#loki x reader angst

[writingfics-passingtime]

Understanding

~20,300 words of Loki angst and fluff.

Ok, yes, I know this is stupidly long. I considered posting this as two parts but there wasn’t a good place to cut it. To make up for the length, there are lots of tickles in this one 💜

Based on this prompt from a lovely anon, who asked for a storyline where the reader had never been tickled before. This fic is on the more intimate side, somewhat steamy, but not smutty.

Pairing: Loki x female!reader (romantic)

CW: swearing, mentions/depictions of violence and death, reader has a lot of scarring on their body (from combat), sexual tension

FYI: If you want to read this all in one sitting, it will take approximately 1 hour 15 minutes.

Loki didn’t care much for the opinions of mortals.

He well understood his standing in their realm. That he was a boogeyman of sorts, a failed tyrant, someone who’s name conjured a sour taste in the mouth of those who spoke it.

Even though his treachery was in the past, even though Loki had assisted in saving many more lives than he’d taken, the Asgardian Prince did not blame the mortals of Midgard for their reservations. Perhaps he’d blame them if he cared, but he couldn’t say he did. After all, in a century or two he’d be able grace the realm with a clean slate, all first-hand memories of him being dead and gone with the minds of those who’d held them.

Therefore, no; Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odinson, the rightful king of Jotunheim, God of Mischief, did not care if mortals looked at him with fear or disdain. However, late one Thursday evening, he discovered he was not immune to certain looks crawling under his skin.

Several Avengers were returning home from a mission he was not asked to lend a hand in. If Thor had been called away to help perhaps Loki would have questioned it, but he’d realised long ago that not everyone was needed for every mission. It took time to unravel the knot in his stomach whenever he was excluded from something which seemed so obviously suited to his skill set, but the quickest way to be benched was to argue with Stark or Rogers.

Loki would not call himself compliant, nor submissive by any means, but he was, if nothing else, a master in the art of self-preservation. Being stuck on Midgard was dull enough without the tyranny of boredom. So, he simply… played along. With their missions, with their trainings, with their fanciful notions of actually being a powerful force in the grande scheme of the universes. If sometimes that meant staying home, he would.

The returning heroes would often gather for a meal or debrief post-landing, but tonight there was a different atmosphere apparent. Stark had stayed back, and had been locked in the lab for several days. He also seemed particularly on edge this evening. His temperament uneasy, as if he were about to encounter an unsure situation. Perhaps someone was injured, or someone was missing. No. There’d be distress in his demeanour. This was… hesitance.

Stark’s unusual air was enough to keep Loki close to the hangar when the quinjet was due to arrive back. It touched down outside, then taxied in, its pilot indiscernible, perhaps Barton. The underbelly ramp descended and several people walked down it, less chatty than Loki knew them to be.

He saw the familiar casual walk of Wanda and the intentional placement of Vision’s feet. Black tactical boots tucked into navy-blue pants belonged to the stoic-footed Captain, Romanoff next to him with her sneak-like walk. An unfamiliar gait caught Loki’s eye. Their feet, her feet, he quickly discerned, falling next to Romanoff’s in an eerily similar manner.

They brought someone back with them.

The feet kept walking down the ramp in step with Romanoff until an entire body was revealed and Loki took his first glimpse of you.

The lack of shackles around your limbs or bag over your head told him you were not a prisoner and apparently not a threat. Loki folded his arms and leaned against the large double-doorframe everyone would have to pass through to get back to the weapons room to relinquish their equipment. Those who walked ahead gave him polite nods and tight smiles, all passing him by without questioning why he was there to greet them. Perhaps they understood he’d discovered something that made him curious. They were all, still, uncharacteristically quiet.

Loki casted his gaze over to where you, Rogers and Romanoff were standing in a close circle near the bottom of the ramp. All of the footsteps behind him kept fading, save for one familiar footfall. He got closer and the familiar cologne assaulted Loki’s senses. Stark walked past without acknowledging the demigod in the doorway, and the Captain’s head shot towards the approaching scientist.

“Tony,” he said, his voice ever strong and commandeering. His greeting turned Romanoff’s head, and then yours. He saw you look at Tony, then he saw you look towards him in the doorway. Your eyes locked with his for several seconds before you looked him up and down, then turned back to the conversation which now included Stark. Loki stayed leaned with his arms folded, brow lowered in thought and curiosity. He’d never seen them bring someone back like this. And to be greeted by Stark? Were you sticking around?

The possibilities ran through his mind as he took note of your familiar stance and impeccable posture. It was possible you’d always been a part of the team and you’d been deep undercover for the ten months he’d been living at the Compound. Hmm, no. He would have heard your name. Perhaps you were a SHIELD Agent, or a defector of some kind. But you didn’t feel out of place. No, something about you felt all too much like a word on the tip of his tongue. He’d certainly never seen your face. He would have remembered.

After a minute or two of hushed conversation, you nodded and said something that looked like “Understood” before the four of you turned and began walking towards the hallway. Loki held his ground as you approached, even though Stark made some sarcastic comment about vampires and lurking. Rogers chuckled once through his nose at the joke, but Loki could see he, too, looked hesitant. Distracted. Wary.

Then, the impossible happened - a mortal’s look got under his skin.

You looked straight into Loki’s eyes as you approached, scanning his stance, eyeing his hands, his feet, his waist. Loki squinted a bit. You were assessing him as a threat. You were clocking his weak points, checking for weapons and signs of aggression. When you met his face again, the look you gave him made his shoulders tense and gave him the desire to shift from one foot to the other in discomfort. But he did not give you that satisfaction. Your eyes gave him no indication of fear, they did not flash in recognition like every other mortal’s did when realising who they stood before. You didn’t blink and flinch and stammer out his name like a bitter taste you wanted to be rid of. You just… walked on by, breaking your stare to look ahead right before you passed where he stood. Setting his jaw, he turned to watch the four of you retreat, wondering how in the Nine Realms you’d just looked at him like that. Your eyes had told him exactly what you thought of him, and he’d thought it impossible.

You either had no idea who he was, or you did not care.

He couldn’t decide which was worse.

The mystery of the reason you were brought back, and the familiarity of your stance, was explained over the next day or so as conversation buzzed around the Compound.

The team had been on mission in Belgrade, tending to a situation where there was a looming assassination threat against the President. The political situation in Serbia had been delicate, to say the least, and an assassination would destabilise Eastern Europe beyond the threshold of what could be repaired in a year or two.

Romanoff had been undercover at a gala with government officials when she recognised one of the waitresses: you. The Avenger had been wearing a nanotech mask to disguise her true face, but something about the familiarity of her had triggered something in your keen Widow senses. After a lengthy fight between her, you and Wanda, the two women had managed to combine their skills of magic, manipulation and sheer brute force to break past your defences and knock some sense into you.

It was more complicated than that, of course, but Loki had never felt it appropriate to discuss the life of a Widow with Romanoff before. He’d seen her ledger. He’d practically felt the need to wash his hands of the metaphorical blood dripping from her history. When he’d first read of it, when Barton had provided it to him all those years ago, he’d been impressed. It made him think he’d taken the wrong assassin. Though the ledger did not mention the training. The pheromones. The total mind and body control.

You kept mostly to yourself for those first couple of days, and Loki couldn’t quite blame you. The first time he witnessed you venturing into the kitchen with other people in it, the conversation all but stopped. It hadn’t been about you, but it may as well have been. You gave a tight-lipped smile and mumbled an apology for intruding. Wanda assured you it was fine, you weren’t intruding, but the words coming from the still-swollen cut lips of a mouth you’d punched weren’t as convincing as they needed to be.

Romanoff was seen considerably less of for those days, and Loki assumed it meant she was taking time to talk with you, work with you, help settle you in. You didn’t seem particularly thrilled about being here, leading Loki to assume you were probably in some kind of danger. A conversation he stumbled across that same afternoon shed some light.

“We have her to thank for Petrovic not being dead, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Romanoff’s argumentative tone made Loki pause in place just as he was about to open the door to the lab. He knew they were talking about you, so he listened.

“Uh, she changed her mind about an assassination she was going to commit,” Tony fired back. “Should I house every non-murderer in the state?”

“You‘re being ridiculous, you know it’s not that simple- Tony!” She urged and Loki heard his footsteps and his sigh. “She doesn’t want to be an Avenger. She just needs some help to take down Dreykov.”

That name, Dreykov, immediately conjured images of that gushing ledger. His daughter, the explosion, who he was, what he’d done. He was supposed to be dead.

“They’ll be after her now, she needs a place to lay low. But now there’s someone, someone qualified, who wants to work to dismantle the global Widow network. One long, deadly game of catch and release.”

There was a pause. “Alright, what does she need?”

Loki started feeling like it was nearly time for him to make his entrance as Romanoff explained to Tony that you just needed a place to stay, some transport, some weapons, some equipment.

The night they’d free’d you, you told them there were half a dozen Widows disguised at the event and the assassination was going down that night. What’s more, they knew the Avengers were there.

The team managed to free two more Widows from mind control -one of whom was killed in action and the other one absconded. Another Widow was killed, the other two narrowly escaped back to the Red Room. The ones who’d escaped would have surely told of your defection by now. Dreykov would know. Drekyov would know Natasha was involved.

Loki could hear the tension draining from the room as the two Avengers discussed your needs and came to an agreement, even if Stark still sounded sceptical, so Loki entered with a loud interrupting greeting to the scientist saying he was ready to provide insight on that alien tech he’d recovered.

Tony gestured to it over on a table as he bid his colleague farewell. One look and Loki knew it was of Asgard. “It’s a portable bullet mill. Used by factions of soldiers needing to produce more ammunition during travel. It converts asteroids into rounds for their weapons.” Loki kept explaining the technology to Stark, impressed by his own ability to be speaking one thing and thinking of something completely different.

So the freshly-freed former Widow wants to take down Dreykov. You’d barely had your own life for two days and you were already throwing yourself back into that world. Loki couldn’t blame you. Old habits, and all that. It intrigued him, however, that you intended to do it alone.

The following afternoon, Loki finally had his first conversation with you. He‘d come across you in a wayward hallway, your brow furrowed as you opened and closed a few cabinets. After opening a particularly large one, your face fell, then you noticed Loki was close by.

“Where do they keep the shoes?” You asked, closing the cabinet which housed yet another switchboard of the Compound’s operating system.

“Pardon?”

“The shoes,” you repeated. “I need some shoes. I don’t know where they keep them.”

Seeing the earnestness in your eyes, Loki resisted the inherent desire to be insufferably snarky. He knew if he brushed off your seemingly silly question the first time you ever asked, you’d probably dismiss him as a useless source. And he couldn’t have that. Not with his unanswered question about the way you’d looked at him.

“Clothing on this team isn’t standard issue. It is yours to choose.”

“Oh.”

“Come,” he tilted his head and you followed without a second thought. You walked beside him as he navigated through the hallways of the residential building on the Compound, exiting into the sunshine with you still close. He wondered how long it was take you to realise it was foolish to trust him like this. Who knows where he could be taking you? How in Midgard’s name were you so unfazed about trailing along behind Loki of Asgard like a lost puppy?

“Settling in?” Loki asked as he approached the doors of another building.

“No,” you answered honestly. Loki smirked to himself, opening the door for you like the chivalrous Prince he was raised to be. You seemed unfazed by the gesture. Perhaps you didn’t find the need to stop and think about such things.

As Loki approached the desk of a somewhat receptionist, the young uniformed man’s eyes went a little wide when he saw who was about to ask him a question. “Miss Potts,” Loki stated, telling the already-nodding Agent who he needed to see. Daniel, the name tag told you both, scurried away through some security doors and you two were left alone for several moments.

“She’s with Tony Stark,” you said. The way you said it was confident, but still had the hint of seeking validation for your intel.

“Correct.”

“She runs his company.”

“Also correct- ah,” he smiled dryly, but tried to make it look polite as Pepper walked into the room sporting a similar air of general displeasure.

“What can I do for you, Loki?”

“I take it you’ve met your latest house-guest?” Loki gestured to you.

“Uh, yes,” Pepper turned to you, her smile becoming slightly more genuine. “Are you settling in well?”

“Yes,” you lied with a soft smile. Loki bit back a smirk, and couldn’t help but flag your honesty with him as another thing he’d have to ask you about. “Although I’m looking for some shoes.”

“O-oh, okay,” Pepper nodded, but looked confused.

“The woman has no money, Miss Potts,” Loki stepped in to hurry the conversation along. “She needs clothing.”

“Of course,” Pepper instantly softened in understanding, then quickly regained her all-knowing posture and gestured for you to follow her. “Come with me. We’ll find you everything you need.”

As you followed her, you shot a tight thankful smile over your shoulder to Loki before being led through the security doors and falling out of sight. Noticing the smirk tense on his lips, Loki relaxed his features and began making his way back to the Compound.

You didn’t strike him as a particularly trusting person, so the more he thought about it, the more he realised why you had such confidence in being led around; you didn’t see any of these people as a threat. Including him. Which, he still wasn’t sure if he liked or not.

A little reverence for his deity certainly wouldn’t hurt. Nor would a little awe at his power. No. Why did he feel the desire to be impressive to you?

Mortals knew nothing.

Several months later, you appeared to have finally settled in. Loki hadn’t explicitly asked you since that first day, finding the brief conversations he had with you to contain much more pressing matters, but you no longer completely avoided everyone when you were home. You were more likely to join in on a dinner than a movie night, you didn’t shy away from training at the same time as anyone else, but it was rare to get you talking about anything non-work related.

You were away a lot. Safely based at the Avengers Compound, you tapped into your (and Natasha’s) sources and travelled the world in that one big, deadly catch and release expedition. When some intel would indicate Widow involvement in some upcoming event, you’d attend to it. Using a pheromone-based counteragent Banner had managed to replicate from a small sample that’d been recovered, you’d search the world for your sisters in order to help free them of their bonds.

Though, more often than not, you’d return home with an air of defeat. You were mostly doing it alone, and you didn’t have the added benefit of being deprived of fear and choice, so that cutthroat edge had been taken away. You were still keen and deadly, Loki learned as he saw you train, and then eventually heard of you in the field.

The first mission you tagged along on was one Romanoff insisted you’d be perfect for. It required the finesse of two former Widows who could make quick work of a break, enter, steal, replicate, reset, escape. It went flawlessly. Loki hadn’t been there, but he’d heard the stories. The excited stories. The compliments from Barton, the nods of approval from Rogers as he conceded it was a lot easier with you around than it would’ve been otherwise.

As you cupped a mug of coffee in your hands the morning of your return, and smiled politely at their praise, Loki saw the way the smile reached your eyes, but he also saw the way it looked to be a replica of the one you’d given Pepper all those months ago. At some point in the conversation, after Clint asked Natasha about how the new repelling hooks he’d helped designed had worked for you two, you snapped your gaze to Loki. The Prince nearly flinched at the way you seemed to know he’d been looking at you at that point in time. The warm, polite smile on your face, for the briefest second, morphed into a knowing smirk before you sipped the steaming coffee once more.

That look you’d given him held a lot. A lot of questions, a lot of comments.

Do they always sit around and talk about how great things went for themselves after a mission?

You know this is ridiculous.

Seriously, how self-satisfied?

You understand. I know you understand.

He deciphered the meaning behind your look before your eyes left his and you stood up from where your elbows had been propped against the kitchen island. Once the conversation had petered out and most people left the kitchen, you turned to Romanoff.

“Any luck on me borrowing Wanda for that lead in Interlaken?”

“None,” she smiled sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I wish I had more pull over allocation of people.”

“You’ve done a lot,” you nodded. “I appreciate you trying.”

Romanoff gave an affectionate squeeze of your forearm and excused herself, leaving you and Loki alone. He noticed how your face dropped into frustration, and the smallest roll of your eyes, as you leaned back down against the counter the second she stepped out of the room.

“Why do you need Wanda?” Loki folded his arms, leaning against the opposite counter as he peered to where you stayed leaned on the other side of the kitchen island.

“I’m getting my ass kicked,” you muttered. “They’re too-… part of being a Widow is not really grasping that your life is something you can lose. It’s hard to explain,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand, then let out a breath. “Anyway, I’m convinced Nat and Wanda were able to pull me out because of Wanda‘s ability to enter the mind.”

“How so?”

“The antidote, whatever you want to call it, the stuff that Bruce gave me… I think it would work better if the subject‘s mind was already susceptible.”

“Is the antidote not working?”

“I’m having a hard time getting close enough to find out,” you sighed, defeated. “I get that people don’t trust me, but half the situations the Avengers go in to fix wouldn’t even be on the table if the Widow network was dismantled. I don’t understand what’s so hard to comprehend about that,” you looked over your shoulder, measuring your voice, before turning back to Loki. “Widows are effective because they don’t avenge. They’re ahead of the action.” You sat back, lifting your mug to your lips before finishing with, “Everyone here should be on board with coming to Switzerland.”

“I’ll go with you.”

The words left Loki’s mouth before he’d really thought them through, but his chest didn’t immediately surge with panic, so he didn’t let himself regret saying it. You looked taken aback, nearly choking on your sip of coffee.

“You will?”

“Why not?”

“Why would you do that?”

“If you don’t want my help, I-”

“No, I do. I really do,” you nodded. “I appreciate it.”

Less than three days later, Loki found himself sitting across from you at a candlelit table overlooking the Aare River, which had long since ceased glittering with sunset and was now a peaceful reflection of the star-laced night sky.

You gifted a sweet fake smile at the waiter as he refilled your wine in your glass, your cherry-red lips framing a coy flash of pearly-white teeth. Loki looked at your glass as it was filled, confident the waiter was not perceptive enough to pick up the lack of a lipstick stain on the rim. Even if he were perceptive enough, Loki gave him a zero-sum chance of realising it’s because you weren’t actually wearing lipstick. You weren’t wearing your hair down in soft waves either, and you certainly weren’t wearing that long-sleeved black dress that hugged you in all the right places.

Your eyes had called him cheeky for conjuring such an alluring illusion onto you, but when Loki had cast his magic to disguise you two as an impeccably dressed couple dining at the most expensive restaurant in town, you seemed preoccupied with your delighted amazement at his magic. That’d made him happy - to see your child-like smile of joy when your heavy tactical clothing had been concealed and replaced with beautiful black gown.

“I can’t even feel my real clothes,” you’d commented as he‘d led you through the grand doors of the restaurant. Pausing by the maitre d, you turned to Loki and reached up to smooth out his collar. He knew his collar was perfect, but the way your eyes flitted towards the dining area told him you’d done it to have a chance to clock your target. “A table by the window?” You turned and smouldered the host with your gaze, and he immediately nodded in agreement.

That table by the window was close to a man with the last name Dubois. He managed a large charitable trust which was primarily funded by a number of Catholic organisations. So in order to dismantle that trust, and all it did to fund efforts to stabilise regions Dreykov did not want stabilised, Dubois needed to die. But he did not just need to die, he needed to be ruined. His name dragged through the mud. How better to do so, than to find him dead from an overdose in the expensive hotel room he’d purchased for himself and his mistress.

Of course, Dubois was a Boy Scout. An upstanding citizen. Your sources had told you he’d not given into the advances of the strikingly beautiful Widow sent to seduce him. So even though Dubois was here alone, on business, sat in the restaurant at a table by himself enjoying a fine-dining experience, in a mere few days his wife was to receive a call that’d he’d been found dead with evidence of another woman in the room. They’d never find the mistress, but that’d hardly matter. The damage would be done, as would the multi-million dollar funding when the churches needed their names nowhere near a dead, drunk adulterer.

Your time as a Widow had told you there’d be eyes on him always; the One sent to do it was probably here watching. A waitress, maybe. Or that older-looking woman by the window. The bartender, perhaps. Loki saw you scan the room, then visibly try to relax yourself as to not give away your mission posture.

“This wine is exceptional, given Midgard’s usual standard,” Loki commented.

“It’s probably just grape juice to you, right?” You half-smirked, resting a forearm against the edge of the table as you toyed with the stem of the glass. “This wouldn’t do anything to you.”

“Two or three bottles might. But the richness-”

“Oh, far too much,” you frowned and nodded in agreement, then silence hung between you again. Then, Loki caught it. He turned to see a woman a few tables over who shared your stance. Her arm was also resting on the table, her fingers also playing with the glass. She sat up a little straighter and then leaned her elbows on the table with a flirtatious smile at her date. Loki turned back to you, and watched you mimic her perfectly.

“You’ve never done this before.”

“Is it that obvious?” You sat back, looking disappointed at being caught out.

“Were there only certain Widows trained in the art of dinner table seduction?” Loki tried his hand at a playful jab.

You smiled, looking down at the table cloth before examining it between your fingers. “We all learned everything. It wasn’t an option to not be good at an aspect of the job.”

“Yet you’ve never done this before.”

“Maybe the other Widows were just more beautiful.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Caught you. Loki smirked at the subtle blush that bloomed on your cheeks before you reigned it in and smirked back at him, picking up your wine glass.

“Smooth.”

“There’s a reason.” Loki sat back and folded his fingers on his lap, tilting his head down to watch your expression. “Why you never done this before.”

Your jaw moved with the dance of you taking in the flavour of the impossibly expensive wine as you bided your time to think of an answer. Loki knew you knew the true answer, so he was watching to see if you’d share it with him. Then, a genuine distraction caught your eye.

“Shit,” you whispered. “Tatiana. I need to look like not me, Loki.”

“What, right now?”

“Just do it!” You whispered loudly.

“And how were those starters?” You both snapped your heads up to see the impeccably-mannered waiter smiling down expectantly. It was too late. Loki couldn’t change your appearance now. He flicked his eyes to the window in an attempt to check where you were looking, spotting the vague figure of a beautiful woman in a royal blue dress. The movement of your hand on the table brought his gaze back to where you wrapping your fingers around a butter knife and shifting the blade to be concealed against the underside of your wrist.

“Excellent,” you answered, tensely. “Can we have a few more minutes please?” You asked without looking up.

“Of course,” he nodded, almost bowed, then took his exit. Unfortunately, he had been shielding you from Tatiana’s view and the second he moved aside, she saw you.

“Oh, shit,” you breathed out, then grunted and shifted your head to the side as a blade flew through the air where your left eye had been a second before. “Really?!” You growled and stood with the realisation that she was willingly engaging in open combat. Running past Loki, you leapt over a table and took a swipe at your former comrade with the butter knife - possibly the most infective weapon in this room.

The room erupted in a nervous buzz as you and Tatiana began duking it out, taking vicious hits and swipes at each other with any blade you could get your hands on. Loki stood and swiftly made his way over to join the fray, not before pulling out a vial of Banner’s Widow Antidote, ready to subdue Tatiana’s mind. Before he could get far, he felt a viciously sharp pain in his upper arm. He winced, clenching his jaw and turning with fury in his eyes to see the flirty woman, the one you’d copied, in a battle posture with a steak knife in hand. Another Widow.

Loki conjured a blade, finding his injured arm substantially weakened by the depth of her slice, but nevertheless began a duel with this vixen. Having the benefit of observing Romanoff, of training with her on occasion, of seeing you fighting in the training room, Loki had the upper-hand when it came to knowledge of his opponent. Understanding the way she would move, the attempts she would make, he was able to block her stabs even with his half-incapacitated arm. He was trying to not harm her as much as possible, just as you’d asked on the way to Switzerland, but a cry of pain that sounded a bit too much like you made the godly power boil over in his chest. He summoned a mighty magical force to his hand, and then blasted the Widow backwards. She flew nearly fifteen feet before colliding with an empty table and crumping to the ground. As she attempted to collect herself, Loki turned his attention to where Tatiana had your back bent over a table and her hand around your throat.

Before he could intervene, your fingers closed around the first thing they found, being a napkin. You flicked your wrist and lashed it in a whipping motion towards her eyes, causing her to cry out in agony and release you in favour of stumbling backwards, recoiling from the white-hot pain. Instead of wasting time finding another weapon, you wrung the thick white cloth in your hands and slipped behind the temporarily-blinded Tatiana, wrapping the cloth tight around her windpipe and kicking at the backs of her calves to force her to kneel.

“Now, Loki!” You motioned down, prompting him to grab hold of her mind so you could free her together, but suddenly another knife flew past your head. You both turned. That woman Loki had fought being still on the ground, you realised the knife had come from yet another Widow. This time, disguised as a chef. The chef nodded to who appeared to be an elegant older woman at a table with her friend in the corner, and they both stood with far too much dexterity to be as old as they appeared.

The room went near-silent as the innocent people cowered under tables and behind the bar. Dubois sat calmly at his table, casted a gaze up to you and cheers’ed his glass before downing his wine. Loki turned back to you and saw the realisation morph into your features, as you resigned yourself to the fact that you’d be set up.

This was a trap.

Your eyes met his and he could tell what you were thinking. With a forwards wave of his hand you two were suddenly in your tactical fighting clothing once again, and on the backwards flourish he summoned a blindingly bright ball of energy to shoot towards the women in the corner. They dove out of the way in time to see Loki‘s blade fly through the air and clip the thigh of the chef. Sufficiently distracting them, he watched as your heel connected to the place between Tatiana’s shoulder blades and she went tumbling to the ground. Then, you turned tail and ran.

Bursting out of the mountainside restaurant, you and Loki booked it down the dimly-lit driveway, feeling horribly exposed as bullets shot from the doorway whizzed past your head. Spotting a gap in the trees that lined the main road, you ran towards it with the expectation that Loki would follow you. As you broke into the steep forest and began running further into the dark, dense, snow-laden bush, you shouted to Loki to cover your tracks. And so he did, waving his good arm behind him to collapse the snow over your sets of footprints.

After a good twenty minutes of getting yourselves lost in the forest, you paused and leaned over, resting your hands on your knees as you gulped for air. The snow was now nearly waist-height, and it was taking some effort for the two of you to slog through it. Several long moments passed of your panting and sniffing with the cold, until you laughed bitterly and stood up straight. The moon wasn’t full that night, but your features were lit enough through the gaps in the pine trees for Loki to see the dark and frustrated look on your face.

“Well, that source is burned,” you scoffed. “They’ll know where we’re staying. We need to find somewhere to shelter for the night,” you said, then looked up to where the trees had been dripping with snow, dropping frost onto the two of you as you‘d made your way through the forest. “We also need to get dry.”

With his keen senses, Loki looked around through the trees and spotted something over a rocky expanse. “There,” he nodded, you turned around but shrugged.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Come,” Loki beckoned, still concealing your trail as best he could.

The something Loki had spotted turned out to be a small cabin in the woods. The shoulder-height chainlink fence surrounding the darkened property bore a sign saying tresspassers would be prosecuted, and that this house was property of the Swiss Nature Conservatory.

“It’s f-for the people who come out-t here to study wildlife,” you deduced from the sign. “The latch is frozen s-shut, the lights are off, I d-doubt anyone’s here.”

Ripping the frozen gate open, Loki moved with more urgency having heard the frost settle into your voice. He took a final look around as you walked up the wooden porch stairs and located a lockbox which certainly contained a key to enter. Once he was satisfied no one was watching, once his instincts told him you two were alone, he unlocked the front door with a wave of his hand.

“Man, y-you’re usef-ful,” you chuckled as you entered the cabin with him right behind you. Quickly locating a generator switch next to the front door, you pulled the small lever with your cold-shaken hands and a low hum resounded throughout the cabin.

A few wall lamps sprung to life, dimly lighting the small abode. The warm light hit a number of pieces of eclectic furniture, revealing a small, round dining table with three white wooden chairs, and one mismatched grey one. The old tile on the kitchen floor was oxidised with age, but still looked to be mostly in tact. The dust and dead bugs on the windowsills, and the general must in the air, told you both it’d been a while since anyone had stayed here.

The flickering lamp in the living room, which was just an offshoot from the kitchen, revealed a staunch, yet ragged, faded navy blue sofa which sat atop a fibrous wool rug that spanned nearly the entire wooden floor. Close behind the couch were a set of doors, presumably leading to bedrooms and bathrooms. There were only four doors, three on the wall behind the sofa, one on the opposite wall near the fireplace. Ah, thank the gods for a fireplace.

“Is that smart?” Loki referred to lighting the place up while he looked around the tiny kitchen he’d stepped into before closing the front door.

“We’ll t-turn it off b-before we sleep,” you answered. “It’ll be fine f-for now.”

“You need to warm up.”

“Y-you n-need first aid,” you motioned to his blood-soaked sleeve. “I’ll g-get a fire going,” you sniffed from the cold and crossed the length of the kitchen in a mere few strides, shakily breathing in relief when you saw the fire-making supplies were bountiful and plenty.

With a shake of his head, Loki dried his clothing and conjured his shirt away so he could assess the damage without having to tear a sleeve from his leather armour. The cabin was dry, at least, but the air still bit at his skin. Shooting a glance over to where you were gathering your fire-making supplies, he shuddered to think of how cold you must be. You must be numb with it, considering even his frost giant blood was on edge.

The cut was deep and jagged and ugly. The Widow had twisted the knife half-way through, leaving him the gift of torn and stinging skin. He pressed his other hand to the still-bleeding wound and began applying his magic deep into the tendons and muscle fibres which had been unceremoniously destroyed.

He raised his head when he heard you sigh in relief as the spark caught to the kindling. You knelt before the flame, trembling with the cold, and blew gently on the embers to bring them further into life. You worked naturally, flawlessly, as you fed sticks into the fire until you felt confident enough to place a couple of bigger logs around the small flame. Then, you noticeably shivered, quite violently, and let yourself fall backwards to sit on the rug and begin stripping the freezing wet clothes off your body. Loki, still sitting at the rickety table in the kitchen, wondered if he should exit the room, but you didn’t seem phased. You never did when it came to him.

He focused his gaze on the nearly-healed gash on his arm as he heard your jacket unzip, the clunking of boots tossed aside, the peeling of frosty skin-tight clothing away from your arms and legs. He heard your teeth chatter and your breath quiver and then he heard you settle. Finally daring another glance, he looked over to see you huddled in on yourself, facing the fire with your hands stretched towards it to warm them. You‘d taken yourself down to a sports bra and some skin-tight shorts that many Agents wore under their tactical clothing. Your forehead was against your knees as he heard you try to steady your frostbitten breathing. You began to relax, ever so slightly, as the warmth of the flame started to grace your nerves.

He squinted a bit in the low light, not sure if he was believing what he was seeing. Flecks of uneven skin showed in the dim lamp glow. The fire before you poured light onto your front and shadows over your shoulders, and Loki caught the painful memories woven into your skin. Countless tears, gashes, bullet holes, slices, Freyja knows what else, all healed over by your body’s natural process of regenerating. Some scars were so large they must have had surgical intervention to heal them, perhaps even most of them. Several minutes of silence passed as the fire grew and Loki looked on. Unable to tear his eyes away, unable to stop himself from standing, he finally released the magic from his arm to see not a hint of where the blade had sliced him. It seemed so unfair that you should be left with all those reminders. If only he’d been there for each and every one.

After conjuring a long-sleeved thermal shirt, he walked over to you before he had the wherewithal to stop himself from intruding on your space. He reached down and picked up your items of clothing, allowing a green magic to pass over and dry them. You looked up when he did so and smiled thankfully, then managed a dry chuckle through your shivering.

“Y-you c-couldn’t have d-d-done that before I st-stripped-d?” You joked. Loki knew you weren’t upset, so he allowed himself a small smirk.

“My magic was in use, I’m afraid,” he nodded to his now-healed arm and then placed your clothes on a chair beside him. “I can dry those too, if you’d like,” he gestured to the under-clothes still on you. You nodded without hesitation. He would have offered to conjure you more warm clothes, but he knew mortals well enough to know that what you needed right now was the warmth of this fire against your bare skin.

Loki walked over to crouch behind you, placed both hands on your shoulders, and allowed his magic to pass over your body. You shuddered under his touch, but almost rose to grow into it. The simple lifting of your shoulders to add more pressure to his hands against your skin made his breath catch in his throat.

“That felt strange,” you admitted, placing your forehead head back on your knees and sighing again. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Loki smiled, allowing himself to squeeze your shoulders affectionately. You sighed in contentment again, then turned your head, slid your hand over your knee and rested your cheekbone against it.

“Does it leave a s-scar? Your magic,” you asked, eyes fixed on your clean and dry clothes on the chair several feet away. Loki wondered if it was out of a longing to cover yourself back up, but he then noticed his hands were still on you, and that you appeared to be content with that.

“No,” he answered, daring to run his palms over the sides of your shoulders before removing them from your skin.

“I know it’s bad,” you spoke up, breaking the several seconds of silence that had fallen. “I d-don’t see the back of myself all too of-often, but I know it’s bad,” you clarified.

“I’m afraid I can’t do much now the wounds are healed,” Loki offered, wondering if your question about his magic was an attempt to surmount if he could wipe your slate clean. You shrugged with one shoulder, seemingly unfazed, noticeably shivering less now.

“That’s okay.”

“I wish I could help.”

“I’m not upset. Just thought it might be useful.”

Loki shifted to catch some of the fire warmth for himself, half-sitting behind you with one leg outstretched and one tucked underneath. He propped himself up by his hand and tilted his head to catch your eye. “That’s why you’ve never been to dinner.”

“Mmm,” you confirmed, nodding against the back of your hand. “Dinner table seduction only goes so far. Can’t really go undercover into someone’s bedroom after dinner if they can read your battle history when they take your clothes off,” you chuckled sarcastically, then lifted your head from your hand. “Haven’t broken that news to the Avengers yet.”

Loki felt the discomfort surge in his chest at the thought of you being assigned to such things. “The Avengers aren’t quite like that.”

“Not yet,” you sniffed, looking over at the fire. “Just you wait. The second it’s the best option, Rogers and Stark will send Nat in wearing a sexy dress and very little underneath.”

“You’re wrong,” Loki said firmly. The defence of the co-leaders left a sour taste in his mouth, but you seemed to believe him, and that seemed to make you feel a little more relaxed. “If you’re worried about what people would think if they saw-”

“I’m not. I don’t care what people think. Besides, in certain contexts, it‘ll weeds out the wimps.” He saw how your cheeks were pulled into a playful smirk so he let himself smile.

“Romanoff has nowhere near this level of scarring,” Loki commented, scooting himself to be situated more behind you to take another look.

“She got out sooner,” you said, looking over your shoulder from the corner of your eye. “Or maybe she was just a better Widow.”

Before fully considering the implications, Loki gently traced his thumb over a longer scar that began just under your neck and travelled several inches down the centre of your spine. It was thin, impeccably straight. You relaxed under his touch, noticeably so. So noticeably, he let himself consider you’d done it on purpose. To let him know it was more than okay for him to touch you.

“That one was surgery,” you explained, then titled your head in thought as Loki traced another scar close by. It looked almost like a bullet hole, but not nearly as neat. “Unmarked soviet slug.” Loki’s mind immediately latched onto the obvious connection but you seemed to catch the drift before he had to decide whether to speak it aloud. “Possibly Barnes. I haven’t asked.”

“If it was Barnes-”

“I’d probably be dead. I know. But Nat has one of his and she’s still here.”

Loki didn’t allow himself to dwell on the intimacy of the moment, lest insecurity grip either of you, as you let him touch your scars and you offered brief explanations. Sometimes it was a word, sometimes it was a short story.

“I got sliced by a branch of a fallen tree, the wound was wide but not deep,” you said as his finger pressed over a wide patch of scar tissue. He moved his hands, you always spoke.

“South Africa.”

“Another surgery. Kidneys.”

“Friendly fire.”

When he traced three identical lines near the centre of your spine, you paused. He saw your chest heave with a deeper breath and you turned your face more towards the fire. “Torture.”

Loki, before he could stop himself, placed his whole palm against the lines and willed all the magic in him to rid you of this memory.

“It’s fine,” you said, and reached behind yourself to close your fingers around his wrist. If you could feel his magic against you, it must be doing something. He ignored your tugs until he felt he’d done his best, but when he removed his hand they’d not shrunk one millimetre.

He couldn’t fix it. Maybe he could make it right.

“A name,” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

“Mikhail.”

“Where might I find him?”

“I buried him at sea.”

Loki tempered the rage swelling in his chest, not wanting to compromise the delicacy with which he was able to touch your skin. To compensate, he softened his touch further and ran his fingers along a small scar on the back of your lower ribs. As his fingers ghosted over the mangled skin, you shuddered and twitched beneath him. You subtly arched away and made a small noise of grimace, but didn’t otherwise verbally react. Loki felt his brow furrow, and felt a knowing smirk tug at his cheeks as he allowed himself the bravery to try elsewhere.

With less pressure than before, he brought five fingertips to a small collection of scars on your lower back. He grazed his fingers along the tiny cuts that had long since healed over, smiling to himself as you squirmed a little under his touch.

“I’d never think you one to be ticklish,” Loki commented with a mischievous smile curled into his words.

“I didn’t know I was,” you admitted. The casual indifference in your tone made Loki’s brow twist in confusion. You were telling the truth. He chuckled once through his nose and tried his feather-light touch near your shoulder, settling on scar that ran from your rotator cuff to somewhere concealed beneath your clothing. You shuddered and sniffled once, maybe in a small breathy giggle.

“Not one person has ever tickled you?”

You shook your head. “Why would they?”

Loki found himself at a loss for words. He could explain it was a form of playfulness, of affection, often used as an excuse to put your hands all over someone who’d taken your eye. He could tell you it was meant to be a game, to be fun, to punish for cheekiness or that some found it alluring. He held his tongue, knowing any one of those explanations implicated him as someone who wanted to have you close.

He decided on, “It’s a common experience.”

“I don’t have a lot of those.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” he smirked and quickly found the sides of your ribs, pressing and wiggling his first two fingers into the bare skin. He felt you flinch before you crumpled backwards against him and let out a stream of surprised laughter. Your arms had pressed themselves to your sides and a uncharacteristic grin had spread its way across your cheeks. Loki‘s eyebrows shot up in surprise as your shoulders landed in his lap, and he stayed in that surprised state as you made no moves to get away from him.

“That… it…” You seemed to be attempting to describe why you reacted the way you did, so Loki returned your grin with a wide smirk.

“It tickled,” he finished with a warm chuckle. You quirked an eyebrow and started to realise your position. Desperately wanting you to know it was okay to stay where you were, Loki‘s eyes latched on to the scars that laced the fire-lit skin on your belly. Fewer than on your back, but your stomach and sides still had their fair share. He sighed sadly, and you followed his eye.

“You don’t need to feel sorry for me,” you said in a low, reassuring voice.

“You’ve been torn to bits,” Loki‘s face fell. He shifted his hand over and ran his thumb along a jagged scar halfway between your side and your stomach. To his delight, you winced and squirmed, bringing a hand down to grab his. “Alright, I refuse to believe you‘d no idea you were ticklish,” he teased, evading your fingers to flit around the skin as it twitched beneath his touch. You spluttered and brought your other hand down to attempt to catch him. “You’re allowed to laugh,” he teased further. “It’s actually the whole point.” He pinched his hand at your hip on that last word and, after a surprised squeak, you shot a hand to your mouth in horror at the sound you’d just made.

“Ohokay,” you laughed nervously and lurched forwards. “Enough of that.”

As soon as you’d sat up, Loki opened his legs and reached his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. “That’s actually not up to you.” You seemed too surprised by the move to fight it. Then, he remembered: you were a Widow. You’d have fought it if you wanted to.

Loki’s heart beat harder as you let yourself be captured by him, only wriggling a little bit in his strong hold as he shifted his palms to rest at your sides.

“What are y-”

“Darling, you may not understand the politics of what is about to occur, but I have no doubt you’ll learn very quickly.” With that, he dug his wiggling fingers into the soft skin behind your sides and chuckled with delight as you immediately fell into a squirming laughter.

“Wait wahait!” Your warm laughter filled the cabin as Loki’s amused chuckles mixed in. “L-Loki!” You gasped as he pulled one hand away and grazed it under his other arm, skittering his fingers at the bare skin on your belly just above the waistband of your shorts. That really got you laughing. You yelled out in shock before throwing your head back against Loki’s shoulder, your chest heaving with laughter. You kicked your feet out and closed your hands around the fingers flitting at your navel, successfully wrapping them tight enough to stop them on their path.

“Tsk, you’re no fun,” Loki turned his head and teased his whispering lips near your ear, unwrapping his other arm to target the sensitive skin on your belly. Now free to move your body, you twisted between his lap with all ten fingers still wrapped around his one hand, but Loki’s arm caught you and held you sideways, both of your legs draped across his one of his. He looked upon your playful and warm smile, and it was the perhaps the most carefree he’d ever seen you.

Gods, what he’d give to kiss you right now.

Oh. That was a thought he’d tried to suppress.

He looked back at your stomach and focused in on a scar, wondering if he could get you talking and keep you like this for just a bit longer. “This one,” he nodded, firming his hand under and around your waist to keep you close to him without tickling you. You precious thing, you leaned your side against his chest and released his hand to let him trace the skin once more.

“Careful,” you warned with a coy grin before reclining and looking at the skin Loki traced. A soft smile stayed beautifully on your lips as you tensed, trying not to squirm away from Loki’s touch. “That was from a scimitar,” you said, barely above a whisper. His fingerprint grazed the scar with enough pressure to not be unbearable, and he felt you relax into him once more.

When he soon lightened his touch as he travelled to another bullet wound, you giggled once and turned to hide your face against his chest. Oh, this was undeniable. Loki found his jaw tensing as he forced himself to look away and try knocking some sense into his mind.

You’re a god, he told himself. A powerful, brilliant, god. Midgard has made you weak. Filled you with sentiment.

Loki cursed himself as he longed to pull you even closer. How much easier this would all be, he thought, if you were simply beautiful; he could be himself about it. Seduce you, proposition you, see that gleam of desire in your eye, throw you against the wall and kiss you senseless until you’d both had your fun. But you weren’t just beautiful and you weren’t just a piece of fun. That made things, for him, uncharacteristically complicated.

Loki tried to listen as you told him the story of the scimitar scar. How you’d fought, how you’d escaped, how you managed to get them in the end. There was an eerie calmness in the way you so easily described how you killed an enemy, and Loki saw too much himself in that. It was perhaps his least favourite thing about you.

There were many things about you that were like him. But so many that were the polar opposite.

Your lives began the same way. Both of you cast out, both of you taken by an enemy. However, those who’d taken him in cared for him, taught him to live well, given him love and a family. Those who’d taken you did so knowing they’d throw you away the second you were deemed to be unworthy, useless, degenerate. Much as King Laufey had seen him.

Where Loki’d been given attention and love, you’d been given training and reprimand. Where he’d been given a title and a brother, you’d been given a number and an alias. When he’d been given a chance to break free from his expectations, he attempted tyranny. When you’d been given the same chance, you saved the Avengers’ mission from failing. You became a hero.

How he wished he could bend time and trade places so you could have grown up in the golden palace of Valaskjalf, having flowers braided into your hair, being taught arts and languages and that you were worthy of so much more than the life you’d been made to live. Perhaps then you’d know how you were far too good to be falling all over the lap of the likes of him. Maybe if you’d received true love growing up, you’d be less okay with a would-be tyrant’s hands all over you.

But he could not change time, and he could not change you. The more he settled into the feeling of you against his arms, his legs, his chest, the feeling of your skin against his fingers, the less will he had to pull away and declare you foolish for trusting him like this. Eventually, your story ended, and the way you smiled contentedly got the best of him. So he moved his fingers to a lightened and raised patch of skin just below your ribs.

“Another Soviet slug?” He poked his finger into the scar. You twitched and gave him a scolding look.

“Some empathy you’ve got,” you scoffed. “I‘ll have you know that was a good old fashioned Midwestern American cop.”

“Ooh,” Loki winced. “That’s got to sting.”

“The wound? Healed. My pride? Irredeemably shattered.”

“And now it’s a reminder that even a slippery little spy can be sniped by Ohio’s finest,” Loki taunted with another tickling dig at the wound. You bit back a laugh and grabbed his hand.

“Michigan‘s finest” you corrected. “And it was point-blank. Hardly sniped.”

“Perhaps I’ll try erasing this one for you. It seems to be particularly painful.” Loki winked and flatted his palm over the wound to seep his magic into your skin, clawing all five fingers against the flesh they rested upon. You yelped and fell back into giggles, pressing harder into his chest as you sought refuge from his hand. “Come now, you’re stronger than this,” Loki ducked down to make you look at him as he teased you. You hid your face again, but then pulled back and thrashed as the hand holding you close joined the attack, fingers hooking into a space on your lower ribs. “Oho! Some fight in you, now?”

As he redoubled his effort at your ribs, he slid the hand at your side down to knead at your hipbone. You burst into loud laughter, shaking in ticklish helplessness as Loki’s attack on one side of your body kept you pulled into him. When you finally gained control of the arm that’d been clamped over his attack on your ribs, you wrapped your fingers around the hand at your hip and yanked on it through your laughter. He responded by twisting out of your grip, snatching your wrist, pulling it away from your body and slithering the hand at your ribs up to dig into the soft skin beneath your arm.

“H-HEHEY!” You yelled and thrashed in his hold, twisting your body almost entirely towards him as you laughed heartily into his chest. He took the chance to pull you close, your chest flush and sideways against his, his fingers still wedged beneath your arm and digging into the soft skin. He grazed the fingers of his other hand down the width of your back as his free arm hooked under your torso and grabbed at your waist. “Okahay! Okay, Lokihi!” You laughed hysterically and squirmed against his trapping hold.

“If this is truly your first time being tickled, I certainly can’t go easy on you, can I?” Loki teased with his lips dangerously close to your ear. “We’ve got a lifetime to make up for, darling.”

“Oho my GOHOD!” You giggled, then shrieked into his bicep when he used the the fingers at your waist to scratch maddeningly at your bare skin. His fingers quickly found the unevenness of another scar, making him grin with a devious idea to tease you further.

“Tell me about this one,” he spoke casually, wiggling his fingers over the raised skin. You yelped and jumped, still clamping your arm hard against his fingers twitching in your armpit. “Tsk, it’s a rather sensitive one,” he taunted, quickly swiping at it with one finger as he wiggled his thumb into the side of your belly. You threw your head back and laughed even harder. Loki was delighted to see your closed eyes, rosy cheeks and the big ticklish grin spread into your cheeks. “Ignoring me isn’t going to help your case,” he scolded in a gravelly whisper, scratching four fingers at the scar. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

You let out a giggly scream against his shoulder and finally manoeuvred your body to roughly twist away from him. You tumbled out of his lap and rolled a few feet in front of him, landing on your back as you sought to catch your breath. Loki, seeing the enjoyment in your body language, went after you.

He was beside you in a second, grappling with you for your wrists until he caught one in each hand. He chuckled as he swung a leg over your hips, “You’re a quick learner,” he smirked. “So I should explain tickling is also a method used to extract information. Tell me the story of that scar.”

“Torture doesn’t work on me,” you scoffed as he pinned your wrists above your head in one of his own hands. “If you don’t believe me, you could dig up Mikhail’s bones from the Caspian Sea and ask him.”

“Consider this a bribe, then,” Loki squinted at you, reading your willing cheekiness in the way your eyes gleamed with firelight. He, ever so softly, began grazing his fingers against the scar. Those same sparkling eyes shut as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. “I’ll stop if you tell me.”

“Yohou’re a menace,” you huffed between giggles, clearly trying to surmount if you could block out the feeling.

“Such a shame you’ve had no training on how to withstand this,” Loki sighed.

“P-perhahaps I’ll have you trahain me,” you grunted, then giggled harder when he picked up the pace of his fingertips. “S-seems like a- AH! Aha good skihill,” you fell into more solid laughter as Loki wiggled his fingers deeper against the skin.

“And relinquish my advantage?” Loki chuckled, “Tell me the story.”

He grinned as you tried to suppress a shriek and fell into frantic laughter when he hooked a thumb against your lowest ribs, wiggling it into the spaces between the bones. “AHH!” You yelped out and jolted when he found a particularly sensitive rib, focusing his efforts there as you were clearly attempting to begin blocking your mind against it.

“None of that,” he tutted, releasing his hand to not give you the time to get used to the sensation.

You huffed up at him and started to catch your breath. “How do I block it out?”

He smirked and fluttered his fingers against your exposed underarm. Your heel slammed into the ground behind his back as you laughed breathily, sniffing and trying to turn the feeling into something bearable. Just as he saw you begin to stop struggling as hard, he dragged his fingers up to tease against the impossibly soft skin of your inner bicep.

“W-whahat?!” You wheezed and kicked your feet harder, digging your bare heels into the rug in an attempt to gain traction to throw Loki off of you. He began lightly scratching all five fingers against the skin and you shattered the cool mountain air with high-pitched laughter.

“This is most entertaining,” Loki mused, trailing his fingers over to graze at your neck. You shuddered beneath him and bit back breathy giggles, twitching under his touch.

“H-hohow are thehere so many pla-haces?” You winced and giggled as he kept your nerves on edge.

“You may be exceptionally ticklish.”

“Dahammit. T-teach me,” you growled and looked up at him firmly. “How to withstand it.”

Loki sighed and smiled, “Where does it tickle most?”

“Around that scar,” you nodded towards the place where your stomach met your side.

“Lesson one,” Loki placed his fingers back on that space. “Never give up your vulnerabilities.”

You fell into loud laughter when Loki began scratching his fingers against the sides of your belly. He grinned as you thrashed wildly beneath him, arching your back only for him to spider his fingers in the very centre of your stomach where it had lifted highest off the ground. You slammed your back down onto to carpet and fell into hiccupy giggles.

“Besides, I recall this spot being rather effective,” Loki called to you, then latched his hand around your hip and drilled his thumb into the soft space next to the bone. He was beyond pleased to watch you jolt and fall into desperate cackling, your legs scrambling behind him. So he released your hands in favour of attacking both hips simultaneously, an endeared smile pulling across his cheeks as you, stomach tensed, weakened by laughter, tried to sit up to fight him off.

Your grip tugged at his shoulders, then fell to his forearms and then to his wrists as his onslaught brought you back to your laying-down position. You simply couldn’t hold yourself up, disoriented from the relentless steady drilling of his thumbs against your hips. He was so focused on your rosy laughing cheeks, he surprised himself when his body reacted to some icy fingertips tickling at the skin of his lower belly. He flinched backwards, holding in a laugh, and grabbed at your wrists that you’d slipped beneath his shirt.

“You are learning,” Loki smirked.

“Let me have a turn,” you panted.

He felt laughter rumble through his chest as you pulled on your wrists. “That’s not how it works.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “I let you tickle me.”

“You let me?” Loki laughed again.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “… Yes?”

Loki felt his heart beat warmly against his chest as he couldn’t stop the amused grin spreading into his cheeks. Even if you thought you could escape, you hadn’t wanted to. Loki smiled, beyond endeared.“Why would you let me?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be some kind of bonding exercise? It’s supposed to be fun.”

“I suppose.”

“Then…” You shrugged as best you could with your wrists in his hold, “Why wouldn‘t I?”

“You’d really submit to my hands all over you, weeding out your little weak points?” The question tumbled from his lips before he had the wherewithal to stop it. Immediately regretting it, he followed up with, “Besides, I don’t believe you’re in the position to be making demands.”

Loki couldn’t have explained how it happened, what the exact sequence of events was, the way you twisted your hands or turned your body with deadly precision, but he knew that in less than three seconds he went from a position of power to being flat on his back with your legs around his waist and your hand at his throat.

You leaned in and let a smile come to your cheeks at Loki’s surprise. Your hand at his throat wasn’t holding hard, just enough to make your point. “I let you,” you repeated. His eyes locked with yours, the licks of flame sparking in your gaze. He again wondered if he should offer to conjure you some more clothes, but you still seemed perfectly comfortable considering you hadn’t made a move for your dried laundry on the armchair. “Will you let me?”

Loki had to chuckle at the question. “You’ve still got lots to learn, love.” He brought his hands to your hips and sat up slowly underneath you, giving you the chance to unfold your feet and slide down to sit in the gap between his legs, your knees slightly bent over each his thighs. The earnest and somewhat confused look in your eye pulled on his heart. How had you never done this before? It seemed such a basic universal experience. “Tickling isn’t something participants usually submit to,” he explained, taking your hands in his.

“Why not?”

“It can be unbearable. Too much.”

“But not always.”

“Not always. And some pretend to not submit, as the chase can be part of the fun, but they enjoy the playfulness and the intimacy nonetheless.��

“Intimacy.”

“Hmm, yes,” Loki looked at your hands before guiding them to either side of his waist, slipping them beneath the hem of his shirt. “Pure romance, it is,” he murmured, “Knowing someone’s most ticklish spot.”

“How so?”

“There’s an inherent intimacy in bestowing that trust. Allowing someone to know just how to touch you,” Loki said, his voice low and thoughtful as he handled your palms in his grasp, the pads of his fingertips taking in the ridges and callouses. “Giving them the power over you. Knowledge of how to pull you apart with their bare hands.”

“What are you doing?

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I have a lot of questions,” you said, watching curiously as Loki settled your hands against the bare skin of his sides. “I don’t understand things like this.”

“I’m letting you have a turn,” he sighed, thanking every god he knew that no one could see him now. Not Thor, nor the Warriors Three, the Avengers or the other agents. How they’d laugh at the mighty God of Mischief submitting himself in such a way. “You’ll have to be quick. I‘ll fight you from instinct.”

Having learned from Loki, you took to scratching and wiggling your fingers against the skin on his sides where he’d placed your hands. Your touch sent ticklish sparks through his muscles, up his torso and into his neck. Loki clenched his fists on the ground and they turned white as he willed himself to not reach out and stop you.

“You’re not laughing,” your brow lowered in annoyance, and you slipped your hands around the front to flutter your fingers against the centre of his belly. A deep rumbling laughter bubbled over from his chest at the feeling of your fingers lightly prodding against the vulnerable area. “Ah,” you nodded, then grinned, and became a little braver. Throwing yourself against him you wrapped your arms all the way around his waist and dug your fingers deep into the backs of his ribs. Laughter ripped through Loki’s chest, he brought his arms up to wrap around your shoulders so he wouldn’t grab your hands. He let himself twitch and laugh under your searching fingers until he couldn’t stand it any longer and made a play for your arms.

“There you ahare,” he sniffed and smiled down at you. The goofy grin on your face told him you’d had far too much fun.

“That was nothing compared to what you did to me,” you argued, pulling on your hands to signal the intent to continue.

“You’ll have to get stronger then, little spy,” he smirked. “A god doesn’t submit to such things.”

“You just did,” you argued further.

“Perhaps we’ll have a proper grapple in a place better suited,” Loki nodded to the fireplace and released your wrists. “Then you can try earning it.”

“Earning your most ticklish spot?” You asked, head hung as you inspected your sensitive scar with your own fingers. He bit his tongue, unravelling the implications behind your words whilst watching you try repeating the movement against your own skin.

“It won’t work on yourself,” he explained, avoiding your question. You looked up quizzically, prompting him to explain further. “If your body fully understands what it is, if your own hand is performing the action, it won’t work.”

“I suppose that makes it more romantic.” You commented innocently, squinting a bit. “Because you can‘t figure out your most ticklish spot on your own. You need someone else.”

Loki’s mouth twitched into a nervous smile. “I suppose.”

“So I need to tell my brain it’s not a threat,” you nodded, turning back to the facts. “That’s how to overcome it.”

“Correct,” Loki’s smile became tainted with a hint of sadness at the beginnings of the loss of his way to make you laugh. “Master that, and you’ll be immune from my vicious attacks.”

You actually laughed out loud at that, a wide smile pulling onto your cheeks. You looked up at him, eyes soft and full of comfort, then looked back at your own skin. “Vicious?” You chuckled and adjusted the waistband of your shorts before leaning back and propping yourself up with your hands behind you. You looked at the fire, a smile still playing on your lips. “I think that was the most care with which anyone’s ever touched me.”

As Loki looked that the small shadows cast across your torso from where the firelight caught the topography of your scars, he remembered your words from earlier. “In the right context, it weeds out the wimps.” Here you were, completely vulnerable in front of him. Battle history on display, allowing him to touch you, to undo you, to find the places on your skin that made you crumple and twist against him. To laugh with abandon. Engaging in the romanticism of allowing him to know just how to touch you.

You were testing him.

Here you were in very little clothing, falling over him and pulling him close, but what if he was just a beautiful piece of fun to you? What if you were bored, or just looking for satisfaction? For un-aloneness.

Even if you’d had no idea who he was when you first laid eyes on him, you’d certainly have heard the stories by now. You’d know details about what he’d said and done. To Barton, to Romanoff, to the Avengers, to New York, to your world.

Yet here you were, testing him.

As he looked over the collection of your trauma, your skin a map of the suffering you’d endured, it hit him that you remembered each one. The reason it happened, the way it happened. You remembered the pain. Something deep within him emotionally recoiled at the thought of you enduring more pain on account of him. Barton, Romanoff, the Avengers, New York, your world. He’d hurt them all. He’d sooner leave this realm and never return before allowing himself hurt you too.

No, he couldn’t do this.

“You’ve no idea what you’re doing.” The words left his lips, calling out your not-so-subtle ways of tempting him.

“I’ve made that much clear.” You met his gaze and sat up straighter.

Loki chuckled, but more scoffed, and shook his head. “This is madness. You desires are madness.”

“You’re going to sit there and tell me you don’t feel anything?”

“I feel like there’s a very pretty little thing sitting in front of me. One who’s been trying to tempt me all evening.”

“That’s all I am to you?”

Loki clenched his jaw, seeing the skepticism in your eye.

“If that’s the case…” You tilted your head to the side in consideration. “Why hasn’t it worked?”

“Who’s to say it hasn’t?”

You laughed at his words again, pulling your knees back from over his, bringing them to your chest, resting your chin on your arms wrapped around them. You looked to the dwindling fire and sighed. “If I was just a pretty little thing to you…” you looked back at him, a slight victorious smile playing at your lips, “We’d have been in there a long time ago.” You glanced and nodded towards the bedroom, then back to confront him with your stare. “You wouldn’t be asking stories about my scars, threatening captors from my history. You would have kissed me already.”

“Watch yourself,” Loki felt his eyes turn dark.

“But you can’t, can you?”

“Provoking a god is inadvisable.”

“I’m not provoking,” you shot back, sitting up straighter. “I’m giving you a chance to be honest.”

“I’m the God of Lies.”

“Then lie to me. Tell me you feel nothing, then let’s have some meaningless fun.”

“No.”

“You don’t want to, or it wouldn’t be meaningless?”

“I said no.”

A log cracked in the dying fire and Loki saw the flash of confusion cross your face. He set his jaw, giving you nothing with his look.

You nodded and made to stand up. “Understood,” you got to your feet and stepped around him. You didn’t say anything as he heard the sounds of fabric and buckles as you replaced your dry clothes on your body. The dwindling flame would soon only be embers in the stone fireplace. Loki wondered if he should tend to it. Stoke the flame, or let it go cold. The cold wouldn’t affect him as much as it would you, but you’d covered yourself more and there had been lots of blankets in both the bedrooms, so he didn’t touch it.

You walked around the back of the couch towards the smaller room with the smaller bed, boots in hand. “We should leave at first light.” You paused in your doorway, stuck your tongue against the inside of your cheek, cleared your throat, then turned to switch on the small lamp in your room, the one that sat on a table next to you. “What just occured? I won’t bring it up again,” you promised politely, not quite meeting his eye, then shut the door.

The pressure shift in the room extinguished any flame that may have still remained in the fireplace, the smoky embers now glowing as small pricks of orange. The room was mostly dark, now only lit from those wall lamps. Standing and moving to turn off the generator, he let the darkness wash over him. The frosty air, the aloneness of the room, the silence. He could hear you preparing for sleep in the room you’d taken. You were probably sleeping in your clothes to be prepared to run should someone find you two here. The rusty springs of your mattress squeaked a few times, then it was truly silent.

Loki watched the embers fade, focusing his gaze on the blaze’s gravesite as he ruminated on what‘d just occurred. He wished it had bothered him more - that you’d walked out, that you’d promised to never speak of it again. Perhaps he didn’t have feelings for you beyond attraction, if he was able to let you walk out so easily. Or, perhaps, he was too shocked to feel the initial blow and he’d feel the dull ache in the morning, or only see the scars of his decision years down the line.

As he settled himself into his own creaky bed minutes later, he allowed himself to believe he did the right thing by you. It would’ve felt, for lack of a better word, gross. A gross dishonesty to allow you to proceed with him when he was convinced you’d no idea who he really was. If you did, you wouldn’t look at him like that. If you knew the depths pain he was sure he’d have eventually inflicted upon you, you’d never look at him again.

On the trip home and the several days after Switzerland, Loki was surprised to find that you didn’t ice him out after his rejection of your advances. Something had changed, but you weren’t acting like a scorned lover, and that was at least a small relief.

But, again, something had changed. He first noticed it around five days after you’d both returned, the first time you were back in a large group setting. It was a dinner with most of the team and Pepper had entered to announce the anniversary gala being held in honour of Stark Industries the following Saturday. Loki saw the way the table accepted the news and buzzed with the prospect of a party and limitless alcohol, and then he saw Pepper approach you.

“You’re of course very much wanted in attendance,” she smiled warmly. You smiled back, that smile reserved for her that wouldn’t at all hurt her feelings, and you thanked her for her hospitality.

Now, usually, that would be followed by an exchange of looks with Loki. Some sly, meaning-filled flash of your eyes to make a joke or a comment that he’d understand, but you just looked back at your plate, and then over to where Sam was telling some story. Loki looked at you for a few more seconds until his brother commanded his attention, and he regretfully ripped his glance away.

He then realised you’d stop treating him differently than you treated the others. You weren’t unkind, but you’d stopped giving him the allowance of a glimpse into your psyche, into your secret thoughts and quips as a fellow observer on the outskirts of this team. When you’d meet his eye in a conversation, there was not one hint of the fireside vulnerability. No, that vulnerability was left behind in a mountainside cabin belonging to Swiss Nature Conservatory.

Now with the insight of what lay beneath, Loki began noticing, realising, that you always wore clothes that completely covered yourself. He did too, of course, as he always had, but his was a choice devoid of the desire to hide. Whereas your decision to wear long sleeved everything seemed to be a begrudging one. Something you sometimes wished you didn’t have to do. Or maybe it was habit.

It was hard to tell, now, what you really thought about things.

The following Saturday evening Loki heard you still in your room as he passed by on his way to join Thor in a car to the gala. His focus on an adjustment of his cuff link was taken by your sigh, and so he dared a peak into your near wide-open door. There you stood, looking at yourself in a mirror with far too little enthusiasm for how undeniably gorgeous you were. He saw you catch him lurking, but you didn’t acknowledge him, you just moved to sit and pull on some simple strapped heels.

“You’ll be quite warm in there,” Loki commented from your doorway. You didn’t react, didn’t look up from where you were securing the strap of your shoe, not until it was done.

“I’ll be fine,” you replied shortly, standing from your place on the ottoman at the end of your bed, smoothing out the silky fabric of the floor-length black gown. The sleeves hugged your shoulders down to your wrists, the bodice fitted down to the hips until it fell in a shimmering cascade of elegance down to just above your toes. Loki couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been inspired by the dress he’d conjured for you, considering the similarities.

“Is this all you have?” He nodded to the dress as you picked up a simple black clutch purse from the end of your bed.

“Rude,” you scoffed with a wry half-smile.

“It’ll be crowded,” Loki explained. “You look… exquisite, I merely-”

“I chose this dress from a rack of many- did you need something?” You finally looked up and locked eyes with him, and he noticed how well you’d done your makeup. Accentuating all the right features, impeccably applied, highlighting that gleam of attraction in your eye so well he considered perhaps it was always there, not just for him. “Loki,” you caught his attention, walking towards him as you slotted the phone in your purse. “Did you need something?” You stopped right in front of him, looking up into his stare, the way your cheek moved told him you were biting your tongue.

“No,” he responded. You nodded, then fixed your gaze past him down the hallway before stepping around his body and making your way towards the cars. He followed you with his eyes, noticing the only slivers your skin visible below the high neck of the dress were on your hands and feet. Your hair fell in soft waves behind your shoulders, covering the back of your neck.

Yes, you were making it clear: no one gets to see that much of you.

Loki let you round a corner before making his way to the cars, giving you time to chose one that would have no room for him. However, when he got there he found the time you’d taken to get ready meant you were seated in the last vehicle, with no one else in it. He sighed and ducked his head into the doorway.

“I can find another way.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you chuckled dryly. “Get in, we need to leave.”

The ride there was mostly silent, until near the end when Loki asked if you’d received any more intel. To his relief, you didn’t ignore him. Again, you treated yourself with the dignity of not behaving like a scorned lover, even though he felt he may deserve it for how long he’d let himself touch you that evening.

“That dirty source went dark. Which, I mean… good riddance. Barnes actually mentioned he might have some chatter. Old Winter Soldier contacts.”

“Barnes.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, looking out the window. It would have been easy for you to make some comment, even spin a lie, about how Barnes was going to join you on the mission. Loki was glad you didn’t, considering the jealousy he already felt rising from his chest to tighten his throat. You even could’ve made some vindictive remark about how that unmarked Soviet slug behind your shoulder wasn’t his, to make Loki think you’d shown your history to someone else out of spite. Somehow, the fact that you hadn’t made it that much worse; it made clear that your vulnerability wasn’t a pawn you played with abandon, but a powerful Queen now retreated behind the army to keep out of harm‘s way.

Romanoff had waited for you outside and when you saw her your shoulders dropped the tension Loki’d barely noticed you’d been holding. A relieved smile formed against your muted crimson lipstick as she looped her arm through yours and led you into the lavish towering building, straight up to the penthouse ballroom.

Loki followed, close by, rode the same elevator, but almost immediately broke off when he stepped out of it into the bustling and crowded room. A large brass band played in the corner and the building was alive with celebration. Stealing a glance at you, seeing you gauge the unfamiliar territory of simply being a guest, he surmounted that you would be okay. Then, he went to find himself a very strong drink.

Elbow against the bar, The God of Mischief looked out over the mass of Midgardians as they ate and drank and schmoozed and pretended to like each and every person they met. Observing the hoards of diamond-laden patrons, he downed his drink and then ordered another. The band kept playing some roaring jazz which, even Loki could admit, was exceptionally well performed. The dance floor opened and several couples jived and spun elegantly, all the people invited to this party being the sort who actually knew how to do that kind of thing without mortally embarrassing themselves in public.

Catching a glimpse of you in a conversation with Sam, Loki set aside his jealousy and allowed himself to be thankful such a man’d found you here. Wilson was gifted at making people feel comfortable, and Loki hadn’t failed to notice that The Falcon was one of the few people who could make you smile on the days you were regressing. Falling inwards.

The more he saw you from across the room, the more he ached for your company. You seemed to be the only person who was on the same page as him at all times, always. He longed for those looks you’d shoot him across the room, the smirks and winks and exchange of information that was held in a lingering gaze. It was more than camaraderie. Much more. Much deeper. Finally, it bothered him that you’d walked out that night in the cabin. That he’d let you. Asked you to.

Thor approached the bar, interrupting his younger brother’s downward spiral, and pulled a bottle from a pocket in his suit.

“Thank the Norns,” Loki sighed, sliding his glass over in request for some of the Asgardian spirits.

“Loki, come talk with the scientist I met.”

“Brother, I-”

“Lurking by the bar all night is not becoming of a Prince, nor an Asgardian,” Thor clapped him on the shoulder, leaving no room for debate with that declaration. Begrudgingly, Loki entered a conversation with a scientist whom he quickly learned was not a bore, and not horrifically ill-informed about matters of the universe. Making sure he was facing the wider room, he listened and discussed with the scientist and his brother for a surprisingly long while, every so often looking up to clock where you were, to make sure you were okay. Which felt unfair to you, that he was keeping tabs.

Then, one time he looked up, he couldn’t find you. The room was crowded, yes, but it was like he’d been attuned to the specific way the light hit your hair. He waited several minutes, because perhaps you were in the bathroom. But he still couldn’t find you. Excusing himself, Loki went in search. Weaving through New York’s elite and the higher-ups at Stark Industries, Loki copped his fair share of scowls and shying aways but he had more pressing matters to attend to. What if you’d left?

After searching far and wide, Loki finally caught a glimpse of someone out on a balcony. The glass door to it was off to an uninhabited section of the room, so he was fairly confident you’d taken your leave there. As he approached the door it again felt unfair to you, that he’d come looking. Let her see your selfishness, Loki told himself as he broke away from the noise and onto the balcony.

New York City had never been quiet, but compared to the tank of sound he’d just stepped out of, this balcony felt as peaceful the corner of the palace library he’d hide away in when he was younger. Or maybe that was just your presence.

You peeked over your shoulder to see Loki approaching, then turned back to the skyline. “I needed some air,” you answered his wordless question as his hand met the rail next to where you were leaning on your elbows.

“It is rather stuffy in there.”

“Come here to gloat about how I should have heeded your advice and not worn long sleeves?”

“I came here for the same reasons as you. I can only stand the people in there for so long.”

He saw you fight a smile. “It feel aimless being here without an objective. I mean, why do people do these things?” You nodded behind him to the party, then finally locked eyes with his, a wry smile on your cheeks. “If not to give assassins the perfect cover. Seriously, they’re just asking for it at this point.”

“Perhaps you should run a seminar.”

“I can’t give away all my secrets. They’ll need them one day.”

Loki remembered your words in the cabin, how you’d assumed Stark and Rogers would use you and Natasha. Use your skills. Use your bodies. He set his jaw, then turned back to look over the city, still several feet away from you. “You don’t trust them. The Avengers.”

You chuckled once, bitterly. “Not yet.”

His eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, his questioning glance still casted over Manhattan. “You trust me. Even after Switzerland. Why?”

“Because you don’t hide the things you’ve done.”

The exchange happened so nonchalantly Loki might’ve blinked and missed it, but it finally made sense to him. His dirty secrets were out in the open, so were many of yours, all of those around you knew about the bad things you’d done. About who you were. You probably saw it as an unfair advantage and you were waiting for the other shoe to drop - to be sent in with a kill order, or to be sent in wearing very little clothing to seduce a target. You were waiting for the moment they revealed that all you were to them was a Widow.

You pulled at the high neck of your dress and Loki saw, even in the early spring air, that you were uncomfortably warm. He sighed and made his offer, “Allow me to conjure you a different dress. You’re clearly uncomfortable.”

“Either I‘m uncomfortable or everyone else is,” you smiled begrudgingly. “Tony caught a glimpse of…” you gestured to your own body, mainly to your back, “All of that, and offered to arrange some kind of laser skin therapy- I don’t know the details,” you brushed it off with a weak wave of your hand, still looking down across Manhattan.

“I thought you didn’t care what people think.”

You were silent for a beat. You smiled, looking up at the cloudy light-polluted sky, then back at your own hands before ducking your head in concession. “I didn’t.”

“What changed?”

You sniffed, your jaw tensed, your mouth curled into a wry smile. “Before I showed you, you looked at me a certain way. I liked the way the looked at me. Now it’s different.”

You’re one to talk, Loki shot the comeback through his stare.

“That wasn’t the reason.” Loki was then silent, prompting you to reply, but you didn’t, so he stepped back in. “I find myself drawn to you in a way I’ve never known,” he spoke to you by way of the night sky. “You know you’re beautiful, there’s no doubt in that, but beauty is easy to resist. Scars or not, you have this… this allure, this charm, an enticing demeanour. That’s a lot of power for a mortal to hold over a god.”

You turned back to the sky and sighed. “So it’s because I’m mortal.”

“It‘s because it wouldn’t have been right by you.”

“What?”

“I not willing to let you become another person I hurt. You’ve no idea who I really am. What I’m capable of.”

“What on Earth gave you that idea?”

Loki let out a breath and looked out over the city he once sought to destroy. “I could see it in your eyes the first day you arrived. You weren’t afraid. You didn’t know me.”

“That’s not true,” you shook your head. “I knew exactly who you were.”

“You don’t know all the things I’ve done,” he continued. “The pure treachery of it all.”

“That’s why you pushed me away?” You stood up taller and turned to face him, placing a hand against the railing much as he did. “Because you’re afraid of hurting me?”

“Look there,” he pointed to an empty lot with a sharpness in his command. “At that building foundation that’s just been poured. That used to be a twenty-two story apartment complex. Would you like to wager a guess at how it came crashing down?”

“This is different, I’m not a building, Loki-”

He digressed, “Or how about a guess at how many were inside when it did collapse-”

“You’re projecting what you did then onto what you might do now. I’m not some brick and mortar that’ll blow up if you get too close!”

Loki seethed in pained frustration. “If I get too close, I will hurt you-“

“You already have!”

If he was a mere mortal man, he’d perhaps have recoiled at the angry desperation in your voice. He set his jaw and shook his head the smallest amount. “This is different. The pain of this is nothing compared to what I’m capable of.”

Your lips parted with the beginning of your response, but you closed them again before looking out over the cityscape. The lights from the city betraying the fact your eyes had gone a bit glassy. Swallowing hard, you shut your eyes, then released a resigned breath Loki hadn’t realised you’d been holding. You looked back over to him and sighed in defeat, near-whispering, “You’ve already hurt me, Loki.”

You took a step forward, taking his hand at the railing and guiding it towards yourself. He allowed you to place his palm against that wildly sensitive place on your side. The one below the bullet hole from Michigan, to the left of the scimitar scar. The scar you hadn’t told him the story of.

He remembered it well. It was long, curved, the wound must have been deep when it was inflicted. The way it widened near the top made him assume a blade had been plunged in and pulled upwards, but he couldn’t know for sure. The fabric of your dress was thin enough, and the scar prominent enough, for him to feel it against his palm beneath your gown.

“No,” he breathed out, feeling a sick twisted knot in his stomach when he realised what you were about to say.

You looked at his hand, closing your fingers around his wrist to hold it there. “I got this scar in 2012. Right here in New York City.” Then, you looked up at him and let the roots of your words catch hold. He very quickly put the pieces together; you had that scar because of his attack.

Because of him.

He set his jaw and tried to pull his hand away, but you held fast. He pulled harder but you stayed firm, stumbling forward with his tug as he tried to take his hand off the horrifying agony he’d inflicted. Loki felt the pain and humiliation, the pure horror, pricking against his eyes as he tried to find the words to meet your sad and earnest gaze. He stopped struggling, taking in the sheer size of the scar, allowing the shame to strike through him as penance.

“I was in the city on an assignment to take out the assistant manager of a hedge fund. I was supposed to make it look like an accident,” you started. “Then, suddenly, the sky opened up. Before I knew it, I was on the wrong end of an ugly alien’s spear,” you said, all too casually. “It actually made my mission a lot easier, considering the invasion took care of it for me.”

Loki winced and tried again to pull his hand away, not feeling he had any right to tell you what to do. “Please.”

“You’ve already hurt me, so what‘s your excuse now?” You took a brave and shaky breath in, finally releasing his wrist. He retracted it like a wounded dog.

The silence hung thick amidst the white noise of the city until Loki managed a small scoff. “I belong in the depths of the Caspian Sea with all others who’ve hurt you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I’d only hurt you more.”

“I don’t think you will.”

“You deserve far better.”

“And you deserve much more mercy than you’re affording yourself.” You reached out and took his hand, guiding it back towards that place on your side. “As someone who’s felt the pain you can inflict…” He bit back a grimace as he allowed you to drape his palm over the damage he’d caused. “I’m okay, and I forgive you.”

Loki audibly winced at your confession, his heart and eyes and lungs stinging with his regret at pushing you away. Yet, here you were, still close to him. The Queen was out on the battlefield once again. “This is madness,” he choked out. “How can you truly believe I deserve your forgiveness?”

“Because I understand how it feels to be the person the good guys whisper about. The one they think might snap at any second, turn evil, hurt innocent people, and prove that people don’t change. But people do change. Right from the start I could see that in you, and it gave me so much hope,” you smiled as your eyes became glassy with emotion. “Because if you were a really, at the heart of it, a good person who’d done bad things… maybe I could be a good person too.”

And there, then, you gave him that same look you’d given him the very first time he’d seen you. Your eyes were full of contradictory soft stoicism, flashing with both a familiarity and an undeniable desire to know more. He settled his hand more comfortably on your side, relieving you of the need to hold it, but you still did. He looked at where his touch lay, he looked at the way your fingers draped delicately over and around his wrist and the back of his hand, then he looked up to see your eyes hadn’t left him. Then, he finally got his answer.

That look you’d given him hadn’t been one of indifference or courage. It had been understanding.

“You’ve seen far more of me that most,” you swayed your head to catch his eye where his gaze had been fixed to his hand at your waist, taking a reassuring step closer to him. “You don’t need to be afraid of hurting me. You know I can overcome pain. You’ve hurt me before, and I’m still here.”

Loki choked an incredulous breath as he brushed a strand of hair from your cheek, bringing it behind your ear as he laced his fingers through your hair. “Gods, you beautiful, precious thing.” He let your affection wash over him like a wave of relief. Here came the Queen charging down the battlefield, and he’d gladly relinquish his throne.

His hand at your waist slipped around to the small of your back, but you stepped even closer to him before he had the chance to pull you in, and you lifted your head to meet him halfway. He leaned down, and then kissed you with the fire of every shred of forgiveness he could bear to afford himself.

Your arms wrapped around his waist as you pulled yourself closer, deepening the kiss as much as you could without making it uncomfortable for either of you. He could feel your craving desire in how the fabric of his dress shirt became bunched between your fingers and you used anything you could to press into him, forgoing your need for air to kiss him as long as you could stand it. Fearing for you consciousness, he pulled away to force you to breathe, a loving smile pulling at his lips as he saw you pant and sway and look up at him with a sheepishness he hadn’t seen you wear before. “Careful,” he warned, allowing a sliver of his playfulness to return.

You nodded and gulped more air, pulling again at the collar of your dress as you flushed under your desire and the heat of the fabric.

Loki moved to run his hands over your arms. “Please, allow me to rid you of this discomfort,” he looked on earnestly and saw you consider the offer, then nod. Wordlessly, he slid his hands up to your shoulders and, with a flash of golden green, the top-half of your dress transformed under his magical guidance. The high collar dropped to an almost-modest straight neckline that continued all the way around, supported by a thin strap over each shoulder. You visibly relaxed in relief as the cool night air surrounded your skin, and once again pressed upwards into his hands. Just as he had experienced that night in the cabin, Loki found himself completely unwilling to take his hands away from your reassuring nestle.

“Loki.”

A familiar voice from the doorway turned your heads, interrupting your moment of closeness. A quick glance at your eyes nearly made Loki laugh, seeing how annoyed you looked at his brother for interrupting.

Thor informed them there was a speech about to begin, and neither of you should be missing it. A knowing glint in his eye brought a half-smirk to Loki’s lips, then his brother re-entered the party.

“I suppose we-”

You cut him off with another kiss, pulling him down by the lapel of his tuxedo, crashing his lips to yours. His hands found your waist, one of them trailing up your back until his palm lay flat against the uneven bare skin. Then, you pulled away, again a little breathless. “Just making sure that first kiss wasn’t a goodbye.”

The solemn look in your eye and the way your brow furrowed with your declaration brought a smile to his cheeks. “It was certainly not goodbye.”

He removed one hand from your back, using the other to gently guide you back towards the party, relishing in the way you seemed fidgety. Not nervous, but excited, shying closer to him from the anticipation of sharing your next kiss.

When you two settled into a place to stand near the back of the room, his hand moved again, his forearm rest against your lower back as his hand rested on your hip. Pressing into him as much as you elegantly could, Loki had to resist the urge to wrap both arms around you and distract you while Pepper gave her speech. He held you close, every so often giving a gentle and reassuring squeeze of his hand against your hip. You’d always press a little more into him when he did, probably to reassure him as well, or maybe because you were afraid he’d slip away again.

But he would not. You knew who he was, you knew what he’d done, and you were still here. So he would be too.

So when the speech was done and the applause had resounded and the band slowed its music down to a slow and beautiful melody, Loki turned to you and watched as you observed the couples pouring onto the dance floor.

“Do you know how to dance?”

“Of course.”

Without asking further, he began leading you towards the floor. You looked up at him, perplexed, your eyes asking him why you two were wasting time on the dance floor when you’d just had to keep from jumping each other for the past fifteen minutes. He breathed out as he settled you two into the outskirts of the dance floor, placed a hand on your lower back, and took your hand in his.

An uncharacteristically shy smile found its way to your lips, reminding Loki that touch like this was unusual to you. So he pulled you a little closer and led you in a slow waltz. You didn’t put a foot out of place, but you seemed far less interested in the dancing than you were in feeling close to him. The music slowed again, and you pressed your body further against his.

“Careful,” Loki warned, breath hitching in his throat. “Making moves like that. You’ve no idea what it does to me.” You blushed again, bringing pure delight to Loki. He made it obvious that he was scanning your features for any feeling you were trying to hide, and then he pulled you closer so you couldn’t see his smirk, but you could certainly feel it against your ear. “Or, perhaps you do know what it does to me.”

You chuckled, stepping in time with the slow music, squeezing his hand once. “I’m not trying to seduce you.”

He braved a good-natured jab. “Not again, you mean.” He pulled away and led you to turn outwards, which you did with an unmatched grace. Your controlled collision back against his chest brought another blush to your cheeks. A blush Loki was certain you were cursing yourself for not being able to hide.

You cocked your head and put on a brave and playful glare. “I’ll leave it to you next time.”

“Hmm, that’ll be quite the mission,” his whispered low and led you two steps forward, then around with him in a slow gentle spin.

“I’m sure you have your ways.”

“Oh, but I’m sure you’ll take great pleasure in making me work for it.”

“Can’t make it easy for you, can I?” You tilted your chin further up towards him, looking back and forth between his eyes glittering with warm lights strung along the ceiling. “Not after you took me to a nice dinner, tickled me senseless and then let me go to bed alone. Rather rude… for a Prince.”

“Mmm. A Prince, I am,” he smirked back, sliding his arm further around your back to be gripped on your opposite hip. “Riches, palaces, armies, land, anything you desire. How might I make it up to you?”

“I’ll think about it.”

He narrowed his eyes and saw the beginnings of a coy smile crease at the sides of your lips. “You’ve already got something in mind,” he tilted his head to the side, then down in a playfully warning glare. “What are you trying to get from me, little spy?”

“Intel. Some… sensitive information.”

Loki chuckled, licked his lips and stood to his full height, letting himself laugh at the audacity of what he knew you’d be asking him. “That’s what you want?”

Slipping your hand out of his, then looping both around his neck, you shrugged and gave him a cheeky smile. “I’m new to this whole romance thing, and the only thing I know for sure is you said knowing someone’s most ticklish spot was pure romance.”

“So is dancing like this,” he chuckled again and lifted his head so he’d be looking down on you in a way meant to be a little intimidating, just so you’d understand who you were asking this of.

“This party is nice, but I’d much rather be back in Switzerland.”

“For which part?” Loki quirked his brow. “Having knives thrown at you, the wading through snow, the freezing next to the fire? Perhaps the god, crippled by self-loathing, who foolishly let you go to bed alone.” He nearly chuckled. “Pray tell, what about Switzerland do you miss?”

“Being with you,” you answered honestly, casually. “Just you.”

“If you’re not enjoying yourself,” Loki lowered his voice to a gravelly rumble beside your ear. “Might I take you home?”

Loki would’ve used the car ride back to the Compound to run you through the ground rules of knowing such sensitive information about another person, if he’d been able to keep his lips off yours for even a second.

Thank the gods for backseat partitions.

By the time you two stumbled out of the car, breathless and kiss-delirious, he’d completely rid himself of any desire to set any sort of ground rules. Perhaps it was because he knew, when it came down to it, your strength was no match for his and he could easily turn the tables and teach you a lesson if you got too cocky. Or, maybe, it was because the mere thought of missing a potential second of your hands on him was unbearable. He couldn’t be sure. All he knew was as long as you kept looking at him like that, he’d tell you anything you wanted to know.

The empty Compound echoed with the clicking of your heels, the stumbling of his shoes, the slamming of your bodies into walls to steal another moment on your way, then the laugh of delight as Loki swept you off your feet and declared he was done wasting time in the cold and unforgiving hallways. When you tried to pull him off course, to comment that a particular doorway would be a detour on your way to his room, he responded with a playful growl and a slip of his fingers up under your arm to dig into your upper ribs. Then, the empty Compound resounded with your melodic laughter for the rest of the journey to Loki’s room.

“My tuhurn!” You laughed as he slammed the door with his heel, pausing his tickling fingers to duck down and captured your giggling protesting lips in another fiery kiss. After several seconds you broke away, shaking your head. “You’re not getting out of this.”

“Darling…” he kissed your cheek sweetly before smirking, “I’d never dream of it.” He pulled away and you looked up at him, squinting a bit as your jaw slackened.

“God of Lies, you finally lied to me,” you smirked before you broke into a grin, then let out a yelp of surprise as Loki spun and fell down backwards onto the bed with you still in his arms. He pulled you in for several more long and fervid kisses, trailing his lips along your jaw and down your neck until he hit a sensitive spot, making you giggle and instinctively push him away.

He caught you before you could go too far. “Are you sensitive here, my little spy?” he chuckled, pulling you close and grazing his teasing lips over the spot to watch you shiver and giggle. “My… aren’t you just the most delightfully ticklish thing.”

“Okahay, enough!” You pushed yourself away with a final giggle before settling yourself atop him, hiking your dress above your knees to straddle his waist. “Tell me.”

“I’ve honestly no idea how I’ll keep myself from throwing you off into a wall,” Loki admitted with a resigned grimace, then removed his hands from where they sat at your legs. He laced his fingers together and used them to cradle his head, but more to keep them out of your way.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you smirked, then raised an eyebrow to ask that same question.

“There you are,” Loki muttered, motioning with his eyes to the space under his arms he’d exposed for you to attack. You gave him an unimpressed look.

“You have a tux on. Take the jacket off at least,” you crossed your arms and huffed, quite adorably, so Loki smirked and obliged. In a brilliant flash of magic, he’d changed himself from his black tuxedo into a long-sleeved black shirt and matching pants. To tease, though, he added a large chainmail vest. “Loki!” You swatted at him and he laughed, the allowed the chainmail to disappear.

“I should warn you,” Loki felt his stomach tense as you brought your fingers closer to his torso. “This opportunity will not present itself again.” You shrugged, nodded and smiled wider as you watched him tense further, instinctively shying away from your approaching fingers. “AND- and,” Loki chuckled nervously, eyeing your fingertips mere inches from his ribs. “We’re fihinding yours after this,” he declared.

You smirked in response. “Stop trying to make me go easy on you. It won’t work.”

Loki scoffed, narrowing his eyes. “You cheeky little-mmm,” he was cut off by your fingers touching down at his ribs, when he sealed his lips to try holding in his reaction. Unfortunately for him you appeared to be a quick leaner, very effectively sending ticklish shocks in the wake of your fingers.

“Oh, not so tough now, are you?”

“Wahatch your tongue,” Loki growled, some laughter slipping through his lips. You cocked a grin and brought your hands higher, prodding at his uppermost ribs, wriggling your fingers into the divots of his bones. “Gehet on with it!” Loki coughed a laugh and glared through his tensed jaw. You grinned wider and descended your fingers against the thin fabric covering his armpits, scratching and clawing your fingers firmly against the vulnerable area.

The Prince of Asgard shut his eyes and burst into a deep, bright ticklish laughter as you alternated between the firm fluttering and devious digging at the the susceptible spot. You were quick and agile, ensuring to make good use of the limited time you’d have. Just as he thought he may lose control and throw you off, Loki’s laughter-laden lips were semi-captured with your own as you kissed him through your grin and his laugh, not letting up on your attack.

Unable to stand leaving his arms behind his head, he whipped them down and took your face in his hands to kiss you as hard as he could while still laughing. He’d trapped your hands under his arms when he’d sealed off the space, and you were still going at it while giggling and you two were failing to kiss each other properly. And as if you couldn’t get any more precious, you pulled your hands away before it became too much for him, and planted your elbows either side of his head, hovering your face over his to kiss him properly.

Loki’s hands ran firmly over your sides, hips, legs, back, neck, everything he could touch and pull you closer by as he kissed you with a fiery passion. “My love,” he panted, pulling away to look you in the eyes. “I hope you understand your mercy has no effect on mine,” he lowered his voice to a teasing growl and watched the breath catch in your throat. “We’re going to have so much fun figuring this out together.”

And so Loki set out on your shared mission, ignoring the protests he knew you didn’t mean, using his mischievous fingers to seek out your most sensitive spots. He relished in the way you melted into his touch, let yourself laugh without a care in the world, not at all attempting to conceal how he was setting your nerves alight. Every so often he’d pause his torment to allow you to catch your breath, only to steal it again with a deep, consuming kiss. Most times he did, you managed to distract him long enough to test another spot of his and finding, to your delight, his hips were nearly as ticklish as yours.

He made sure you picked your moments carefully, never above the threat to use his magic to fix you to the bed and turn you into a begging, ticklish mess. “Perhaps another time,” you’d winked before kissing him once more. Loki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at your agreement, but he filed the permission away to use at a later date if you ever became far too cheeky with him.

Knowing you, intimately acquainted with your battle history, Loki couldn’t blame you for how much you enjoyed the playful game. Especially not after your admission in the cabin - that him tickling you had been the most care anyone’d ever had when physically engaging with you. He’d thought about that a lot, and wondered if you’d still be as keen for this playful game after you learned all the gentle ways he could hold you.

So after you two discovered that you were definitely most ticklish just above your knee, on the sensitive skin of your leg, he relented on his fact-finding tour and wiped a happy tear from your temple before falling beside you and pulling you in close to his him, smiling at how your cheek rested so perfectly on the space where his shoulder met his chest.

He teased you for your dramatic silent-laughter reaction, for how hard you thrashed when he’d dusted his fingers across the skin. How you’d finally begun begging after he’d laid himself across your hips, facing your feet, pinned your knee to the mattress and traced quick fluttering circles all over the soft skin of your inner lower thigh. How you squealed in breathless laughter and helplessly grabbed at his shirt when he trailed five fingers in a blossoming motion, opening and closing, maddeningly lightly against the inside skin of your quivering leg. Loki promised you he’d only use it if you absolutely deserved it.

Then, he silently promised himself, even if it meant you became less keen for this playful game, he’d teach you the kindness of touch.

He didn’t see you as fragile. No. That much was clear. But you’d asked him to teach you things, and you were a quick learner. So as you laid on his chest, he ran his fingers through your hair and tightened an arm around your waist to pull you as close as you could comfortably be. There was a stammering hesitance in the way you’d respond, this affection being so new to you, but you seemed desperate to respond in a way that let Loki know you were happy, here, with him. Still here, with him.

He kissed you, sweetly, on your lips, your cheeks, your eyelids just to make you giggle and then let out a content sigh and ran a soothing hand over your back. Somewhere in the scuffle you’d asked him to conjure you a tank top and shorts; the fine silk was of the gown getting in the way and had tangled around one of your legs. Through the fabric of the clothes he’d placed on you, he felt the tumultuous surface of your skin as it rose and fell with the chronology of your pain.

He knew there’d be more bullet wounds, more gashes from daggers and scimitars, more burns and grazes. But next time it would be different, because he would be there.

You were tenacious, a firecracker, unwilling to sit still or stay on the sidelines. Unwilling to leave so many women out in the world under control of the worst man to walk Midgard. But not one more scar would mar this body, he promised himself. As long as he was there, you’d have no more permanent memories of your hurting. Only of a kind touch. Only of a tender kiss, a wildly ticklish spot, his fingers through your hair as he worked the tension away with every caress.

He couldn’t change time, and he couldn’t change you. In fact, he did not want to change you. But perhaps he could not only teach you the kindness of touch, but, over time, he could teach you arts and languages and that you were so much more worthy of the life you’d been made to live.

And perhaps, over time, he would learn some things too. Such as the depths of you knowing him, the depths of your affections for him. He held you close and breathed you in, still in awe that those two things could go hand-in-hand. It’d always seemed impossible.

Yet, here you were, looking at him like that.

So on the days he was tempted to regress inwards, to deny himself forgiveness and to paint himself as nothing more than a villain, he’d look into your honest eyes and remind himself that here you still here; forgiving him, understanding him, knowing him, and wanting him all the same.

[lokisninerealms]

A God’s Eternal Gift

Summary: In which the God of Mischief overhears you gushing about having a baby and offers a solution.

Warnings: (18+Content) Mentions of pregnancy and all topics relating to pregnancy and children, contains *heavy* smut content (oral with m!receiving and f!receiving), breeding kink if you squint, all the juicy stuff

A/N: and y’all thought this would just be fluff, inspired by #19 on this prompt list

MASTERLIST

When you were younger, you always knew you wanted to be a mother. The idea of bringing another life into this world and able to call them ‘yours’ creating a warm feeling. Yearning to love and protect a child of your own while you watched them grow. Not to mention the countless compliments you received, telling you how much of an amazing mother you would make someday.

Someday. That word echoed in your mind as you walked past the countless of mothers in New York. A pang of sadness and jealousy always striking you as you envied them. The happiness in their faces while they walked with their child whether it was one or two maybe even three or four. An ache in your chest grew as you wondered what it would be like to nurture a child. One that you could give the life that you never got to learn.

Everybody knew how badly you wanted to be a mother. Spending countless hours beaming about babies and all things surrounding pregnancy, Nat and Wanda always being the ones first hand to experience this side of you.

Constantly having to drag you away from the baby sections in stores, or listen to you gush about how cute an infant was that you passed. ‘Look how chubby and tiny their hands are! I would give anything to squeeze them.’ They could never get enough of your constant daydreams as you talked about motherhood. Only praying that one day that dream of yours would come true.

It was a slow day at the Avengers compound, all of you doing your own thing as you sprawled out on the couch. Your feet laying on Wanda’s lap while Natasha was on the opposite end, dully scrolling through the channels. All of you sat in silence until a photo of your cousin with her newborn popped up on your phone. The familiar ache in your chest appeared as you showed Wanda and Nat.

“Look how tiny she is,” you exclaimed. Adoring how precious the bundle of joy looked in her tiny hat and little fists balled up. Nat and Wanda joining you in gushing about how adorable the petite newborn was.

“I hate that I’ll never get the opportunity to experience what it’s like to be a mom,” you sighed. Shutting off your phone while furrowing your eyebrows.

“You could always get a sperm donor, you know? I know you said you hated the idea and wanted the baby to grow up with both parental figures. But maybe look more into it, your baby would have an amazing group of uncles and aunts to love and protect them,” Nat assured, giving you a knowing smile that even if you did decide to raise a baby alone. You and the baby would have plenty of support from Avengers, and the few family members who stuck around once you left.

“Not to mention, you would also make the best mother and pregnancy would look stunning on you,” Wanda added. Both of them agreeing on the fact that a growing baby bump would suit you well.

“I don’t know guys, maybe I’m better off-“

“Not to intrude but if you so desperately want a child, I could offer you a solution to that cause.” A familiar velvet voice spoke up.

All of your attention turning the Asgardian trickster who sat reading a book, delicately turning the next page.

Nat and Wanda eyeing the both of you, silently pleading that you wouldn’t give in to his flirtatious ways.

“Y/N….Don’t. He’s just trying to get into your pants,” Nat snarled. Seeing you contemplate his offer.

“Oh, Romanoff, but what if I already have been inside her pants,” Loki taunted. His eyes flicking up from the page he was reading to send the redhead a sinister grin.

“You can’t be serious…” Nat appalled, “Y/N!”

Shrugging at their questioning looks, you picked at the skin of your fingers. Nat huffed as she sat back, crossing her arms like a tantrumed child. Wanda shaking her head while giving you a disapproving look.

Loki presumed, “As I was saying. I am more than willing to assist you in bearing a child of your own. Seeing as you have come to your wits ends,” flipping another page.

Bewildered by his sudden offer, you felt your body tremble at the idea of being able to grow a child inside. Not only a child but your child. Loki’s child.

He wasn’t bad looking at all, hell, he was a literal God sculpted by the man above himself. A complex yet intriguing personality as you both have had your ways with each other. Not really friends, nor just casual acquaintances who worked together.

“Take some time to cogitate your options. You know where to find me,” Loki reassured, closing his book as he stood up to leave. Allowing you to sit in your thoughts.

“I still think you could find someone better to father your children, someone who doesn’t have a past,” Wanda spoke, Nat agreeing with her on looking more into this.

Whatever this was. But your heart was set, you wanted a child and if Loki could offer you that, then so be it.

“It’s a child, it will be my child. Loki may have a rough past but I’ve gotten to know him. He’s proven himself to be a good figure to father a potential child,” you stated.

“Well, whatever you decide, we’ll be here for you and your blessing. All of us.” Nat patted your shoulder, Wanda giving you a reassuring squeeze as they left. Your mind racing as you thought of the endless possibilities.

- - -

Fumbling with the material of your shirt, you found yourself at the foot of his door. Heart racing as you contemplated actually knocking or turning around to leave. What if he wasn’t being serious? What if he only said that to get into my head?

Not having any time to react as his door flew open. His blue-green eyes staring right into your own, your body screaming at you to run. Your cheeks heating up while you quickly turned around flushed in embarrassment.

“Wait,” his cold fingers grasping your wrist, “Please. I need to talk to you.”

You sighed, turning around to face him. Slowly, walking past him into the familiar chambers. The smell of cypress and faint cologne hitting your senses. A color of green and gold decked his room, the sofa you both shared your first intimate moments catching your eye.

Silence engulfing the room as your eyes roamed the space you had spent so many nights. Looking to observe everywhere else but him while he scrutinized you.

Loki finally speaking up, “I know I scared you with my sudden…how do you say it…forwardness, I apologize but I am serious about giving you a child.”

Your heart pounded as you looked at him. Sincerity written all over his face while you went over his words in your head. Even though you and Loki have had sex countless, and I mean countless of times. You had never talked about having children. Let alone a relationship as you both agreed that you preferred to stay fuck buddies. Far from being friends but close enough to let you find and obtain pleasure from each other.

“Why on Earth would you want to have a child? I thought you were only in it for the sex,” You faltered, unsure if he actually wanted the responsibility of caring for a child.

His strides towards you slowly coming closer, “Darling, I’m more than quite aware that we were both in it for the sex. But seeing as you want a child of your own so badly, why not try?” Now standing right in front of you.

“We are both more than capable to raise a child given our desire to give one a better upbringing than we both had,” referring to the night you both had trauma dumped on each other about your messy, complicated childhoods.

“You really want this?” You asked, eager and hopeful that he would reassure you once more before jumping into a lifetime of parental responsibilities with you.

“Yes, I do. But, darling,” he grabbed ahold of your shoulders gently, eyes searching, “do you want this?“

Mind already made up even before you stepped foot at his door, you nodded. “Yes, yes I want this.”

Closing the gap between you two, he engulfed you in a passionate kiss. You slightly gasped, caught off guard by his sudden movements as you melted into the kiss. The familiar softness of his lips hungrily meeting yours.

His rough yet cold hands roaming your body, your own running through his tousled dark locks. Tugging and gripping while moans left his lips, still on yours. Pulling you towards his bed as the back of your legs hit the soft mattress, sending you both on top.

The kiss you exchanged heated, both of you desperate to touch each other properly. Breaking apart from the kiss, Loki looked down at you with lust-filled eyes. A softness clouding over them as his fingers grazed the collar of your shirt. This side of him completely new to you from his usual dominating, rough demeanor.

“May I?” He asked, delicately tugging at the fabric as his eyes searched yours for any uncertainty.

Grabbing his wrist, “Loki, I trust you,” you reassured him. Knowing this time would be different than the others. As Loki wanted to have his time with you.

To focus all his attention on not only making you feel good but making love to you. 

Something so foreign to the both of you, Loki slowly taking his time to kiss every inch of your body. Using his magic to rid of both your clothes, leaving you only in your underwear. His lips making their way from your collar bone to the inside of your thigh, sucking on the skin to leave bruises. Marking you officially as his.

“Loki…I-Ohhh” you moaned, his fingers sliding your underwear down as he attached his lips to your folds. Head nuzzled between your thighs as he kneeled, your core pulsing.

Watching him suck the bundle of nerves, the arousal in your heat pooling. The sight of him flicking his tongue while he swirled that silver tongue of his on your area driving you feral. Your hands gripping his hair while you pushed his head further, feeling your stomach tighten.

His moans vibrating against your cunt, sending you even further into your climax. Still violently flicking and licking your fingers with every swish of his delicious tongue. You panted heavily, the pace of his swirling and sucking quickly increasing until you came hard.

Humming in approval, Loki looked up at you. His eyes clouded with arousal and lust while he licked his lips. Collecting the remaining of cum before swiping his tongue on the inside of your thighs.

“Devine like always, my love,” he praised. A smirk being sent your way while you eyed him, the bulge more than evident as his cock restrained against his boxers.

“Do you trust me?” You asked, eyes meeting up at his blue-green ones. Still needing the reassurance that he was comfortable with you pleasing him.

His eyes softening again, still not used to someone asking for his consent. A small smile on his face, he grabbed your hand before giving it a squeeze.

“I trust you.”

Giving him a quick kiss, you tugged his boxers down. Your eyes now leveled with his hardened length as his tip glared at you red and angry. Slowly pumping his cock, you ran your hands up and down his shaft. Feeling him tense under your touch, you began to work your mouth on his tip.

Swirling your tongue around his tip, collecting a few drops of pre-cum. Loving the taste of his seed on your tongue. Arousal soaking your folds again while you thought about him filling you.

“You taste heavenly, my King,” you hummed. His cheeks flushing a tint of red at your praises.

Grasping his length by the shaft, you forced it down your throat. The tip hitting the back of your throat while you choked back a gag. Your saliva coating his cock as you began to hollow your cheeks in and out. Creating a sucking motion as you slid his cock up and down, Loki’s moans filling your ears sending you in a spiral. His fingers knotting through your hair to shove your head further.

“J-Just like that.”

“You feel so good.”

“Norns! Oh. Fuuuuck. Keep going.”

His moans filled the silent room, continuing to fist your hair while he face fucked you. Tears running down your cheeks with every thrust of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Grabbing the back of his muscled thighs to get a better grip for stability.

“Fuck this-“

In a shift motion, Loki flipped you on your stomach with your ass on full display. Hearing the rustling of the sheets as he climbed on the mattress behind you. Grabbing the tip of his cock to teasingly run up and down your folds.

A moan leaving your lips while you withered beneath his touch, growing desperate to feel him inside of you again.

“Use your words, darling. What do you want me to do you?” He nipped the skin at your ears, sucking lightly.

“I….want you,” your breathe hitched as the tip of his cock filled your entrance, shutting your eyes tightly.

“What was that? I need your words.” He halted. Your core aching, begging for more to fill it’s velvet walls.

Little shit. You rolled your eyes, growing impatient by the second to just take his dick in your own hands. His hands grasping your arse before smacking one cheek.

“Where’s that little silver tongue of yours? I said use your words,” he demanded. His hand sliding to graze your throat, lightly squeezing it.

“Ohh. Fuck. Loki, I want- I need you to fuck me. Fill me with all of your seed until it’s dripping out of me. Till my stomach is swollen with your child. Fuck me-“

A strangled moan left your lips as Loki thrusted into you, hard and fast. Leaving you no room to breathe while you struggled to catch your breathe. The wind knocked out of you as he continued to thrust into you from behind.

“Yes. Loki, fuck me. Just…just like that.” You panted.

Feeling completely feral as the bed rocked. Loki’s movements harsh and rough, railing into you from behind. His hand around your throat while he pounded into you underneath. The tip of his cock hitting your g-spot sending moan after moan to leave your body.

His grunts in your ear while he held you flushed against his chest, leaning your head to fall back onto his shoulder. Sweat dripping down both of your bodies as the room grew thick with heat and arousal.

“I’ll fill you with my seed….Have you begging for more. Having you wish that I could fuck you this good every single night while your swollen with our child,” Loki breathed, his own pants in your ear as you moaned at his taunts.

Roughly pulling out his cock before flipping you over. Your back hitting the mattress while you lifted your legs up, wrapping them around his waist. Loki thrusting back into you like he never pulled out, both of you keeping eye contact while tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Harder…Loki, harder.” You pleaded desperately, needing him to pick up his pace.

The coil growing in your stomach as you peaked in your high. Thrust after thrust, Loki added more force, quickening before finding another steady rhythm. An ache growing between your legs, a definite sign that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Your nails dragging along his back only to pull him in for another kiss. Not having enough to taste of him, you moaned into his mouth. His thrusts never faltering as his cock twitched inside of you. Clenching your walls around his thick shaft, pushing him to release as hot spurts of his come filled you. Your own release mixing with his while he slowly thrusted inside of you. His lips still entangled with yours, nipping at your bottom lip while your tongues swirled. Tasting every bit of each other.

Breaking away from the kiss, Loki brushed his fingers along your eye. A few tears had fallen from the intensity and roughness of his handling. Both of you silently knowing that you could handle it and that you trusted each other.

He slowly pulled out of you, massaging the inside of your thighs before placing a delicate kiss on them. Leaving to get a wet towel as he gently cleaned your folds. A hiss leaving at your soreness and the harsh sensitivity of your nerves.

“Sorry, I know you hate this part,” Loki apologized.

You always loved how attentive and loving he was after sex. He always took care of you even if you wanted to rush out, he still made sure that you were okay after being so vulnerable.

“It’s not your fault, I appreciate you taking care of me after this” You smiled, still feeling on cloud nine from the work of his cock and tongue on you.

“I’ll be taking care of you nonstop for nine months then a little mini version of us for a lifetime,” he joked.

Your heart fluttered, still in awe of the fact that someone would want to have a child with you. Let alone Loki.

Shaking your head, “I still can’t believe you want a child with me. Why?” Still in denial of the possibility of actually getting to bear a creature of your own. And of his.

Loki’s eyes furrowed, “Why not? You’re one of the most selfless and courageous people I have ever known. Since the day I met you, I knew how much love you had to give. Love that you even gave to me, a complete monster.” His eyes leaving your face at his heartbreaking confession.

Grabbing his hand, you forced him to look at you. “Loki, you’re not a monster. There’s more to you than your past. You are worthy of love, all of it.” You asserted.

“Do you think I’ll make a great..father?” Loki stammered.

His hand nervously playing with yours while he let it silently dawn upon him that he was actually to be one.

“The best. Loki…you are not Odin, you will never be him. You will make an amazing father, a caring one who will give his child the best upbringing that is full of love.”

Loki’s eyes welled up, getting choked up by your words.

He always dreamt of being a father. A better one than Odin ever was to him. For he promised to love his child, to support them, to nurture them to safety, and to never make them feel of an outcast. As he prayed that his child would be given the childhood, the family that he so desperately desired to have.

[loki-cees-all]

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! 😭😭😭

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

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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[donaweasley]

The Tesseract

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Asgardian!Reader

Plot:

This takes place during Thanos’s attack on the Statesman. Loki, after making sure that as many Asgardians as possible, have been sent off in the pods, walks out of his cabin to go and face the Titan’s wrath.

Warnings: Angst.

Read time:~2 mins

She caught him just as he was about to walk out of the exit.

“Give me the Tesseract!” (Y/N) blocked Loki’s path.

The said cube was nowhere in sight but (Y/N) knew that he had it. It was not in the vault right before Asgard had exploded; so, the only possible explanation would be if Loki took it. And he would, certainly, given that he was still enthralled by the power the cube possessed.

Although Loki was taken aback by the sudden intrusion, he was quick to regain his composure. And to use his usual method of defence: donning a cold and hostile demeanour.

“Never!” He spat at her. He knew that it would be futile to even try to lie to her. No one knew him better than her.

(Y/N) took two careful steps towards him. If he was being cold, he definitely had something up his sleeve.

“It is not your burden to bear.” She extended a hand towards him, “Give it to me. I shall flee with it. Send me to some distant realm with your magic. Thanos will never notice that an insignificant Asgardian is missing! I shall keep it safe. Then when all of this is over, come and get me.”

“I know you will keep it safe.”

The sudden softness in the eyes and the words of the god took her by surprise.

“But,” Loki continued, “if you have this in your possession, Thanos will come after you. He will not stop until he hunts you down to the farthest corner of the universe! I cannot let that happen, no! Not to you!”

His confession swept the floor beneath her feet away. Was it pity that was swelling in the trickster’s eyes? For the woman who had loved him unconditionally all these years receiving nothing in return?

It must be that, she thought.

“But…”

Her words were left unspoken as Loki went on pouring his thoughts out before her.

“I had thought that I would keep it away from Thanos,” his distant eyes swam in the horrid memories of the past. “That I would save Asgard, the Nine Realms from him. If he gets his filthy hands on the Tesseract… (Y/N), he cannot find this! He plans to erase half the Universe… I am a sorcerer, a god! I can protect this better. So,” and just like that, he slipped into his aggressive armour once again, “let it remain with me.”

But (Y/N) was not convinced. She could not let him fight this alone. “If he gets you,” her voice wavered, “he will kill you.”

“He will not,” Loki assured her. “I shall be safe.”

“No, Loki-”

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

“What??”

She instantly recognised the mild glow that had started forming around the god. It could mean only one thing.

“Go with the others,” he instructed her. “When this is over, our people shall need you.”

“Loki, do not leave. Please!”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

The walls of the ship seemed to be swaying around her. This could not be true, could it? Loki loved her?

“I have always loved you… I always shall.”

“Loki, stop!”

But it was too late. The god had left. And if (Y/N) knew him correctly, she would probably never see him again.

***

Taglist:

@huntress-artemis @evelyn-kingsley @dryyoursaltyoceantears@modestlyabsurd

[pinkcutiepiee]

One more Day. [loki x gn!reader angst]

Masterlist

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.

[goddessofmischief]

Hi! Request for Loki/reader where Loki is convinced someone (maybe Wanda?) has cast a love spell on him as a prank, because he discovers he has feelings for the reader. Except nobody put a spell on him and he’s just in denial (typical Loki)

A/N: This is so cute!

✨ I Put a Spell On You - Loki x Reader ✨

...

“I know you did it.”

“Did what?” asked Wanda, absentmindedly stirring a pot.

Loki crossed his arms, leaning against a cabinet.

“A love spell. Clever, really. What was your plan? To make a fool of me? Humiliate me in front of your friends? Very well - you’ve done it. Now take it off.”

Wanda crossed her arms, glaring at him.

“Sorry, Loki. Didn’t do it.”

Loki grumbled something and strolled away.

He knew Wanda was lying - how could she not be? Otherwise, what explanation could there be for the way he smiled whenever you entered a room, the way his heart swelled every time you swept by and he smelled your strawberry perfume-

There was simply no other explanation for it. Wanda had put a spell on him, and that was that.

...Right?

Just then you came into the kitchen, carrying several unwieldy bags of groceries that Loki immediately recognized were far too heavy for you.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said automatically, wrestling the bags out of your grip. You grinned.

“Thanks, Loki.”

His knees went weak, and Wanda winked at him.

Oh, Norns.

He was in deep.

...

Loki Taglist (Open)

@k-reads7 @nebulousfishgills

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

sorry doesn’t bring them back

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

masterlist | navigation

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

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.

[jiyascepter]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Fanfiction Masterlist ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

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 :)

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TO BE UPDATED AS I POST MORE STORIES ! HOPE YOU ENJ0Y MY FICS ;)

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.

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...

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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➳ CHECK OUT THESE AMAZING FICS BY OTHER PEOPLE TOO !!

[hunny-beann]

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.

[ririsasaki]

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

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?’

Hope you enjoyed it!

Tags: @vbecker10 @simplyholl @mischiefmaker615 @lokisgoodgirl

Tell me if you want to be in my taglist!

[lokisninerealms]

Wasted Times

Synopsis: In which Loki can’t help but reminisce about an old lover while entangled with another.

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader

Category: Smut, Mild Angst/Fluff

Warnings: 18+ Content (Minors DNI), smut like heavy dirty *graphic-ish* smut, unprotected sex, angst, explicit language, mentions of sex addiction. your media consumption is at your own risk.

A/N: hi lovelies! this is my first time writing fanfic…like ever so please bare with me. i’ve had this piece in my mind for a while now and was sort of inspired by the song, “wasted times” by the weeknd. i have lots of room to grow and get better at writing, please let me know your thoughts! (and maybe reblog so others can view my work as i am new to tumblr) x

MASTERLIST

Moans and soft whimpers filled the dimly lit room as his hard length slid in and out of her slick folds. The sounds of skin slapping against each other, each thrust being rougher than the last. Room heavy with sweat and sex as their bodies connected in sensual ways. His heavy balls hitting the flesh of her ass every single time he slammed right back into her.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been going. Or how he had went from finishing up his last meal of the day in Asgards loud, rowdy dining hall to having an unknown maid bent over the edge his bed as he fucked her carelessly from behind.

All Loki knew was that he needed something to distract him, to fulfill him, to numb him.

Flipping the unknown maid over so her back was flush against the bed, he lifted her legs above his broad shoulders. The feeling of this new angle, the tip of his cock hitting her g-spot perfectly, causing foul words to fall from her mouth. He watched as his dick pulled out of her swollen cunt before watching it disappear again.

His lips captured hers, feeling the warmth of her body pushed up against his. Her lips were soft, smooth like honey, as they melted into his. Fingers roughly tugged his raven locks causing a low growl to escape his lips.

His fingers gripped her hips, pushing her even closer against him as he continued to pound into her. Lips bruising her delicate skin as he explored her body. Loki was in a trance, utterly intoxicated by the woman beneath him. She was devine in every way.

The way her warm pussy took him whole, like her body was made for him, and him only. How she felt wrapped in his arms. Bodies melting into each other as if they were one. To the sweet, sweet scent that engulfed him of lavender and vanilla on her skin. He couldn’t get enough of her.

“Loki…Oh, Loki….you feel so good, my prince” His cock twitching inside of her at the many praises she gave him. Eyes roaming her body as he watched her breasts bounce up and down. Pulling in for another kiss, tasting of wine, as his tongue intertwined with hers. Her pussy began to clench around his length, her release building up from the stimulation. The two engulfed in each other as they completely ravished each other, the intensity of their arousal coursing through their bodies. Loki’s thrusts becoming sloppy, lacking any sort of rhythm, as warm ropes of his seed filled her.

Screams erupted as the maid came around his aching, hardening cock. Interrupting the burdening memories that lingered in Loki’s head. Soaking him completely as he continued thrusting into her. How long had he been daydreaming?

The last couple of lousy thrusts leaving his body before he came down from his own high. Loki pulling his cock out, their combined juices leaking out of her, as a whimper left her lips. He stood up, wincing as his muscles ached from the intensity of their activities. Grabbing the scattered clothes that had been thrown off when they had entered his room.

“Put these on,” he spat as he tossed the clothes towards the girl. Pulling the wrinkled white dress over her head, he tapped his foot impatiently. Before staring up at him.

His icy-cold stare causing shivers to run through her body. “Leave.” The one word leaving his lips, his tone even colder.

The maid still sat on his bed, fumbling with her hands as she looked at his terrifying stance. Loki grew irritated, “I said leave, why are you still fucking here?”

Hurriedly, the maid scrambled before flustering, “My apologizes, my prince, I hope to have fulfilled your satisfactions. If you would like-“

“No, you did not satisfy me. Nothing, no one, will ever satisfy me. Your duty here is done,” he snapped. Watching the maid scurry away in fear that Prince Loki would lash out. A continuous cycle it became, Loki picking a random maid to fuck his loneliness and anger away before discarding them. He left no room for aftercare, tossing each girl like they were nothing. Sex became his fix, his aid, the only thing that could solve the hole in his chest and the ache in between his thighs.

Leaving to head to his bath, filled with candles and scented salts. He ushered the servant away, desperate to soothe his muscles and relax his mind. Sinking into the warm water, his lean arms resting above the rim of the tub as he sighed in content.

“Loki, come here” the soft voice called out. Loki stirred from his sprawled out position on the bed. Still in complete bliss from one of the many orgasms he just had. The silk, emerald green sheets slid off his body as he moved to head towards where she was.

She stood, still nude from the sinful acts they had just done. Her body glistening in sweat as she sunk down into the bath. Looking at him with lust and admiration, her eyes drinking him in from head to toe. Taking a couple extra seconds to stare at his dick. Moving forward, to motion for him to sit behind and join her.

Loki grinned, stepping in to sit behind his lover. He pulled her closer, earning a squeal from her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Leaning down so his lips grazed her collar bone, peppering kisses all the way up to the shell of her ear. Everything about this act was vulnerable for him. She tilted her head ever so slightly to look up at him, staring into his loving eyes.

“Promise me, this is forever?”

“This is forever.” He smiled. Closing the gap between them, his fingers pulling her in for a kiss.

The ache in Loki’s chest grew as a memories of him and her spiraled in his mind. His chest tightened as images of them clouded any conscious, and unconscious, thought he had. Tugging at his dark curls, Loki groaned as he rubbed his fingers between his brows.

Memories of them, the good and the bad, conjured his mind. He still remembered how she felt. Remembering every little detail of her, the way her smile always reached her eyes. Always so genuine and full of life.

How she tasted on his tongue, so delicious and sweet. While her body always molded so perfectly with his in sensual and affectionate ways. The body that he loved to touch, to admire, to please, to taste, to ravish.

How his name always rolled so perfectly off her tongue. The sound of her voice, always stirring something inside of him, whether it was lust or love.

How she knew everything about him; from his kinks in the bedroom to all of his likes and dislikes to his deepest, darkest secrets. She knew it all. She knew him.

How breathtaking and ethereal of a goddess she was, both inside and out. As corny as it was, truly, she was a rare beauty. A rare beauty that could only be found once.

Loki wasn’t sure how long he was in the tub. Surely, time had stopped as every single thing reminded him of her. Deciding to finally step out, he dried himself off as he climbed into bed. The empty bed that she once laid in.

Where was she now? How is she doing? Was she up thinking about him, just like he is of her, right now? Does she miss him just as much, maybe more than, he misses her? Or was she tangled up with an-

No. Loki wouldn’t allow himself to finish that thought.

But Loki knew one thing, it would always be her. Her who has his heart. It would always be her who has his soul.

[puffberries]

hello there! saw that your requests are open and thought i'd drop one :)

i was thinking something with loki and avenger!reader.

he's staying at the compound helping on a mission and has to work alongside the reader. they met before in asgard and fell for each other but she had to leave, so now they are kinda awkward.

please with the fluffiest end you can fathom!!!! thanks lovely xx

Come Back - L.L

word count: 2.2k

warnings: internal conflict, mentions of family illness, angst, fluffy ending

summary; you had left loki in asgard. when he shows up on earth, you both have to face the mistakes you made

a/n: lmao this is a hot mess and it’s my squishy and i will call it squishy and it will be my squishy

You had promised to come back.

A soft summer wind twisted through your hair, tangling it up in knots. Loki buried his hands in it. He bathed in the warmth at the base of your neck, sharing a stolen smile.

It seemed so simple then. A guarantee that your love would last forever. A happiness that would never fade.

You pressed your forehead to his.

“Come back to me,” He whispered.

“Always.”

------

His hair was longer. And it looked softer. You guess he had stopped slicking it back as much, letting his harsh spikes grow into curls.

He looked older. You guess you didn’t expect him to be.

You weaselled your way to the back of the welcome wagon, keeping your head down. From the way Tony had talked, you were only expecting Thor. Thor and his bright smiles, his unconditional friendship. Raven hair and a scowl materialised next to him when they arrived on the rooftop lawn.

Your promise crept up your throat, guilt settling in your stomach. You were horrified. 

In all fairness, Loki had never expected to see you again. In the first few months, he held onto everything he could. The shape of your face, the lull of your voice. His dreams were filled with the flowery scent on your skin, the way it shone in the afternoon sunlight.

Months passed, and then a year, and Loki reconciled with the fact that you weren’t coming back.

He tried to forget you then. He buried himself under his covers, surrounded himself with books and tried to will you away.

He watched as you turned your back and walked away from him.

This wasn’t fair. 

“We believe HYDRA was starting to experiment on it,” Steve explained, “Obviously, they didn’t get very far, considering there was no data on it whatsoever.”

You were all huddled in Tony’s lab, peering into the suspension chamber that you had helped him build. It was an orb, wrapped in ancient gold, engraved with dead writing. It used to be only you in there, working endless days and nights, analysing wavelengths and samples.

“Actually, it was {y/n} who identified the writing as Asgardian,” Tony huffed, twirling a pen between his fingers, “Couldn’t’ve been me, all I see is gibberish.”

Loki looked at you, his eyes burrowing under your skin. You met his gaze and his eyebrows furrowed, looking back up at the artifact.

“I-” You wanted to tell him you remembered. That you treasured those days with him.

“It looks like some sort of ceremonial relic,” Thor erupted, stepping forward to take a closer look, “A funeral artifact, perhaps? What do you think, brother?”

Your words were swallowed in the conversation that followed. You tried to listen to what Loki was saying, but it felt like your brain was rejecting his voice. You heard Thor and Tony talking about HYDRA and leads and you knew you needed to pay attention. Your gut was wrenching.

 You zoned back in when Steve called your name.

“Are you gonna be ok working with Loki on this thing?” 

You wanted to say no. You wanted to leave, to get out and run away again like you did years ago. You couldn’t face him, you knew you wouldn’t last.

“Sure.”

You felt like you were walking on eggshells. The lab was quiet always, the two of you working separately, far from each other. Part of you wanted to reach out and touch him. You knew he would shy away if you did.

You only spoke at the beginning. You sat down across from one another, knees grazing, and you tried your best to coherently explain your research. Loki listened intently, and his hand would brush against yours when he reached to look at scattered papers across the table.

This was torture for you too, surely.

He wanted so badly to talk to you, like he once had. To hear your laugh, and see your smile. A dark, deep part of him hated you for leaving, he knew it, but so much of him still loved you. So much of him couldn’t stand the empty way you looked at him. What once was so much tenderness and care in your eyes, was now a cold and dark abyss.

The days passed, and you both fell into your routines. Days of silent work and reassuring hums, little words of agreement. You didn’t often disagree with each other. After all, he was the Asgardian with centuries of magical knowledge. And you were an astrophysicist.

Well, Loki had a bit of a superiority complex about him.

It was a late night for you. Usually, you would leave the lab long before Loki, looking to avoid having to make some kind of small talk in the hallways, but that night you stayed. You had picked up a slight heat signature in the artifact that Loki wrote off as,

‘Simple magic, for ceremonies and such.’

But something had nagged at you. You couldn’t name it, the eerie feeling, so you decided to camp in the lab until you could.

You were about half asleep at your desk when a sharp ringing shook you very much awake. You peered through the open door. No one was moving around, and the rest of the floor was completely quiet.

It was coming from your computer.

WARNING. AIR PRESSURE DECREASE IN SUSPENSION CHAMBER

You spun around. The artifact was mulling around on the floor of the chamber like a dead weight, but the flashing red warning was clear enough.

The heat signature was increasing.

You could run to Loki. You could beg him to fix things, to magic something up and make sure you didn’t lose your job. You were sure he would do that for you.

Loki would take too long. You needed to fix things now.

The pressure valve was on the top of the chamber. You needed something to get up there.

A ladder. A ladder.

A heavy sleep haze still set in your head, you rolled the ladder over to the chamber and climbed, not taking a second to think about anything but the harsh alarm in your ears and the sounds of the artifact rolling around and hitting the glass.

You weren’t really sure of what happened next. It all happened so quickly.

Your hand came flying off the valve, and you felt your body go with it. A bright, energising light engulfed you and a sharp ringing in your ears drowned out everything. It felt like death.

“{y/n}!”

When you opened your eyes again, Loki was cradling you in his lap, slumped against a far wall of the lab. He was holding you so tight to him, trying to keep you from touching the mess of glass and metal on the floor. Like you were the purest thing on this planet and everything around could contaminate you with simple contact.

He couldn’t look at you. Dead or alive, he couldn’t look at you.

His body was jolted awake the moment the alarm rang out. Peering his head out the door of his apartment, the hallways were empty and dark, save for the light shining through the open doors and large glass windows of the lab. He figured that’s where you must be, fixing whatever had been broken. He had begrudgingly, in his slippers and pjs, made his way down the hall, fighting the urge to crawl back into the warmth of the bed. The least he could do was help so that the alarm would shut off and he could get back to sleep.

By the time he got to the door, it was too late.

For the first time in a while, as the effects of the blast were subsiding, you felt comfortable with Loki. Comfortable in his arms, the way you used to. You hadn’t realised exactly how much you had missed that.

Then you remember why it ended in the first place.

It was all your fault.

You lied to him.

You sprung out of his lap as quickly as your body could manage, concern and relief written over Loki’s face. You looked down at him, clearing your throat and brushing debris off you, before looking over to the utterly destroyed artifact.

“The artifact!”

“The what?” Loki asked in disbelief, watching as you scrambled over the aftermath and sifted through it with your bare hands.

“Loki, the artifact, my work-”

“Damn your work!” He grabbed you by the wrists, stopping you in your tracks. Both of you were breathless, “You almost died!”

You started fighting against him, in hopeless attempts to salvage what you could. “Loki, I spent months of my life on this! This work, this data is everything to me!”

“You spent months of your life with me and I was NOTHING to you!”

You stopped, pulling away from him. His hands were shaking. Tracks of old, forgotten tears were drying as his face flushed.

“You know that’s not true.”

“Then why!” His anger was bubbling, rearing its head in a frightening form.

This was the conversation you dreaded. The answer to the unasked question. You fought down the sickness in your stomach as you looked at him, desperation in his eyes.

This was the question he had been asking himself for two years. The source of his nightmares that rattled him, broke him. He wanted to love you, so very badly.

“My mother was sick.”

He watched you. If something inside him reacted, he didn’t show it. You were staring deep into a man full of rage, and hurt.

You caused this.

You brought this on yourself.

You sighed shakily, “She was really sick. And you-you were talking about whisking me away! To some-some far off realm where I couldn’t-I couldn’t be with her!”

“I didn’t know!” He snipped in response, holding his hands to his chest like a wounded dog.

“I know!” You were crying now, real, hiccuping tears, “I just-I just- I didn’t know what to do! I couldn’t just leave her!”

“So you left me?” He was nearly screaming now, the contents of his heart and head spilling out in front of him as he fidgeted. Too many emotions that he couldn’t name, “With no explanation?”

Admittedly, some deep, dark, twisted part of him wanted you to hurt. Hurt as he did when he lost you, when he thought you dead. You had promised to come back to him.

Yet how many times have you broken promises, Loki?

He watched as you backed yourself into a corner, slumped down with your head in your hands.

The sickness was coming now. It was rising up your throat fast and all you really wanted to do was hurl yourself into oblivion. Loki was so hurt. You wanted to tell him how much it hurt you to leave. Your guilt was unfathomable. You shook with your sobs.

“I’m a coward. I’m a coward, I’m so sorry, Loki. I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. There are a million sorry’s I could give you and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

He broke then. Not just 15 minutes ago you had almost died in his arms. Loki was convinced you were dead. He cried real, strong tears then as he held you. He was filled with regret. And now you were too. You were shrinking out of the world, from a man you were convinced didn’t want you. 

“You will never have a need to return to Midgard again, my love,” He had said once. He had forgotten the way you looked at him when he said those things. He had just wanted you, needed you so badly by his side. Always.

“It is beneath you,”

“You have everything you want here, with me.”

He had said those things to you, blind of your connections, your tethers to the mortal realm. This was your home. He was asking you to leave everything you had behind, and he didn’t wait for you to answer.

He didn’t listen then. But he was listening now.

All he could hear was crying.

He knelt down beside you, surrounded by debris, the midnight stars shining brightly on him. He took your hands from your face, holding them gently in his.

 “My love, my love, my love.” He chanted in whispers. Pressing his head to yours, he could feel you hiccup against him as you struggled to swallow a sadness you did not need to carry, “My love, I am sorry.”

“Sorry?” You sniffled, taking a hand away to wipe your nose on your sleeve, “Why should you be sorry? I left you.”

“I made you feel like you had to leave.”

“No, no. I broke my promise and I left you, Loki, I-”

He chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours, “Just accept my apology you stubborn, stubborn creature.”

He held you closer than you felt he ever had, daring not to let you go. Not even as he stood, shuffling across the floor of glass and wires, holding you to his chest as he brought you back to his apartment. Back to safer waters, where you melted against him, against his touch.

He stroked your hair as he watched your eyelids fall, a small yawn escaping your lips.

“Loki?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I love you, I never-” yawn “Stopped loving you.”

He let his arms slip down to your waist, holding you in a gentle embrace as your breathing levelled out. He knew then that even if he woke up to your absence, you would always come back.

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Prince is Dead [Asgard!Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Shaken by Loki's death on Svartálfheim, you confront the one you blame the most. Odin. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: Angst. Set between TDW and Ragnarok. Mentions of death. Heartbreak. Violent imagery. Melt to fluff (implied)

The sun still rose in the North and set in the South, the way it always did. Clattering swords rang from the training ground, each echo of distant laughter another stake through your chest. But Asgard's golden turrets would still shine garishly in the morning light. As ever it was, so it shall be.

You wrapped a thin shawl tighter around your arms. The Prince is dead, you thought, biting back a sigh. The majestic façade was dulled behind the drape of your mourning veil, grey and lifeless. Or perhaps, you just finally saw things as they truly were.

Five moons had since risen and ebbed while you had lain half-alive in your chambers. Sleep descended in snatches, an unwelcome friend. And of course, you had dreamt of him.

His shadowed smile glancing back as he led you through winding palace paths. His face turned to the ceiling in the bed you shared, frozen in anguish. Bloodless with deep blue veins wound in spider patterns across lifeless cheeks. Or his kiss fastening to your own, a loving whisper of your name on warm lips as he melted into you. When you would wake, that dream was the worst of all.

The Prince is dead, a guard had told you with no emotion. With no sympathy. You had waited until he had retreated to sink to your knees, body racking with silent, violent sobs. No one had seen you cry, though. Loki would have approved.

You assumed that your place within the palace was forfeit. By tradition, you should have been removed immediately. Perhaps Thor had intervened to allow a period of mourning. If he had, it would be the one decent thing he's ever done. You pondered that thought bitterly for a moment, wishing he'd used that sliver of kindness to bring Loki's body home instead.

But either way, it didn't matter now.

You inhaled shakily while nervous fingers wound through the thick fabric of your skirts. To anyone else, they would look black. But in truth they were the deepest, darkest green. A waft of fragrant spice rolled on the wind across the balustrade from the markets, heating the cool air. Gods, how you missed him.

The anger, you would admit, had taken you by surprise. When your face wasn't buried in Loki's pillow, inhaling his waning scent between shuddering tears - it was anger. Only that.

It was anger that had brought the fine Asgardian sculptures in your rooms to their undignified end. Anger that fuelled the plot which burned and blossomed in your mind while shadows danced the walls. Anger that urged to you don silken armour this morning, to parade yourself as bait.

It was anger that kept your head high while you rode the whispers following you like smoke. Anger, you had found, was more of a comfort than remembering. A locket bearing Loki's initial hid beneath your bodice, blossoms from the tree beneath which he had first kissed you preserved inside. A gift. One of his prize daggers was strapped to your thigh, and with every step to your final destination, the cool blade kissed your skin.

Your fingertips steadied on the balustrade wall as a ceremonial clatter of guards approached. Eyes fixed on the old town, you composed yourself. The breeze made the dark veil flutter. There was a single heavy clang as twenty spears hit the marble floor in unison. A growl of stand back broke the heavy silence. The guards complied.

"Why do you mourn him so?" a voice rasped. "You are finally free."

The King's words were thick as he rustled beside your shoulder. Beneath the veil, your frown deepened. "Even from you Allfather, I would expect more sensitivity." you muttered. Odin drew up to his full height, observing the spread of his kingdom with a sanctimonious smirk. Patience, you thought. The absence of your bow was treasonous, and it would have been noted. He let out a forced laugh, meaty hands clasping behind his back. "I expect you may have thought that you loved him. But you did not know him as I did."

"You're right, I didn't."

It was surprising how easily the words came. Strong and clear and crisp. "I knew his heart."

Odin chuckled. "His heart," he mocked. "That you think he had one betrays your naivety. Go, now. Be free."

Bravery welled in your belly like a swollen river, pushing a prick of tears to your eyes. You felt like you might burst. You were suddenly glad the old fuck couldn't see your face.

Patience.

With a god, time was something that could be counted on. Or, it should be. Time to grow and love and to be free. That was the plan for you and Loki. But now, time stretched before you like an endless, lonley void. A sentence. Odin and his arrogance had seen to that.

"You forget yourself Odin, son of Bor," you said; and for a moment, he looked genuinely shocked. Or is he impressed, you thought fleetingly.

"You lost a son-"

You raised a hand as his cracked lips began to move in predictable denial. "A son." you repeated firmly.

The word hung thick between you. "Asgard lost not just a Prince, it lost a protector. The one that shielded them from this palace and its ruler's whims."

Odin was silent.

"And I lost-"

A lump rose in your throat. Everything.

"I know what you lost, " the King spat. "The chance to be queen by the unsurper's side once he had slain the true heir. The chance to wallow in finery and filth encrusted sheets while that disgraced Jotun defiled you at any time of the day or night. Plotting."

You shook your head. And you couldn't help it. You laughed.

"For all your years, you know nothing. Nothing about truth, or destiny, or love. I see that now-"

"Love," Odin scoffed, cutting in." If you loved him, you were the only one who ever did. "

"I love him still," you murmured, turning towards the rolling mountains. Your fingers played at the hilt of the dagger through the slit in your gown. "Forget him." Odin sniffed, waving a hand. "You will be the better for it, we all will."

His loaded dismissal blew away any lingering doubt.

Loki's face flashed behind your eyelids, a vision of the day he had finally let you in to his solitary world. Golden specks of dust had swirled within a single beam of amber light cutting through the healing room. He had sat perched on a single bed, elbows resting on his knees. Despite the lengthy battle, his skin glowed luminous in the dying song of day. Deep wounds streaked across his stomach and ribs and back, purple bruises marring his skin like the darkest storm-clouds. His leather armour lay in a ragged pile by his feet. Blood crept from its crevices, seeping into the cracks of the stone floor.

You had cried then, too. Only once.

"It will heal," he had said, cupping your cheek with a strained smile. "Do not waste your worry."

"I can't help it," you'd replied, tracing your fingertips over a gash in his side. Loki had winced. As you watched, the skin began to stretch and meld millimetre by millimetre. "You shall have to become more stoic if you are to be my wife one day," Loki smiled. There was a pause, before he frowned. "Does it make you feel better? The worry?"

"Yes," you had answered truthfully. You curled a lock of damp hair behind his ear. Someone has to worry for you, you'd thought. Loki smiled again. "Then I'll allow it," he murmured softly, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. And he did.

A silent tear rolled down your cheek as your fingers crept around the daggers hilt. The peace of the realm would soon be broken. Wails of anguish would rinse the clouds, public displays of grief filling the air with heavy sighs and glowing orbs. It should have been allowed for your love, but it wasn't. Asgard should be in mourning, and soon it would be- you would make sure of that. You only wished you would be there to see it.

"He loved you all, and I'll never know why," you said solemnly, heat flushing your cheeks. "It was never deserved, never appreciated. Especially not by you." The final word darted like venom between your teeth.

Odin laughed. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"I never did understand him," he crooned, not deigning to look at you. The dagger slid from it's hold against your thigh. "You never tried." you whispered.

In the briefest of moments, you whipped the dagger with trained precision. The thin blade rested beneath the god's chin, digging into soft, fat flesh. From behind, the guards would see nothing.

"Ah," the Allfather hummed, tilting his head back ever so slightly. His stance never changed. "I commend your audacity my dear. Truly. But you see, I am not the monster that you think I am."

Something in his tone made you pause. You had been fully prepared to sink Loki's dagger into his throat without mercy. Ready to hear the wet gurgle of breath fighting blood. Escaping retribution from this was not an option, but you didn't want it. You wanted to see the look on Odin's face as the lights went out. You wanted to see his one staring eye glaze to the heavens as life left him. For him to know with his dying rattle that someone cared enough for Loki of Asgard to avenge him, no matter the cost.

"You are a monster," you panted through gritted teeth. An unnerving smile began to crawl across Odin's lips. "True," he said coyly. "But not the one you think I am."

Your eye twitched, taking in the opaque blue of his stare that suddenly sparkled with more life than you had seen in years. Your stomach churned, the hand holding the blade beginning to tremble.

"With my dagger too, how poetic," Odin whispered with a smirk.

You gasped, jumping back as the blade tumbled towards the ground. It disappeared in a flash of seidr before hitting the marble.

It can't be-

"Guards!" the Allfather thundered, straightening as they resumed their posts. "Show the Lady to my private chambers. There are matters regarding Prince Loki's memorial we must urgently discuss."

You saw the guards throw confused glances to one another as you stood slack-jawed beneath the veil. Odin raised your hand, placing a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

"It will heal," he murmured against your skin, before letting the hand fall limply to your side. The King leant closer, the ghost of his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Do not waste your worry."

The familiar words ricochet between your ears, heart thumping as you followed the jostling procession across the balustrade. It was all you could do not to faint. The implications, if your mind did not play tricks, were too vast.

So you decided to focus on the gait of the King as you placed one foot in front of the other. On the swagger that had not been there when you last spoke weeks before. As if the weight of another’s passion still hung between his thighs. He would not part with that. You smiled, feeling it grow as you watched the unmistakable way his shoulders swayed back and forth with each long stride. The undeniable spring in his step. Singularly focused, like another you had known. It held a promise. A hope.

It was a ten minute walk to the King's chambers.

So you focused on the sway of his shoulders. On the mischievous spring in his step. Only that.

A/N - I wrote this on the back of a bus in Morocco and haven't messed with it much - i do like the concept though, hope you do too! Thanks to @lokischambermaid for her enthusiasm when I first mentioned it a while back :) Love you! x If you want to see what 'after' might look like - check out Praise Him (smut) which is also based on this concept :) It's one of my earlier fics though and it shows 😂

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Dog Days

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.

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)

[lokisprettygirl]

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

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.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[mcufan72]

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

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.”

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃🌹🥂🌃

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