. It seemed that the table and everyone jumped in response.
Odin nodded his head.
“Then, it is settled. We will have two days- during which I expect everyone who is able to train vigorously. Then, you set forth in Midgard starting with the kingdom known as Buffalo. You all know what you must do- find the troves. Destroy them. Consider this a command from your king.” 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
While unleashing Thor among the upper crust of New York was like unleashing a bull into a china shop, he was useful in other ways.
Thor ran to Jotunheim like a dog released in a field. He grabbed as many Brunhilde flowers as he could and ran back, the tiny purple blooms bunched in his large fist. He brought you forth his prize at your feet. 
For two days, you drank the tea as you watched Sif train Stella. And how odd that this time you were the one watching and Stella was the one training! And Stella in a light brown exercise dress of your time.Different than her typical blue.  dodging Sif’s punches was a sight to see.
Sif led Stella to one dummy and handed her a dagger. She pointed at its neck.
“Strike there and he’ll be weakened.”
She moved her finger to the heart.
“Strike there and he’ll be dead.”
Stella gripped the handle of the dagger with both hands.”
“I don’t want to kill anyone,” she responded.
“Lady Harris, there are men worth killing. Men who will kill you first. Men who’ll do worse if alive- stab it!” she ordered.
Stella hurried forth and shakily plunged the dagger through the neck. Like pricking a needle into a sewing cushion.
“No! With force, girl!” Sif barked.
On the second afternoon, you could summon bits of flame. By that evening, you could hear the gossip of the kitchen maids (which Loki adored hearing you recount for entertainment). On the third day, you could move the items on your vanity around easily. You went to the training grounds and fetched a sword a mile away without moving a muscle. Targets of your own were set aflame easily.
Now it was time, and you could no longer delay. One minute wasted was one more advance Grendel would make behind your backs.
Everyone gathered in the meeting hall. Loki conjured clothes for everyone, for the ring was in Buffalo in the year 1901. The men had their waistcoats and cravats.  Loki in his typical look. A black waistcoat with a green tie, with a black overcoat, a golden watch with its chain around his stomach, and a bowler hat. Thomas donned himself in black. He brought his top hat and placed it on his head. The men all had waistcoats in colors they favored. grey for Robert, a dark blue for Jonathan, and red for Hal. 
The ladies had to have small gloves and dresses as well. Stella’s was sky blue and Sif was in black (though she complained the skirts were tight beneath her breath). Your dress was deep green along with your husband’s waistcoat. 
But what amazed you were the puffed sleeves on the dresses. So within two decades, every lady would have them?! How astounding! You kept eyeing them on your shoulders with curiosity- you may as well attach hydrangea bushes to your person!
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, are we all ready? Not quaking in our little boots?” Loki asked.
There was no time to reply. Not that there was time for hesitation.
 Loki conjured a golden portal and everyone stepped through. Bright colors swirled around you, hurting your eyes so much you had to close them.
Then, as you opened, you saw you were in Buffalo. 
You were amidst the markets of the area, as carts moved about. You craned your neck to see tall white buildings. But the day was sunny with the crisp coolness of morning in the air. You could hear a distant train whistle and the chatter of people, happy for a new day and a fresh start. The city was twenty times larger than your village. The crowds were so thick, that you reached for your husband’s hand to not get lost. He held your own back. And indeed, everyone was dressed similarly to your group, right down to women with puffy sleeves.
All of you walked forward. Sticking close together as people hurried about. You stopped around one building, your feet staying on dry dirt roads far from any possible mud. 
“Well, now, I have one little question. The one plaguing all of our minds right now. I may as well be the one to say it-  how are we going to find one measly little ring in all of this?” asked Loki, gesturing his arms out to the city.
Jonathan put a hand out to him.
“Be patient,” he assured. “We’ll find a way.”
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.
“Are all of you forgetting that I can sense things?” you replied. “Let me do a quick scan,” you offered.
The group held their breath. You closed your eyes and had your gifts reach out.
At first, it was overwhelming. Every smell, sound, and sight attacked you at once. Your shoulders tensed and you winced, but you had that word in your head like a mantra.
“Ring, ring- the cauldron’s ring…where is the cauldron’s ring?”
Taking a deep breath, you let each sensation pass you by. You let the words be your anchor.
Something nudged at you. As soft as a child asking for a glass of water at night.
The ring…there was someone…someone connected to the ring…it was…was…in a building, a few blocks away. 
You opened your eyes, a smile growing on your face.
“Someone has it. They’re in an office building a few streets down,” you reported.
Loki took your hand, leaning to you with a look of triumph.
“My wife, a sorceress and ingenious,” he praised.
All of you hurried forth. You held your skirts over possible mud puddles, glad they’d cover your shoes. Your senses still out like a compass. Finally, a tall, bland-looking building loomed over your party and your senses quivered intensely within you. 
“There! It’s there!” you confirmed with a point of your gloved hand. 
Hurrying Inside, all of you paused. There were numerous rooms and a grand, wooden staircase. People walked to and fro in and out of doors. Ladies adjusted their hats in mirrors and you could smell cigar smoke.
“I can tell there is a hint here. There’s someone… but it’s…it’s hard to say….” you recalled. You were fresh from the poison, and maybe your senses were slightly dulled. You tried to reach out and could sense a presence, but you couldn’t tell what.
“Then rest your gifts, my dear,” Loki advised.
With a deep exhale, you released it, coming back to your neutral self.
“It will do. We have to start somewhere- we can search the building. Ask people, if desperate. Check for a ring.” Jonathan agreed.
Everyone had a scrap of paper in their pockets. An Asgardian artists made sketches from the illustration of this ring. A silver band with a black jewel in the center. You noticed Robert get it out to see it one more time before folding it back in.
“May as well start somewhere, sally forth, my friends,” Hal began, nodding his head.
“I’ll be back to you in an hour,” Loki said. He took your hand and kissed it as a promise. 
The men began to scatter like children playing hide and seek. You saw Robert crudely looking at everyone’s hands and comparing the paper. They went across and vanished into doors all over the ground floor of the building.
You, Stella, and Sif looked at each other.
“Well, there they go,” Sif quipped.
“But who are we to sit about as they do the work? We can check the next floor up,” you asked.
The three of you lifted your skirts and walked upstairs. 
As you climbed the steps, voices were chatting on the second floor. Emerging onto it, you all saw the source right in your path.
There was a small group of women with high chins and flowers in their hats. Society ladies. Their smiles were small and their eyes cold as they looked at one woman standing in front of them. As if not included. Not enough. Not one enough.  
Their victim in question had blonde hair and a little tan coat and dress and hat. You noticed she had a manuscript in her hand that she hugged with both arms close to her chest like a shield. 
One woman in front, who appeared to be the oldest among them, tilted her head and spoke with syrupy venom.
“Oh, we’re having a ball soon, by the way. Not that it should concern you, Edith. With those ink-stained hands, I doubt any gentleman would wish to dance with you. But isn’t that what you wanted, our own Jane Austen?” she said with a smile.
The ladies next to her snickered among themselves.
The young woman- Edith- turned pale and you found her posture tight.
Perhaps it was your unbridled emotions. Perhaps it was the confidence you gained from being turned from lady to warrior and princess and surviving Grendel. Perhaps it was the rage leftover from that marshy town where you made fire burst.
But you could not let them torment this lady- who seemed so small, so timid, so alone.
She wouldn’t be alone now.
Your feet approached them, crashing into their circle.
“And what makes you think you have the right to speak to her like that?” you asked.
Stella hurried forth and went to Edith.
“Why, is it true? Are you a writer?” she asked.
Edith blinked in surprise. 
“Why, uh, yes, I am,” she replied meekly.
Stella made sure she was close. Diverting her attention, not causing any harm. The defense to your offense.
“Oh, how exciting! I must wonder at that- how hard you must work for your craft! How fascinating! I am Miss Stella Harris-forgive the intrusion- and you are-”
“Edith Cushing,” she confirmed.
You took a step closer to them.
“What are their names?” you asked Edith.
“Mrs. McMichael, her daughter Eunice, and their friends,” Edith introduced.
You looked down into the oldest woman’s eyes and she rose to yours without a hint of fear.
“Mrs. McMichael, I do not know what Miss Cushing has done to you- to any of you to deserve this. She is harming no one. She has an ambition and is set forth on it- that is a noble thing. And it is none of your business if she becomes a spinster! Haven’t you considered how hurt she must be when you say things to her?” you spat back.
Mrs. McMichael cocked her eyebrow.
“I must be blunt. Edith is unnatural, as one might say. She must know her place. She always has been. With a mind like hers, of course, no one will want her. We knew it from the beginning. We are simply educating her. She must know her place- how else can a pig know she is a pig?”
You had had enough.
“And going about bullying other people to make your own miserable life feel any better is a place you’re satisfied to be in?” you asked.
You got close, holding yourself restrained. Your hands itching to slap her, which you kept folded. But you looked directly into her eyes and spoke before you could be interrupted.
“Then I must be blunt, too- You wish to find a pig, Mrs. McMichael? Look in the mirror,” you replied.
There were gasps among the ladies. Even a “mother!” whispered from Eunice.
Before any of them could interject, you turned to join Stella and Edith and began to walk away. Sif only took a step closer. 
“Don’t push it. And stay away from the girl- and us,” She warned gravely.
There were gasps. You turned around, hurrying your steps. Your momentum of triumph and anger pushing your little party of four forward. Edith only looked around with as much astonishment as the abandoned snobs. Three new faces looking at her. A lightness on her features for her surprise defense.
“Where are you going?” Sif asked.
“I am headed to the library- it’s up here. I’m meeting Mr. Ogilvie in an hour,” she pointed.
“Let us escort you,” you offered.
Edith grinned and you noticed how warm it was, how beautiful. With her blonde hair and sweet features, she was a pretty lady. Her shoulders dipped and her eyes glanced down at the manuscript in her hands as if it was her infant. She looked back up, beaming.
“I cannot thank all of you enough! Please- what is your name?” 
Matching her grin, you reached out a hand in an introduction. 
“I am Mrs. Laufeyson,” you introduced. It was the last name you and Loki agreed to have when traveling in Midgard.
“Miss Edith Cushing, and?” she turned to look at the dark-haired woman in dark clothes.
“Lady Sif-”
“Er, Miss Sif,” you corrected.
“What brings you here?” Edith asked.
“Buisness with my husband. Miss Harris and Miss Sif are my companions.  Why do you need to meet this gentleman in the library?” you asked.
As you walked closer, you passed a window where sunlight draped down. Warming all of you for a brief minute. Glancing back, you saw the clique of society ladies titled their heads to watch and then went down the stairs with a huff.
‘He’s going to look at my manuscript and consider publishing it!” Edith boasted.
“Oh, how exciting!” Stella replied. 
“! You must have us read it too!” you agreed. Even Sif raised an eyebrow.
Edith guided you all to the door with the library.
“Oh- after the meeting, we’ll enjoy some coffee- my treat! Really! It’s the least I can do- and there’s a cafe next door!” she offered.
Coffee, not tea. Now you knew you truly were in America. 
“Splendid- we will wait outside right for you,” Stella promised.
“My husband wishes to meet me in an hour. Do you not mind him?”
“Oh, not at all. I’d like to get in early- there are a few revisions I need to make before he reads it,” Edith said, looking down at the manuscript again.
“There’s no need for shame. Do whatever you need to do!” Stella replied with a smile. 
Sif did not smile. Though she was quiet, observant of everything gonig on, but her eyes were soft.
“We’ll wait right here!” you assured. 
Edith gave you another smile.
Something in the back of your mind was itching. A bell was ringing loud. You had rested your senses but here they suddenly grabbed you by full force. You stood still, your heart picking up against your ribs as you felt them overwhelm you.
But they didn’t go to the chatter or footsteps or the sunlight shining through.
You felt Edith….her hair feeling pinned to her face, her sweat of excitement beneath her nice dress, her determination to not appear like a frump yet also present of an intellect worthy of respect, equal to a man even…
She didn’t wear gloves. Her fingers were bare, but there was the mark of a tight ring she wore yesterday around her second finger on her right.
She was trying on jewelry that morning. And considered one ring she had. She had put it on. Then decided against it and discarded it away.
A silver ring. A silver ring with a black jewel.
Before you said a word, she slipped through the door and closed it shut. All of you sat on some chairs outside the hall. Your stomach had dropped and you were shaking.
Sif crossed her arms in a huff.
“I don’t see how any of this will get us any closer to the trove!” she complained.
You turned to her, feeling your blood turn cold.
“No, Sif…” you began.
“Why, YN! What’s the matter? There’s a look on your face- something is troubling you, what is it?” Stella asked. 
You gestured for them to lean closer, your voice soft.
‘We haven’t actually dallied…we might as well have found the ring…” you replied.
“What do you mean?” asked Sif.
“Edith has it.”
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