Loki Laufeyson X Reader - Tumblr Posts

hi! firstly, i appreciate you doing these types of things and i hope you take care of yourself as well! secondly, can i ask for a male mcu/marvel matchup?

I'm very usually shy and quiet. I don't talk to anyone unless I'm spoken to, and I usually get flustered at first. But after some warming up and letting my own walls down (thank you trust issues), I'm actually an enthusiastic and warm-hearted dork. Although, I'm shy, I try my best to be friendly and approachable simply because I know what's it like to be in their shoes. So, I guess you could also say I'm empathetic.

I love to read and write (my range is speeches to stories, and I usually am the editor/grammarian when it comes to school works). My favorite subjects and topics are usually centered towards the social sciences, my best bets being history and politics. I love learning about art, nature and fashion as well because I find everything around me to be pretty.

My friends say I'm very gentle, sincere and sweet because I'm encouraging and accepting self as well as being a helping hand and a shoulder to lean on when things get rough since I'm also told to be a good listener and observant. I'm very supportive as well and do my best to let them know that I always got their back and help in whatever way I can.

I consider them everyone who's not related to me but is also close to me, my family as well, so I do my best to make them happy and supportive. I try my best to be patient and kind to everyone I met, simply because I want to. I really don't like fighting so I'm often the peacemaker of the group and be collected as possible.

I'm also a bit strange and weird because of my interests and music tastes ( from classical to jazz, for example, and idk why that would be weird tho tbh) or for the fact I just know some random bits of history and other pop culture references in my jokes. I love watching movies and documentaries from time to time as well (disney has a very special place in my heart). I'm also into a lot of stuff from different cultures around the globes (shows and food are just one of the many).

It actually doesn't take that much for me to be happy, anywhere is fine so long as we're having fun, that's what matters to me, they're all the simple and small moments, and because of my independent nature as well. I have my quiet moments but I also have silly goofball moments as well.

I hope this mountainous paragraph didn't overwhelm you! Once again, thank you!! Stay safe and healthy as well!! :))💫💫✨💐

Hi! Thank you so much! I'm trying my best. Your music taste isn't weird at all, for example, I love rock, but also folkpunk and swing on top of that! So no worries. I match you with:

Loki

When you'd first meet, Loki would enjoy your quiet nature, because it would be a nice change from the bustle and hustle of the rest of the world.

He'd start seeking out your company, even though you haven't spoken to each other yet. He'd grab a book, find where you are and just sit in the same room, enjoying the peace.

As time would go on, he'd start making idle chit chat, maybe pointing out something funny from his book or he'd start to greet you or ask how you are. Maybe it's because he noticed how wary you are of him, looking at him from the corner of your eye as to deduce why he he is there.

He'll be very pleased to see you act friendly towards him, even though your nervousness is clear, get you to open up to him and show your adorable dorky side.

He finds out you are a great person, intelligent and kind!

Your sweet and gentle personality is something he especially adores, the way you can be kind to total strangers as if they are your long time friends, how supportive you are of everyone, helping them whenever they need.

He swore to himself that he would make sure no one is using you for your kind nature.

That said, sometimes Loki gets really down, seeing himself as a monster undeserving of someone so kind as you, but it's good that you are so helping, because you can always cheer him up again!

Loki loves your creativity and interests, he will read and/or proofread anything you write, help you with anything you need. Trust me, if you wanted to write a murder scene and you wouldn't be sure if what you had in mind would be possible, Loki would be capable of trying it out, just to test your theory.

He'd love to learn from you about anything and everything, from fashion, cooking, to random history facts! In turn, he'd love to teach you about Asgard and it's culture, tell you which parts of the Norse mythology are true and which aren't.

Honestly, I was contemplating who to write, because I had a few candidates to match you with, like king T'challa, Thor or Steve Rogers.

A moment of peace

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x reader x Sylvie Laufeydottir

Summary: A cuddle session between Loki, the reader and Sylvie, complete with some harmless bickering between the two gods <3

Warnings: none

A/N: You cannot imagine the queer panic I went through after watching the third episode of Loki. I just had to get this out of my mind. I love them both so so much (s e p a r a t e l y, I do NOT ship them), you wouldn't believe it. So here you go!

Was it in the morning, or during an afternoon nap, you didn't know and frankly, it didn't really matter. You were fairly sure you were alone and you were comfortable. The soft sheets wrapped around your body made a perfect cocoon with just the right temperature and the light coming from who knows where was softly kissing your closed eyelids. You felt calm and relaxed.

A soft sigh left your lips as the mattress dipped and a pair of arms circled your waist from behind. Before they could lock on your stomach, another person swatted them away and tried to replace them with their own. You couldn't help the smile that bloomed on your face.

"Hello love." You could hear the smile in Sylvie's voice. Oh, you loved her smile. Her usually so serious face lit up in the moments when she smiled. You knew she was truly happy and relaxed when she smiled like that. You loved to press kisses in the corners of her mouth, because they always lifted up so cutely and this action always made her smile even longer, prompting more and more kisses to her beautiful face.

"So you'll just pretend I'm not here?" grumbled your other lover from behind you. His arms pushed away Sylvie's, sternly but careful not to hurt you. He would rather die than cause you any discomfort. "Well, that was the plan." Sylvie smirked. You could hear Loki click his tongue. He snaked his arms around you and folded them firmly around your waist and pushed himself flush behind you.

"Oh don't hog them all to yourself! I'm their partner too!" Sylvie huffed and tried to pry Loki's arms away from you. That proved to be quite a difficult task, since she tried to do it in a way as to not bring you out of that blissful, half asleep state. "Why shouldn't I? After all, where would they rather be than in my arms?" Loki asked, his signature smirk plastered on his handsome face. "Oh, I don't know, in my maybe?" Sylvie challenged. Loki rolled his eyes "Oh please, don't be absurd..." Sylvie frowned "You know what? Let them decide."

After that, they both quieted down and you could feel theyir eyes on you. You thought for a moment, before reaching out your arms and grasping the front of Sylvie's cape, tugging her softly towards you. As she shifted closer to you, you could feel Loki slowly retract his arms and try to pull away from you, perhaps a bit dejected. Quickly, you pulled one arm away from Sylvie and grabbed your other lover's hand to stop it from leaving your body. Luckilly he got the message and wrapped his arms around you again. Sighing contently, you burried your face in Sylvie's chest. Sylvie huffed with fake annyoance as Loki pressed himself against your back again, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. "Really? You couldv'e picked any other place." Sylvie said, but the kiss that fell on top of your head contrasted her words. "They're soft..." you slurred, prompting both gods to chuckle.

And then it was quiet again. Only the sounds of your breathing filled the space where you three layed. There was no rush, there was no danger. It was a safe space where they could come to...let go. And you would wait for them. Forever and always.

Honour

Summary: Reader came to the TVA after trying to mess with time to save her father, Tony Stark. Now she’s trying to save the universe with the God of Mischief. Based off that hill scene in 1x06 of Loki but kinda sadder and cuter.

Warnings: TVA!Loki is such a soft man I can’t-, mentions of Tony Stark d**th, based off that lucifer scene, fluff, hand holding *gasp*

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Fem!Stark!Reader

Characters: Loki Laufeyson

Word count: 1k

Keep reading

Headcanon for Loki Laufeyson, please? With a shy, ace SO who's easily embarrassed. If that's ok? Thanks!

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x gn!reader

Warnings: none

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long to write! I've been slipping back into depression and I'm getting hospitalized in a few days, so I've had a lot on my hands. But I've finally gotten the inspiration to create again, so I hope you'll like it! I've also tried to make this as gender neutral and race neutral as I could, but definitely tell me if there's something I could do better!

I personally think Loki wouldn't normally pick someone shy to be in a relationship with, but I have to say it, it's a little bit of a power trip for him.

I don't mean this in a bad way, not at all, he'd never take advantage of you in a way that would seriously harm you.

It's just...I guess you could say he feels a bit more...important? In a way? Useful? Yeah. He feels like there's finally someone who really needs him, either for protection or consolation.

Not that he thinks you can't take care of yourself! . . . Well maybe a little bit, at first, but he really can't help it!

He is naturally protective over people and things precious to him, but he still sees you as an equal, so if you tell him he's being overbearing, he'll ease down on the protectiveness.

If there's one thing he truly desires though, it's to show you off to the world. Whether it be taking you to numerous Asgardian balls or intergalactic gatherings. He is just very proud of you as a partner and wants everyone to be jealous. He swears you don't have to talk to anybody! He'll do all the talking abńd praising for you both, but his heart swells when he introduces you to someone and then sees your embarassed expression.

After a while he'd give you a break and take you further away from all that ruckuss and cup your face in his hands, to feel for himself how warm your cheeks are. If you really want, you'll leave the party early.

If you endure that, the next day (or few days) will be all about pampering and relaxing. He'll do stuff with you that you want to do and you'll have a nice day in, before you're ready for him to embarass you somewhere again.

But he enjoys the quiet days with you as much as the ones where he can show you off. The ones where you're simply...existing in each other's presence. It's quiet and nice and...domestic. And he loves it.

As for your sexuality (hello fellow aces!), he is very respectful. No matter what your relationship with sex is, he respects it. He won't deny that if he had the chance to, he'd worship every part of you and make you feel like the most beautiful person in the world, but he doesn't mind he won't get to do that in this particular way.

He completely understands that sex, while an important sign of intimacy for others, isn't really that important for some and he's totally fine with that.

Besides, he has other ways to make you feel beautiful and appreciated <3

Ugh my heart 🥺💚

yehhh like, tomorrow's the deadline for the manuscript of my first article in my phd thesis and here I am, crying over soft tender moron loki??? he's a dumbass, I want to punch him, and I love him

FROM THE VOID, WITH LOVE  |  petal-mouthed

summary: you didn't know you were in a love story.

pairing: loki / f!reader, slight sylvie / f!reader

a/n: more good luck for anons! happy loki eve, i hope you set aside some time to drink some water and breathe! this long one is for you. once more, a gif by @starlightcastiel from this stunning set here.

[   MASTERPOST   ]

Space is weird.

All of it. I mean — whole civilizations and technology you'd never even imagined. It's mind-bogglingly amazing when you think about it. But, just like back home, there are some things that run through the veins of life: work, family, and home security systems.

In this case, the home security system is simply a well-armed, older woman with a concussive cannon, but... y'know. Potatoes, potatoes.

As you watch Sylvie, then Loki, be blasted five meters off the aforementioned old woman's front porch, you can't help but think back to last Thursday. Or... the last Thursday you remember. Time has been so muddled on this little adventure. It sort of hurts your head to think about.

Anyways, the point is you never thought you'd be here — watching a God who tried to conquer New York and his blonde sort-of-sibling, sort-of-not fly through the air and skid in the dirt.

Though the sight of both of them being launched off the porch might have initially startled a terrified laugh out of you, you weren't really keen on learning what a concussive blast to the chest felt like. So there you stood, yammering on to this woman, apologizing profusely, and just trying to learn where everyone had disappeared to.

(To Sylvie's point, where people are, power is.)

It works, though.

Maybe she takes pity on you.

Your success earns you two unamused looks when you hop off the porch, wave once to the woman and thank her for her time. With an urgent look, you usher the two up, and as the three of your scurry away, you make a point to brush off dirt from Loki's shoulders as he stalks ahead of you.

"You alright?"

"Worrying over me now, bug?" he asks with a hidden smirk, "That's adorable."

"Yeah, well that didn't exactly look like the most fun thing in the world," you supply tossing a look over your shoulder to Sylvie as she rubs her ribs and exhale tightly, "But at the very least we know where we need to be headed."

Sylvie scoffs. "We'll be lucky if we get there in time."

You are lucky. The three of you do get there in time, but not by much.

Just like before, back at that abandoned bar, the hairs on your neck stand up.

The long line winding along the train platforms seems to not matter at all — after all, there are people in glittering dresses and starched suits wandering up to present tickets, climbing towards their first class compartments. The second fiddle has been passed off to the families, to the elderly, to then children; all of which wait with pleading looks as guards coral them into waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

You try to ignore the churn of bile that stings that back of your throat; but this is how it is. How it will be.

Something don't change.

Jeff Bezos would be proud, you suppose.

Loki seems to notice your discomfort.

"Well, this looks fun," he offers in attempt to dispel your anxiety.

You and Sylvie give him a look. The God, behind you raises his hands in surrender.

"We can't fight our way onto that train," he mutters quietly as the three of you stalk along.

"Who said anything about fighting?" you ask, leaning back and talking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Not you," he says, gesturing to Sylvie with a jut of his chin, "All her plans involve fighting."

"Not this one," Sylvie says as she wets her lips and swaggers along. Her eyes roam the line, and linger on the guards checking tickets on top of the boarding platform, "I'm going to enchant a guard, have him lead us through the crowd, and if anyone gives us any trouble..."

"What? Start shooting?" you ask incredulously.

Loki speaks up, then, too. "Kill every guard? Hijack the train?"

Sylvie rolls her eyes at the two of you.

"Whether or not there's a fight is entirely up to them."

You groan quietly. "Not sure if you two haven't noticed, but the whole fighting thing isn't really my forte. I'm advocating for a plan that doesn't involve me getting my ass kicked—"

They have noticed, actually.

Loki's hands grip your shoulders. "We're doing this my way."

You blink. He pops over your over shoulder.

Sylvie turns, then promptly sighs. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

You eye Loki up and down. He clears his throat. Giving his hands a waggle, a bit of a tada moment, his excitement quickly falters when neither of you seem onboard.

"So are we... your prisoners?"

"Yes."

"Why can't I be some fancy mining heiress?" you ask, pouting slightly, "You can do the magic thing. Make me a cool dress."

"No."

"Well, why not?"

Loki's face falls flat. "Why does it matter — oh, come on, both of you."

"This is a shit plan."

"I agree with Sylvie," you mutter as she makes a face and does a once over of the dark-haired God behind you.

"Just follow my lead."

You're not exactly thrilled up have Loki's hand wrapped around your arm, but as he leads both you and Sylvie up the platform, you can feel his grip loosen a tad — and even then, you rest close to his chest as he clears his throat in greeting to the other guards.

You nearly lose it then and there.

"Taking these two to Shuroo."

Why... Why is he doing that?

You do a double look back at him, only to met with a slightly panicked look from Sylvie.

"Okay...?" the guard looks just as perplexed as you, "And the tickets?"

"Orders come from the top to get these two on this train," he bellows, leaning back into this... character.

You can't help the pained sigh that slip out fo your mouth. The young guard notices.

"Sir, this—"

Oh, thank god for Sylvie. She reaches quick, in a blink she's swallowed up the young man's mind in her grip. Though the ensuing conversation is by no means smooth, it gets the three of you on the train and that's really all that matters.

...The train.

It's beautiful. Like someone had taken Gatsby and Star Trek and mashed the two together until they got something that looked a little like those all-silver diners back home, but with a little bit more class. It's colorful and sleek and bustling with quiet conversation — it's clear that the three of you have wandered into the first class cabin by the looks of the bar and patrons.

You slide into a booth against the far wall, startled when Loki suddenly stops dead in front of Sylvie and blinks.

"Uhm, uh, look, I can't go backwards on a train."

He points to her spot. You watch with a slight smile.

"Well, I never sit with my back to a door."

"What?" Loki's eyes find yours as his nose scrunches and he questions his counterpart, "There are doors on both sides?"

You shrug, rub away your smile, and settle in.

"Just sit down, will you?"

Loki does, albeit a tad upset. His knees knock yours beneath the table and he apologizes in a rushed breath; his long legs fold underneath him as he struggles to get comfortable.

You watch Sylvie pin him with a glare.

Here we go.

You drop your chin into your hand and watch the two from the center of the table.

"FYI, that wasn't even a plan."

"Oh, really?"

"Plans have multiple steps. Dressing as a guard and getting on a train is just doing a thing—"

"Are you two done?" you ask, head bobbing as you rest it still in your palm. Your eyes are heavy. You're, honestly, feeling exhausted once more.

You apparently aren't the only one.

You catch Sylvie smothering a yawn out of the corner of your eye.

"You should rest."

She frowns deeply.

"I can't sleep in a place like this."

It's your turn to frown.

Loki squints. "What? A train?"

"No," she bites back, leaning forward to toss an insult at Loki, "I can't sleep around untrustworthy people."

"Do you not trust me?" you ask suddenly.

Sylvie blinks. "No, love — that's not what I meant."

"Not your 'love'," Loki corrects haughtily as he waggles a finger, "But, no, Doctor, I'm assuming she means me."

"Oh, please, you feel free to take a nap, then, Variant—"

"Nice try."

Sylvie shuts her eyes and exhales tightly. "I'm not going to waste my time rooting around for the TemPad when someone taught you fairly decent magic."

"My mother," he calls back as a final word — and it's enough to stifle Sylvie's fire for a moment. Her scoff is one of resignation as Loki leans back, and you watch her eyes soften.

She's staring into space.

Then, they're on you.

"Do you dream of her?"

You lift your eyes from the table.

The question startles a different sort of silence out of you — one that's weighted with contemplation. How did she know?

When you nod, Sylvie almost laughs.

Loki's face is soft.

"What is she like?" she asks suddenly, and Loki's gaze drifts from your face to hers.

"She was, uhm..."

He wets his lips, he inhales, and for the first time you can remember, you see him for who he really is — you see a man, not a God. You see echoes of his childhood, of his life, of his mother. There's love in his eyes when he speaks and it's disarming. You feel like he's holding your heart in his hand, squeezing with every syllabic admission of reverence towards the woman.

A blink. His head drops.

"A Queen of Asgard," he breathes as he nods, "She was good. Purely decent."

His eyes are suddenly swallowed with sadness. Your chest aches. His eyes find you in the sea of feelings — and Sylvie watches the rare moment of connection spark between the two of you.

When Loki speaks, his voice is calm. His eyes don't leave your face.

"She would have liked our dear Doctor, I believe. Quite a lot."

"Purely decent," Sylvie echoes, stifling her bubble of emotions with a snort, "Sure she's your mother?"

"Oh, no, she's not actually," he says pointedly, "I was adopted. Is that a bit of a spoiler for you? Sorry about that."

Sylvie's lips a pressed into a tight line. She shakes her head. "No, I knew I was adopted."

Loki gawks.

Your brows knot.

"What?" he breathes out as he leans forward, "They told you?"

"Did they not tell you?" you ask incredulously, face screwed up in a muddled mess of confusion and shock.

"No," he says as he looks at you, shaking his head, "I mean, they did eventually."

Sylvie winces. You do the same.

"Hang on a second — so tell... I? Uh — tell me about your mother."

The blonde sighs. She shakes her head.

"I barely remember her," she explains, tilting her head, "Just blips of a dream at this point."

You rub your cheek.

The two of them fall into silence.

And, then, you watch Loki offer some sort of olive branch — a shred of his own memory, something to fill in the gaps between the blips for Sylvie. It feels pure, and you can see the pride in his eyes as he speaks about Lady Frigga.

"You know, when I was young, she'd do these little bits of magic for me."

You watch his face light up.

"...Turn a flower into a frog, or cast fireworks over the water."

Sylvie looks on beside you.

Loki continues. "It all seemed impossible. But, she told me one day I'd be able to do it, too, because..."

His eyes flit shut. He exhales. And almost like he's realizing a lost truth, finished his thought.

"Because I could do anything."

You can see something welling in Sylvie's eyes — and maybe Loki does, too. Maybe that's why he offers up his hand in your direction, keen on showing you something to pull from the sap.

"Want to see?"

You both nod.

And, when he opens his palm, it's beautiful.

Little crackles of light explode from his palm in tendrils of color and you find yourself completely and totally enamored with the sight. You — the scientist, the atheist, the methodical and logical. And yet, it's magic. It's magic and it's right there, bubbling alive as fireworks dance through the air between the three of you.

You can hardly help yourself when you reach out and prod a finger towards the projected illusion. Like a drop of water on a calm lake, the lights ebb and flow around your finger only before chasing their way up your hand.

Loki is smirking to himself as the illusion is now held in your palm. Like a child, brimming with wonder, you laugh out loud.

It tickles. Like a cool puff of air. Nearly the opposite to Sylvie's magic. Hers was itchy. Irritating. Hot. This is... beautiful.

Then, Loki reaches out — he scoops up the little trick and closes his palm and gone is the light. Your wonder remains.

Sylvie, to your right, chuckles to herself.

It's... it's endearing. You and him. This little love that's blossoming before her very eyes. And while it's not perfect, she can see echoes of her own love here. It tugs at her heartstrings to the tempo of the harp in the far corner. She settles back into her booth.

"I just... I don't understand."

"Magic, dear," Sylvie says as she smiles, "It's magic."

"Speaking of," Loki says as his knee presses against yours beneath the table, "How do you do that... y'know. The — the thing?"

He mimics her reach. Sylvie snorts.

"It'd be easier if I showed you."

"Why, so you can grab a hold of my mind, get the TemPad and leave us both here to die? I don't think so!"

"Then don't ask!"

The banter is childish and the two dissolve into smiles at the sibling-like interaction.

Suddenly, champagne.

"Ooh!"

Loki takes a glass, and when you and Sylvie wave it off, he happily scoops up the two other glasses with eyes bigger than his stomach. You snort quietly as he takes a gracious sip and wets his lips.

He offers his glass to you. You consider it, then take it gently by the stem.

As Loki speaks, he tries to ignore the way your lips pass along the same place his did moments ago.

What a childish bit of longing.

He swallows. "A pity the old woman chose to die, don't you think?"

"She was in love."

You scoff and hand the glass back to Loki. "She hated him, Sylvie."

"I agree with the Doctor on this one—"

"Well, maybe love is hate."

Her gaze flickers knowingly between the two of you — and you and Loki catch it easily. For a moment, it's like it's only you and him on that train. But, it's a brief moment, and it dissolves into sheepishness after your gaze breaks. The two of you squirm in your seats, ignoring the look with cleared throats; while you wave it off, Loki is more keen on making it quite the joke.

With a flick of his wrist, a quill and piece of parchment appear. He gently elbows you as he waggles his brows. "Should probably remember that, don't you think?"

"Be my guest," you laugh.

"What was that, again? 'Love is'..." he scrawls something, reveling in the sound of your muffled laughter, "Was it 'love is hate'?"

"Oh, piss off."

Another flick of the wrist. The show has dissolved in a wave of green.

He smiles at Sylvie.

"On the subject of love..." he begins, taking another long sip, "It seems we have something in common. Or, well, someone."

You can't help but ignore the roaring flame that suggestion stokes in your gut — all against your better judgement. After all, this is Loki. Reoccuring Variant Anomalies or not, this was a man you couldn't stand. He was cunning and wicked and manipulative and tall and handsome and rather funny when pressed. The cocktail of self-loathing this sudden rush of attraction brings is embarrassing at best.

"That we do."

"What's she like?" you ask, rushing to distract yourself, "The... other version of me?"

Sylvie seems to ponder that for a moment. She leans back, crosses her legs, and thinks.

When she speaks, her voice is tender.

"The smartest woman I've ever met," she says, "She knows me better than I know myself — and it drives me insane."

You can't help but smile. "Does she look like me?"

"Oh, yes, it's a bit scary, actually," she rushes out with a laugh. Then, she quiets down.

You and Loki share a worried look when her gaze drifts off.

"She was the only thing that kept me going."

It hurts. You can see the ache. The hurt. The tender bloom of longing. It pricks her cheeks and turns her mouth red with spite — and Sylvie is quick to allude her sudden vulnerability.

"But, you," Sylvie says, "The both of you...?"

You blink. "I... I'm not sure what you're asking."

Loki squints. "Though everyone is keen on assuming we've already been married, I assure you we're far from it."

"Ah," Sylvie says, almost smiling, "So that little lover's spat was... what? Nothing more?"

"Oh, please, he's insufferable, I stand by that," you explain.

Loki nods with a comically, forced face of acceptance. "She isn't exactly wrong."

"Right," she breathes, "But you can see it, can't you? You and I know. Up until now, we've never had something..."

"Real."

The two of them say it at once.

You lean back slowly. Loki swallows another mouthful of champagne, wets his lips and nods. He accepts that for what it is — and who is he to lie. Not about this. About you.

"Love is mischief, then."

There's a smirk there.

However, Loki's gaze has drifted off — and as he holds his glass a bit tighter, you see a flicker of something contemplative venture into his eyes.

"No..." he begins, eyes flicking to land on your face. They dance there, shifting between your eyes and your mouth and the gentle slope of your nose. He trails off, "Love is..."

You've never been looked at like this in your life — like you're as bright as the sun, as beautiful as the moon, as untouchable as the stars. You feel revered, like someone has hung a halo on your head and kissed your skin with uttered prayer. It nearly seizes up your entire heart.

And maybe it's worsened by the man he is — by the sheer fact that he's Loki. That he's a shadow of a villain you're not to trust, that he's a liar and devil. That he despises all that you are: human above all.

You hadn't realized you were holding your breath.

He seems to snap out of after what feels like forever, and reaches for his glass once more.

You exhale and your fingers tremble against your palm. You begin to worry it beneath the table.

"Uh... Love is something I might have to have another drink to think about."

He tries to play it off with a scoff and a tip of his drink.

He feels heavy.

But, Sylvie knows better. She narrows in on your wide-eyed look and pats your arm. Wordlessly, she comforts your dawning realization that... it's happening. That predestined thing was beginning.

Or had it already started and you've just now begun to piece it together?

You might need a drink. Or a nap.

Both. Both is good.

"You know the three of us are about to hijack the power source to civilization's last hope for survival," she says, "It's not going to be easy."

"Don't remind me," you breathe, "It's messed up."

"We should rest."

"Alright, then," he breathes as he leans back and nods, "You relax your way, and I relax mine."

Sylvie meets your gaze after a moment, then shakes her head. She decidedly makes a point of settling into the booth, and you decide to do the same.

All while the God of Mischief does what he does best.

You stir a half an hour or so later to the sound of singing — and when you raise your head and part the sea of hair hanging in your face, you see that Sylvie is still fast asleep beside you.

Confusion mingles with sleep; as you rub your eyes, you reach for the booth beside you, but Loki isn't there. That sends you bolting upright, and then you realize the singing is him.

Almost as if Sylvie had sensed you panic, she's roused now as well — all in time to see the God of Mischief, apparently drunk, begin his own crooning belt of some song in... Norse? Old Norse? Or, just Norwegian?

"What is he doing?" she whispers harshly.

"I have no idea," you whisper back.

You don't know enough of the language to have even the slightest idea of what's happening. He suddenly shushes the crowd and the rowdy tune slows down into something heavier. Something... filled with heartache.

It's that look again.

The one from before.

And he's singing, all while pinning you square in the booth as he does.

As he leans against the bar, you watch his posture change from confident to nearly bashful.

Your whole chest locks up just like before and your heart is in your throat.

The whole train car seems to hang on this interaction between the two of you, and people follow the tender gaze of the man — and you squirm in your seat.

I storm svarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene Over isbreer tar jeg meg frem I eplehagen står møyen den vene Og synger, når kommer du hjem?

He shifts on his feet, and his eyes are sad.

Then, he bounds back into the tempo from before with boyish enthusiasm.

"When she sings, she sings come home!"

The party begins once more, only ending when the God waves his hands and the harp stops and the room descends into laughter and applause.

Sylvie looks at you with wide-eyes.

"And you two aren't in love?"

You speak quickly as you follow her out of the booth. "I'm beginning to think I missed something."

And maybe you have, and maybe that thing is a dagger.

Where’s my Loki at when I need him??🥺🥺 I need him to provide me comfort at this trying time of the month. 😓🍫🩸🥺

The Asgardian Way

Loki x Reader

Summary: you get your period on the most unfortunate time- on date night with Loki. Embarrassed as you are of the topic from past experiences with boyfriends, Loki shows you that unlike mortal men- Asgardians view this time of the month for women in a much better way.

Word count: 1,849

Warnings: period talk, fluff, shade on Christianity, some shade on human men, Loki being the ideal boyfriend we all deserve.

A/N: this was requested by @the-departed-potato and while I do not take requests I just really had to do this one because this was like just perfect for me specifically to do. Sorry it took so long! Sorry if this sucks!😅 I also truly had to hold myself back from giving even more shade on Christians of old times because damn I could write a whole essay about those people and how they spread misinformation that changed real history to fake mainly bc of witchcraft. This is not beta read so all mistakes are by yours truly!

No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.

Masterlist

--

It's been going on for months now, the shameless flirting, the gentleman behaviour, and the devious looks he sent your way that completely contradicted his actions and left you a blushing mess even when he only opened the door for you- then he would wink at you.

It wasn't until one night that you gathered up courage to ask him out.

You were staying late at the Avengers Tower, you wanted to finish working on the new gadget you had built with Tony at the lab so he sent you to bring the two of you some coffee- he knew it was useless to tell you to go home and sleep- last time he tried to do it you called him a hypocrite and conditioned one of his suits to blast him if he gets close to you. You found it hilarious. He made sure to update the security of his code.

You went to the kitchen when you happened to overhear a conversation of two gods.

"Why have you not taken her on a date yet, brother?"

"I wish to court her properly, she deserves to be treated like a lady." You heard Loki respond to his brother. You leaned on the wall, trying not to get hopeful and to get the butterflies to calm down.

"Y/N is a fine lady, however, I heard from Stark that midgardian women might mistake courting like ours as mere jest." You smiled a bit at the scoff they both let out.

"Mortals continue to baffle me." Came Loki's comment, before Thor continued- not letting the subject go.

"Ask her on a date, I'm sure she will appreciate it." He encouraged his brother who wasn't as sure.

"I think, brother, that she is different- she will appreciate the old delicate arts of courting." He was not wrong- you were always old fashioned. But now at his admission, you stepped out of the shadows and into their view.

"While I do appreciate the courting, I'd love it if you would ask me out." Loki turned around at the sound of your voice.

"How long have you been standing there, darling?" he fidgeted with his hair.

"Long enough," you stepped down the stairs to stand in front of him. "What do you say about this Friday night at six? There is an art exhibit at the museum, I think you'll like calling out all the inaccuracies."

"Yeah, I'd like that." He gave you a small shy smile, and you completely forgot about Thor who stood on the side, watching it all unfold.

"This is great," he said. "You two are finally going on that date, see brother I told you-"

Thor stopped when he looked at Loki who sent him daggers at ruining the moment. You only chuckled.

"I have to go get Tony and I some drinks, so I guess I will see you then." You were about to turn around to head towards the kitchen when Loki took your hand in his, making you turn around, then he kissed the back of your hand lightly, bowing with a small smile at the blush on your cheeks.

"I look forward to it."

It took you a couple of second to function after he did that, mumbling a quiet goodbye you turned around and refused to look back at the smirking god.

•

You have gone with the god for a couple of dates now and then, sometimes you didn't see him for a whole week because of meetings in Asgard and while you were sad that you didn't get to see him-you were glad he was gone on that exact week every time.

You have been seeing him for about 2-3 months now and it was great- up until your period decided to come early. Right on your scheduled date.

You were nervously pacing your apartment thinking how to tell Loki that you can't go out with him tonight. You didn't want him to see you like this- he is a god, and you- you are a mortal woman who was having trouble getting out of bed because your body decided to punish you for not being pregnant this month.

Your body was so sexist.

Suddenly, a knock on the door.

Groaning, you got out of bed and headed for the door, checking who was there you were puzzled when you saw Loki there, dressed to the nines. Surely you didn't waste so much time, he must be early.

"Dear, are you okay there?" he called you.

"Yes, I'm fine- just a moment!" you tried to make yourself look presentable in a rush just so you could open the door to the dashing prince who was awaiting you.

You opened the door with a smile, which he returned.

You were used to acting like you were okay while your cramps were killing you from the inside but it seems like the god of lies could not be so easily fooled.

"Hi Loki, I was not expecting you this early." You laughed courtly, "And I was actually meaning to call- I'm not feeling so well today, I'm afraid I have to postpone our date tonight."

Loki walked into your apartment, kissing you on the cheek before pulling back to study you.

"I wanted to see you sooner, so here I am. But now that I am here- well tell me what is wrong, dearest?" he frowned when he saw you slightly clench your fists.

"Oh, I'm just not feeling well, I won't be good company and I won't be able to enjoy a lovely night with you I'm afraid."

"I'm a healer my love; you always seem to forget my magic," he smirked slightly causing you to laugh- which was not good right now for you.

"I remember your magic powers very well when you prank me." You countered. "But no, this is not something you need to worry about."

He reached out and took your hand with a small laugh. The door locked itself with a wave of his hand as he took you to the couch.

"I'm afraid you will have to do better than that to fool the god of lies." He took both of your hands in his and you were sure he could see your embarrassment with the way he was gazing into your eyes, "Now tell me, what is wrong?"

"You really don't need to- it's kind of embarrassing-" you started to mumble, lowering your head.

"I'm still here, aren't I? What kind of man will I be if I am not taking care of those I care about?"

You pulled your hands away from him, embarrassed as you mumbled something he couldn't quite put together.

"What was that?"

"I'm on my period." You closed your eyes- not wanting to see his disgusted look. "See, so you don't need to be here, I can take care of it myself and we can reschedule our date to a week from now."

It was not a problem to you- you knew the drill- but having to explain it to a clueless god felt humiliating to say the least.

"Is that all? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You opened your eyes to a puzzled god.

"Because it would make you uncomfortable," you replied, suspicious of his reaction.

"Why on Odin's beard would it make me uncomfortable?" He frowned at you and looked you over. He started peppering kisses on your hands.

"Because it is my period?" You knew he is a god, but maybe asgardians women didn't get that. "Here on earth, men tend to be disgusted by it, they don't like to get involved in it or talk about it."

He huffed out in surprised anger- that you did not expect. The god in front of you did not know how human males could be so awful.

"Well that is preposterous! Women are to be worshipped at those times!" you stared at him-he had always treated you differently, unlike anything you have seen on earth before. You knew Asgardian ways of manners were much old fashioned and yet so different all the same.

"Then tell me, how do asgardians see it?" you leaned on the back of the couch, facing Loki and pulling a blanket over you. You liked how safe he made you feel, but this still felt weird to you- you were not sure how to react- to what extent it goes. So, curiosity got the better of you, "because if I'm being honest, this is kind of embarrassing."

Loki sent you a smile with a twinkle in his eye.

"Darling there is nothing to be embarrassed of! You are naturally as powerful as a thunder storm, a tornado- lightning cowards before you and your power!" he was going to make sure you understand it, he had never been so baffled by humans before. "You hold the ability of life- eternal life- in every drop of blood that falls from you- from the most powerful being in all the realms. For a couple of days each month- you are being shown your true power even through your suffering- and in that time you, my dear, are more powerful than a god. You should be nothing but worshipped. That is what the gods of Asgard know it to be true."

"Do they really all think that?" you felt a sharp pain suddenly and Loki came closer to you, put his usually cold hand on your stomach and you felt comforting warmness ease your ache.

"They know it. The people of midgard knew it too at some point, but then some people who thought themselves gods- I think they called themselves Christians- decided that the bleeding was a show of witchcraft and called it a sin and spread many lies about it, which now I see are still believed to this day. You see, they were quite stupid." You laughed at the disgusted look he gave you, which in turn made him smile. "You know, I probably shouldn't tell you this but…"

"You never obey such rules." You laughed and put your hand over his one that was comforting you on your stomach.

"In one of Thor's travels he bathed in a river filled with the menstrual blood of the powerful Giantesses. That was to give him enlightenment and eternal life."

"Ew, did he actually do it?" you scrunched your nose and Loki kissed it.

"That is not disgusting- that was powerful and very well respected. When he came back, he was the smartest I have ever seen him."

"I hope he took a good bath after it…" you chuckled and smiled at him, "Thank you for this, the Asgardian way of thinking is way better than that of earth."

"Now, dear, while I do have a preferred way to help take away the pain-" you blushed under his gaze. "Tell me, what is it that you desire? Tell me, so I can worship you as I should."

You kissed him then and you knew right then when he kissed you back that the Asgardian men are way better.

•

Taglist: : @callmeluna @sstanbarnes @buckys-other-punk @drabblewithfrannybarnes @easygoingtheatre @that-one-person @justab-eautifulmess @onceupona-happilyeverafter @wipplogg @supraveng @samwilsons-pillowpecs @ayybtch @kitkatd7 @chrissquares @make-me-imagine @jessalyn-jpeg

Loki x reader

This takes place after the End Game, in Asgard, but Asgard was not destroyed, Frigga and Odin are not dead and Hela is pretty much alive too, not locked up and she’s on Loki’s side because she knows what he’d been through because of Thanos. Also Loki is alive, of course.

Words: 2000+

Warnings: none

I will most probably write a second part. Maybe even a mini series. I don’t know.

Enjoy!

The table was quiet as a gloomy mood was hovering over the room like a plague. Loki was sitting next to his mother and Sif while his brother sat next to Odin, whom was at the end of the table, like the king he was trying to impose himself as. Loki was anxious. More than usual. He could not tell why, but he had a feeling something bad was bound to happen this night. It’s been quite a long time since he had dined along with his mother and Odin. Let alone with with new found sister he and Thor never knew about. Even if he was not Frigga’s biological son, he still felt like she was a motherfigure he would follow until the end of times therefore he considered her his mother. He hated Odin with every fiber of his being and yet he cared deeply for Frigga. Thor as well. In spite of everything that happened, he was still his brother, at least Loki thought of Thor as a brother.

Loki was felling like he could die and he hoped something would come up and end this hell he was forced to live. He would have loved to stay at the Stark Tower with you in the cell build especially for him and read or talk about life and beliefs in general. He day dreams about this scenario quite often in the library or while training and he enjoys it even if he would kill himself before telling anyone this. While he was lost in his own mind, trying to come up with a little trick to escape for that godforsaken dinner that seemed to last forever, the doors to the throne room opened and through them came a being that was worthy enough to be called a princess or a queen.

Everyone stopped eating and talking and everyone’s eyes were on you, watching over you like hawks would a fresh corpse. The click of your black high heels on the golden floor were echoing through the whole room, the slim heel making you look like a queen coming to get what it’s hers. Your hair was on point as well as your makeup and dress. Looking at you was like looking at a four course meal plus dessert. The black dress you were wearing was floor length, cutout so your left leg was visible when you walked and even with both arms half covered by the material and the cleavage did not show anything except for a golden necklace, you never looked more beautiful nor sexier. You were worth the title of a temptress and a scholar when people got to know you but at first sight, it was like you had the word princess on your forhead.

‘Who let this mortal to interrupt our dinner? Guards!’

‘I apologize for being late, dear husband. I understand that you never wanted to involve me in family business but seriously now, not even a dinner? We are not to kill each other. We are civilized.’ You smiled at him while he rose from his spot and came to meet you halfway looking confused as a lost puppy and interested all the same. He then put his hands on your shoulders to bring you closer to him and pretended to kiss your cheek as he whispered a question in your ear and inhaling your natural scent mixed with perfume.

‘What in Valhalla are you doing here and what could you have possibly done to get Heimdall to get you here?’ You leaned into his body and whispered your answer close enough to his ear so that everyone could see it clearly after you secured a strand of his hair behind it.

‘Thought you might feel bored and anxious about the dinner so I thought I could help. Friends have each others back right?’ You took out of your dress a smarald green wedding ringwith golden and black and slipped it into his hand without anyone noticing and continued. ‘Put this on and let me pretend I am your wife. If I am to be thought of as only a girlfriend they will see no threat in you nor in me and they will continue to mock you but if they think I am your wife maybe they will leave you alone and give you the respect you deserve. So what will you do? Don’t you want to play this game, my dear king?’ Your voice saying those 3 words sounded like sweet poison, poison which he accepted without second thoughts.

‘You are walking on sharp knives, lady Y/n but for your sake, I hope you do have a well thought plan.’ Loki put on the ring as subtle as he could and eyed you intrigued, giving you his signature smile.

‘Of course I have. You wouldn’t trust me if I didn’t have a good plan.’

‘Alright. I will play your game, little discord. Let us see what you are capable of and what you are made of.’

‘One quick question before we go. What should I do? Make your mom love me and your dad hate me or both hate me?’

‘Only the father if you so truly desire to make one of them hate you.’

‘Anything for my dear king’ You looked into his eyes and gave him a smirk he returned and pecked his lips sweetly to make your charade look more convincing and asked where you should have a seat. Loki offered his hand, the one with the wedding ring, a hand which you took gladly and he led you to your chair, which he just summoned next to his, right between his mothers and his own and kissed your hand, taking his seat beside you. If he was being honest with himself, he was quite amused as he was looking forward seeing how this evening would turn out.

‘There is no need for guards, Allfather. I can present myself. I am Y/n L/n, your daughter in law, wife of Loki. A pleasure to meet my husband’s family at last. I have heard a lot about you all but I believe you never heard of me. Loki, would you mind?’

‘Of course. Forgive my manners, my love. I am still amazed by your beauty and your presence here by my side today. My dear wife, this is mother’ you bowed your head to the AllMother giving her the respect she deserved. ‘The Allfather, my brother Thor, whom you met already and know him and and my brother’s friends.’ You smiled to them. His mother was the only one that spoke.

‘It is quite wonderful to meet you and a shock as well in all honesty. Never had I wondered my son would fall in love with a midgardian. As you are already here, you might as well stay and rest here tonight.’

‘Thank you, Allmother. It would be an honor to spend the night under the same room as you.’ Despite the confidence you were showing, your hands were shacking.

The people at the table were either shocked or at a loss of words not only seeing Loki married with a woman, a midgardian nonetheless but also seeing his partner rose a feeling of envy inside them, an envy that they did not even know it existed or could be possible. Loki’s match was quite a first class woman, even if she was a mere mortal. Classy, elegant, looking like she could slit throats, confident, always with her words ready, a deadly woman, for short. And observing her dress that looked like a second skin, she was beautiful indeed. Not as beautiful as the goddesses but she was on the right path.

‘I must apologize for my interruption and indiscretion by coming here unannounced but I really wanted to meet you all.’

‘Don’t you think, mortal, that this act was ill mannered?’ Odin interfered and glared at his son’s so called wife.

‘I think it would’ve been ill mannered to not come at all, if I really think this through. No one should leave their partner alone, especially on a family dinner.’

‘Why are you really here, mortal?’ The room was slowly filling with tension from unspoken harsh words between you and Odin, knowing what he made of Loki and what he pushed him to do in order to survive. What he had to go through with Thanos.

‘I simply came here as Loki’s wife, wishing to dine at least once in my lifetime with his family. Are you implying something, Allfather?’ You gave Odin your most innocent look, a look that Thor and Loki knew all too well. That look only meant one thing and one thing only: standing up for yourself and defending what you care for. The first time Thor saw that look, you smashed his head on the table when he was drunk and he said you couldn’t hurt a fly even if you wanted to. And Loki, well, with him was a whole different story. You knew right from the start something was off when you saw the footage with him because he looked nothing like Thor described him. His eyes, bruises, cuts and facial expressions told you a sad story when you first saw him in the medical bay.

When Loki was face to face with that innocent look, you swept him off his feet and dragged him to a room threatening him while at the same time you asked him what the hell is wrong with him. That fury and wonder in your eyes made him believe that midgardians may be more understanding than he thought. You gave him a head start to explain what is he doing and why he is doing it. You hated war. You saw what id does to innocent people. You saw its horrors through its survivors. You begged him to stop but he said it couldn’t be stopped and yet a glimmer in his eyes showed hope.

The brothers looked at each other and silently prayed that the dinner will not end up with a murder. Hela was enjoying this far too much and Frigga, she was more concerned about the upcoming exchange of remarks between her husband and her now daughter in law.

‘You dare accuse me of something, mortal?’

‘I do not. I only asked if you imply something and by the seeing of your reaction, you do imply that I have an ulterior motive for coming here. If you do think that, what mould that reason be?’

‘This is how to tame your wife, Loki? Letting her disrespect your king?’ Even Thor knew that his father made a mistake with those words. He eyed his brother and he could not see any emotion in his eyes yet his hands and posture did. He was ready to intervene in case something went too far, the same with his mother, that held your wrist under the table, ready to get you out of there. After all you were in a room full of gods that could take 10 times the amount of damage you could or even more and Odin was clearly ready to slit some throats if you continued defying his authority in front of his sons, wife and warriors. If there was one thing Odin would not allow, it would be defying him. You were either a fool or courageous to say those things to him. She heard her son answering his father not long after the question was asked.

‘If you think my wife is my slave or my child or some kind of animal, you are mistaken, dear father. She is speaking her mind and I have no desire to stop her. She may continue if she so desires.’ Loki reached for his chalice and took a mouthful of the finest Asgardian mead with a smirk on his face. If his so called wife manages to anger his father to the point where he shuts his mouth or flees the room on the brink of a heart attack, he will take you as his wife for real. A woman this smart, brave, strategic and beautiful was hard to find in all the nine realms, hard but not impossible. Even he had to admit that admit that. He appreciated enormously when you had his back. For those few moments, he actually thinks if he could fall in love.

‘A mortal woman is no more greater than an animal. They are unworthy of everything the other worlds have. They shouldn’t even bee granted the change of seeing the mighty Asgard.’ You chuckled and smiled at the god.

‘You may not be aware, you royal highness’ you spit those words with disgust and continued’ but this animal has claws and fangs. And she is not afraid of using them.’

‘You should learn your place and when to keep your mouth shut, girl.’ Odin narrowed his eyes and glared at you, making it clear he will not agree with this marriage no matter how and where it has been done. Clicking your tongue and crossing your arms, you answered fire with fire.

‘And you should learn to respect if you wish to be respected by your people because with that kind of attitude and arrogance, if I was part of your court I’d poison myself to death and laugh afterwards.’ At that moment the people present, namely Sif, Hogun, Fandral, Volstag, Thor, Loki, Hela and Frigga, were able to see the hatred between the two of you.

‘I will absolve you of your insolence because you are a fool and know nothing of Asgardian rules. Here, everyone bows to the will of the king. No one is above him.’

‘I will not kneel, now or ever, before a king that has a crown built on the backs of his people and lies. Your crown has jewels stolen from realms you conquered but I would be to ask your people who they’d follow, I’ll bet they will say Queen Frigga and not Odin. If you wish to receive respect, you have to earn it. As well as love. You cannot force someone to love something. It is impossible.’ Hela bursted out laughing at the sight of her father with his words stuck in his throat. She raised from the table and came standing between you and Loki and smiled like a devil to the rest.

‘Loki, if you do not bed her soon, I will. And that is a promise. Because I’ve never seen a woman like this one here. And father, you can admit, for once in your life that a mortal has more mind than you in some areas. Plus. She is not wrong. You have always disrespected humans yet you demand they obey you. Even I know that is not how it works.’

‘Hela, take your seat and do not mend in this problem.’

‘Father, Odin, Allfather, as much as I dislike gossip and a good fight, I will stand my ground just as she does. I am the goddess of death after all. What do you think, Loki dear?’

‘I am inclined to agree with both my sister and wife here.’

‘Allfather, you seem to dislike humans a lot because we die so fast and we are not worthy of your standards. Yet I don’t think you know anything about us and what we did and achieved in history. Not that I expect you to. You look down even on your own kids.’

‘I forbid you to let another word out of your mouth, girl.’ You let a little giggle out and took a sip of your drink.

‘You forbid me? You don’t have that power over me. Over your people, sure. Over me? Never. And even if you had it, I’d still defy you.’

After that, the evening went as fast as it could. Anger and hatred were on the table. Odin threatened you, you defied him. You had Loki’s back and stood on his side.

‘How can you protect him? He killed your kind.’

‘I killed my own kind as well. More than he did in those 2 days. Believe me.’

‘You cannot comprehend what will happen if you continue to defy me, mortal.’

‘Banish me? Torture me? Send me to another planet? Send me to hell? Bring it on, your highness. I’ve seen the horrors of war. Nothing scares me anymore.’

You were shacking from head to toe on your chair, a few times even if you didn’t look scared and Frigga or Loki whispered one or two calming spells in your ear. It was madness to come here, you thought. The dinner ended with Odin leaving full of anger and stating that he will not acknowledge you as his daughter in law for 2 simple reasons. 1. He was not Loki’s father and 2. You were a human, therefore unworthy. To which you responded with a full smile that you did not care about his opinion about you but about Frigga’s opinion about you because she was the true ruler of Asgard for behind a great man stands an even greater woman. Some servants lead you to your room while whispering about the guts you had.

Once you got in, you leaned on the door and sliding until you hit the floor. You could not believe you did this and you were scared and proud at the same time. Your mind was spinning and you thought you might pass out so you raised to your feet and walked on the balcony. You needed fresh air. Your hands got a hold of the railings and you took a deep breath. This was way scarier than you anticipated but now it was done. Letting a small laugh out, you thought of the dinner. You never stood your ground as you did tonight. And especially not for someone like Loki.

You did not hate him nor love him. It was something like a mutual understanding. Sure. You were friends but that never meant to have each other’s back so blindly. You were sure to be killed in the next few day if you kept it up like this.

"How can I be losing the memory of you," Loki's voice cracked with emotion, "but still feel the love so intensely?"

This heartbreakingly reminds me of

"And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you"

٠ ─ fading memory ❟

pairing : loki laufeyson x reader

word count : 500 something

summary : loki can't seem to remember. and he can't seem to forget.

warnings : angsty. reader death (not mentioned, vague notions towards it.) -i think that's it, let me know if i missed anything-

a/n : gif not mine. found on google. first small fic ive ever published. constructive criticism is helpful. reblogs and likes are vastly appreciated.

The bitter winds of Asgard howled through the empty halls of the palace, carrying with them the whispers of forgotten memories. Loki stood alone in his chambers, the weight of loneliness heavy upon his shoulders. He traced the intricate carvings of Yggdrasil etched into the stone walls, his mind drifting to memories of a time long past.

"It's hard to remember your face," Loki whispered into the empty room, his voice barely a breath against the silence. "The curvature of your bones, every line…it's like a haze, a haze of something I loved so dearly."

He closed his eyes, trying to summon the image of your face, but it slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. Once vivid memories now blurred and faded, leaving only a faint impression of your presence.

"How can I be losing the memory of you," Loki's voice cracked with emotion, "but still feel the love so intensely?"

He sank to his knees, his heart heavy with the weight of grief and longing. The only person he ever wanted was fading into dust before his very eyes, slipping away into the abyss of forgotten dreams.

The fear emerged from the shadows, clawing at his heart with icy fingers. The fear of not only losing sight of you but never feeling that love again. The thought of never again hearing your laughter, feeling your touch, or seeing the light in your eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

Loki clenched his fists, his chest tightening with despair. He had faced battles, conquered kingdoms, and defied fate itself, but nothing could prepare him for the agony of losing you. You, who had once been his anchor in a world of chaos, his solace in the midst of turmoil.

"I would give anything to hold you one last time," Loki whispered, his voice barely audible over the echoing emptiness of the room.

But you were gone, lost to him in a sea of fading memories and shattered dreams. He had searched every corner of the realms, but you remained elusive, a ghost haunting the halls of his mind.

Loki rose to his feet, his gaze falling upon the reflection of his own weary face in the mirror. The once proud prince of Asgard now stood broken and hollow, his heart aching for a love he could no longer grasp.

He reached out, tracing the lines of his reflection with trembling fingers, as if trying to hold onto the fleeting fragments of his own identity. But even his own reflection seemed to waver and fade, mirroring the dissolution of his once vibrant spirit.

The echoes of your laughter filled the room, a cruel reminder of what he had lost. Loki closed his eyes, willing the memories to fade, to release him from the grip of their torment.

But try as he might, he could not escape the haunting specter of your absence. You were everywhere and nowhere, a presence that lingered in the shadows, taunting him with the promise of what could have been.

Loki's chest tightened with a suffocating despair as he realized that he was losing not only you but also himself. Without you, he was adrift in a sea of darkness, consumed by the emptiness that gnawed at his soul.

             —   FROM THE VOID, WITH LOVE    !

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a masterpost for the drabble series by yours truly. a revisitation of a well-loved story; watch two forever-lovers fall in love again. canon divergent, set during loki (2020). 

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1.    the beginning of the beginning  2.    apartment CMY9 3.    dress code 4.    pester pester 5.    absolutely miserable 6.    blunder #1 7.    expectations 8.    control variable 9.    a time disguise 10.  fingers entwined 11.   half a sandwich 12.  beauty sleep 13.  the perfect storm 14.  a million meteorites 15.  keep on 16.  home is the heart 17.  petal-mouthed 18.  rib of adam 19.  desperation

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1.   the sacred timeline 2.   the variant timeline files 3.   the tag 4.   the god & the scientist 5.   fan art

I can already tell prince Loki is gonna destroy me and I’m ready but also. So not ready.

FROM THE VOID, WITH LOVE  |  fingers entwined

summary: stuck between loki and a crowned prince

pairing: loki / f!reader

a/n: don't mind me i am just shaving my head over these two, i'll be fine, it's fine!!!!!! this gif is by @thehumming6ird from this wonderful set.

[   MASTERPOST   ]

Asgard.

Every word you can think of to describe this place seems ill-fitting.

It's massive — and everything about this Realm seems to be gilded with conquered gold; while the murals and statues perched in sprawling gardens tell a different, more quaint tale, you know enough about Odin's rule to see through the veneer.

And yet, the Royal Palace of Valaskjalf is incredibly easy to romanticize. You find your breath stolen from you entirely the moment you step through that shimmering, warbling portal behind Mobius and Loki.

It's suddenly so easy to see this is the land of Gods.

You wonder if they will see right through you — a mortal among the immortal.

Loki had been specific about this date. There was a celebration for his mother — a yearly feast with music, dancing, and revelry.

You feel like you've stepped into the haze of a midsummer night — the windows are open, and the curtains are kissing the floor in ribbons of cool chiffon. Guests have gathered around intricate pillars of flowers, of performers, of drinks. This dream is an extravagant one. Everything seems etched with intricate Norse patterns — from the floor tiles to the trim of ladies' capes.

The wine stained mouths of guests glimmer with compliments and conversation as you're ushered behind a pillar by the main hall by Loki.

You spare him a look.

He seems... sad.

You know longing when you see it — and homesickness as well. The God, hidden beneath layers of Royal Guard armor, averts his eyes from the sight just down the stairs.

Mobius, behind you, has careful eyes on his TemPad.

"The branch is deteriorating rate at a solid .3 units per minute," he says quietly, "Just like we predicted."

All according to plan.

Escorted by both Loki and Mobius, you carefully make your way down the stairs of the main hall.

Loki, immediately, sees himself.

There he is, at the bottom of the stairs. Posed by the drinks, as usual. Around him are the Warriors Three, Lady Sif, and his dear brother.

...They were never his friends.

They were always Thor's friends. Even then, when he's being privy to a conversation that did not include him. It seemed to swirl around him, and there he was. Standing there in the thick of it, quietly enjoying his wine. Alone, yet never truly. Always the outsider, never in on the jokes and secrets and camaraderie.

It used to bother him. Before he grew comfortable being alone.

Loki falters on the stairs when suddenly a pair of sharp, green eyes flash to the three of you.

"Keep it together," Mobius grits out.

You clear your throat sharply at the would-be-guard's sudden trip up; nerves flaring as you scan the gala's floor. Your dress is gathered neatly in your hands as you descend the golden stairs — and you follow your armored counterpart's lead.

It's then that Thor has turned to speak to Loki, but the Prince isn't listening.

Instead, the younger silvertongue is staring intently at the woman on the stairs.

You.

Loki, beside you, sees this.

In the far corner, the musicians' song dips into a low and slow waltz.

Thor's attention suddenly snaps to Loki's point of interest — and like fire meeting flint, the realization causes a spark amongst the group of friends. They follow the God of Mischief's gaze towards you, all heads turning owlishly at the sudden appearance of this lone woman.

When you look up from the stairs, you almost proceed to tumble down the next six of them.

There he is.

Your eyes meet, if only for a second, and it seems it's all the permission the Prince needs to push past his brother and Volstagg. His horned helmet shines in the light of the ballroom and you can't help but notice a smile on the God's face. He looks younger than the Loki you know — creases in the corner's of his eyes are absent, and his expression seems... happier.

Suddenly, you're stopped on the stairs.

The Prince meets you halfway.

His attention is wholly devoted to you — nearly reverent. Mobius and Loki falter behind you.

The crowned Prince of Asgard then, with one foot on the step below you, offers you his hand. There's a twinkle of something akin to mischief in his eyes.

But, entirely kind.

You try your best not too look so sheepishly overwhelmed. Letting half of your train fall, you gratefully accept the hand — and he leads you gently down the stairs. Finally, at the bottom, you let your gown settle. Loki lets his hold linger a while longer; and once at your level, dips into a low bow.

"My lady."

Loki can feel his lip curl when he watches his younger version of himself place his lips gently across your knuckles.

Mobius is... surprised. He'll be honest. That was quick.

Something stirs in your gut at the chaste kiss — and you clear your throat as he stands tall. Helmet and all, it feels as if the dark-haired God is towering over you. Has Loki always been this tall?

He nears, drawn in by his still tender hold on your hand. The Prince's face is split into an expression you cannot pin down. It's tied between awe, affection, and complete focus. An amalgamation of things that suddenly make you feel like the most treasured thing in Odin's vault.

"Hello."

Your face breaks into a hesitant smile. "Hello."

He's still holding your hand.

Loki is half tempted to shove past his younger self as he passes you and follows Mobius to a quiet corner.

"Thank you," you say quietly, gesturing back to the stairs, "For that."

"I thought," he says with a breathy little laugh, finally letting your fingers fall from his own, "I—"

Then, Thor.

His booming laughter precedes his arrival into the conversation — but you can't help but smile when the blonde God throws his arms around his brother and shakes his shoulders roughly.

"And who is this, brother?"

You smile at the two.

Suddenly, sadness eats at your heart.

The way this Loki smiles at Thor is... brotherly. It's love. It's friendship despite annoyance and pranks and jests and...

Across the room, Loki shifts in his armor.

Mobius is blinking between both Loki's.

"So."

"I am not talking about it," snaps the God, "Let it lie."

Mobius whistles lowly to himself. "But it's her, then. The two of you. Always destined for... this."

The grey-haired Agent gestures to the sight before the older Loki.

He watches as this younger version of himself seems completely taken with you — the Prince watches, despite Thor's yammering, your every move. He is captivated with you. Completely and totally. And it makes his heartache.

How many days did he spend alone? Wishing for someone like you to come along? How many suitors did he turn away? How many hearts did he leave broken, unable to settle? His mother had always called him restless. Now, this young Prince of Asgard is seeing the person he was destined to love. He can see it in his own eyes.

He's been in love before.

He swore to himself there was no point in it.

Never again.

But he's young — and naive, and full of hope. He doesn't yet know about Laufey, about the future.

He despises how happy he is.

When you look back over your shoulder and your eyes strike hot against the forge of your Loki's heart, you feel nothing but guilt.

"May I have this dance?"

In all honesty, you were not expecting this.

Not to be gently lead to the center of the room, not to join a handful of others in a slow waltz, not to suddenly be the center of the gossips and gawkers. You can hear whispers of Loki's name follow you through the room — and you pointedly decide to ignore them.

Instead, you try to understand how well you fit in his arms.

His hand clasps yours, and you fight a nervous laugh.

"I apologize for my brother."

You smirk. "Is he always so... loud?"

"Au contraire," this Loki croons, "Would you believe me if I told you he was on his best behavior?"

You can't help but snort softly. "And what about you? Whisking a stranger to the center of the room seems hardly well-behaved."

"You're the most breathtaking person in this room," comes the easy reply as he straightens his posture and turns the both of you, "If I wasn't going to steal you away, my brother would have. Or worse, Fandral."

The compliment ignites a trail of fire beneath the God's fingertips. His hand rests neatly against your waist as you try to relax in his arms.

"Do you mean that?"

"About Fandral?"

You tip your head back as you laugh. The Prince is smiling.

"No," you say as the music picks up its pace, "About me."

"I know I may have the reputation of being a liar," Loki says with a content look as he leads, "But I have no intention of lying about that."

He spins you, skirts swaying, and you let your fingers leave his for a moment. You come back into his arms like a comet in orbit. You can't help but narrow your eyes playfully.

"If we've forgone lying for a moment, tell me, are the horns compensating for something?"

His laugh is all you hear as your spun once more. Crystalline and pure. Excited. Happy.

Guilt, once more, nibbles at the homes of your heart.

"Hardly," he laughs.

"And the people staring?" you ask, eyes moving around the room, "Is it jealousy?"

"Try confusion."

"About the horns?" you banter back, "Understandable."

The Prince, now, is doing nothing to hide his horribly smitten expression from the onlookers. His fingers twitch a bit, grip tightening on your hand as he continues to lead the waltz.

"I'm a bit of a black sheep, as the expression goes," he whispers with a smile, "It's not often I dance."

"You had me fooled."

"I'd hope so."

"Perhaps we just make good partners."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious as to how far our synchronicities lay."

The coquettish meaning isn't lost on you — nor is the flash of something velvet and lustful in his eyes. You can see the interest of the God becoming more and more with every note of the strings in the far corner. The attention feels suffocating; and you feel gobsmacked at the realization that your Loki was once this Loki.

Charming, suave, and terribly coy.

In the far corner, Loki has turned his attention towards the long table beside both him and Mobius. The sight of this has made his entire body itch. It feels like some cruel joke. To see you laugh — and yet that's not him. A once-has-been version of himself, maybe.

That Loki has been dead for years.

And while Mobius seems keen on giving him a verbal play-by-play of what is occurring out on the ballroom floor, the God of Mischief is more keen on pillaging the buffet table. As a reasonable man confronted with crushing jealousy does.

He pops a grape into his mouth as Mobius sighs loudly.

"I think Doc's theory is right."

"Ah," Loki says with a raised finger as he picks over the fruit selection, "That's where you're wrong, Mobius. I am not like this Loki."

He turns to gesture to you and himself with an armored gauntlet. Mobius stares.

"Yeah, no—"

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"C'mon, Loki," Mobius urges, bending at the knees, "I've seen the looks you give her — you're impressed by her. Interested. You hang off her every word..."

"I do not."

"Stop lying to yourself for a second, will you?"

"She's a vermin," comes the low snap as he discards the grapes in his hand back onto the sterling plate, "A pest to be eradicated."

"Did Daddy Dearest teach you that?" asks Mobius, jutting his jaw towards the Allfather himself who has just entered the ballroom from the opposite side.

Loki stills himself.

Beside his father is his mother.

She looks as beautiful as he remembers.

Mobius sees the God's eyes soften.

He clears his throat. "Focus, Loki."

"I know."

The song ends — just in time for the Allfather and Queen's arrival to be announced. It comes with the cadenced shuffle of Asgardian Royal Guards and a long stretch of silence. Then, everyone in the room lowers themselves into a deep bow.

You follow suit, trying to anticipate everyone's movements.

When you look up, a pair of eyes are on you.

From the top of the stairs on the other end of the room, Lady Frigga sees you — beside her dear son.

You freeze.

It's recognition that dances between the two of you like electricity.

Loki, across the room, sees this.

Mobius blinks rapidly in panic.

Then, with a single rhythmic tap of Odin's staff Gungnir, the room straightens and turns back to its merriment.

You see the opportunity and as the room begins to swirl once more with dancers and party-goers, you slip away into a wave of the crowd and leave the Prince alone on the ballroom floor. You hear him callout behind you, but you weave yourself carefully through the maze of attendees until you feel as though you've lost him — and then you quickly rush towards Mobius and Loki.

"Left your little courtship in the dust did you?" comes the spiteful jab on Loki's tongue. You can see the anger in his eyes; and you do feel another ache of guilt at the sight, "I'm sure he's heartbroken."

"Stop it," you hiss back, "Your mother just saw me."

"We should go—"

"Are you sure you don't want to turn back?" Loki says with a sarcastic little lilt, "Bid your love farewell?"

You want to slap him. However, the hurt that stings your face is quickly replaced by fear when a delicate hand finds your shoulder.

Beside you, both Mobius and Loki turn to hide their faces. It's a bit too late, but the attempt is made.

"Hello."

You stiffen.

When your turn to look over your shoulder, she's standing there.

Lady Frigga.

Her ladies in waiting have followed her; and you clumsily bow as she smiles kindly down at you. When you look up, her hand has found the curve of your cheek.

Her expression is fond.

"This is a surprise."

You open your mouth to speak — but nothing comes out.

"You're prettier in person, you know," she says sweetly, leaning close to cup your face now, "I understand why my son is so fond of you."

Your heart leaps. "I—"

"You ought to be going, my dear one," she says as she pushes a wayward tress behind your ear, "Heimdall will be here any moment. And I fear you may have overstayed your welcome."

You're stuck in her motherly embrace, like a bee in honey. Her tender expression is heavy with love — enough to bring the hot sting of tears to your eyes.

This woman... you realize now that you need to watch the tapes. You need to understand her — why you matter to her.

"Your son would want you to know he loves you."

It comes out in a whisper. Behind you, Loki's eyes widen.

"Oh," Frigga laughs, "I know. And I'm sure he's thankful you've told me. Promise me you'll make sure he eats. And tell him enough with the snake illusions—" She waves her hand for emphasis.

You laugh. Your smile is soft. "I will, I promise."

She bends, sweeping your cheek into a chaste kiss. "Now go. All three of you."

Mobius and Loki turn slowly.

His mother's eyes stick to her son's for a moment — and all time slows down. She reaches, touches his cheek, smiles, and then urges him on.

"Go."

The three of you disappear into the Time Door to the hiss and sizzle of the reset charge, right as Heimdall and the guards push through the doors across the room.

Gone is Asgard.

Me whenever i see you on ur Loki shit: ah some finally,,, fake!wife content to ease my soul

Loki chokes a laugh into his fruity brandy as you pull a faux-smile and terrified giggle, recoiling a bit as an entire animal is dropped onto your plate. 

It smells. 

“Oh, wow, that’s… what… what is that?”

Gods, Loki cannot get over how precious you are. He’d somehow convinced you to join him at dinner by the Grandmaster’s side. It’s always the food that gets you in moments like these – you try make your poking look less like prodding and more like carving. 

Just pretend it’s a Virginia Ham, you tell yourself, just a big ol’ pig.

Oh, god. Was this thing sentient? Did it have feelings? 

You wonder if you can use the “I’m a vegan” line with the Grandmaster.

Loki’s hands sweep into your view. He’s got a hunk of the meat on a fork. He pops it into his mouth – he’s showing solidarity in the question of ‘what the fuck are we eating?’. You consider it a bit like a if it kills me, you’ll know not to eat it sort of moment. 

He swallows, shrugs, and offers a charismatic smile that has you staring like a love-struck idiot. 

“Tender,” he chirps, turning to shoot you a wink, “Food is food.”

Yeah, and you didn’t wanna be the next meal here.

You dig in and try your best to show appreciation to the man in the gilded robes at the head of the table. 

“Loki,” the Grandmaster calls, “Tell me – what’s food like over there on Assgard… or… y’know, uhhhh –”

He waves his fork.

“Wherever your both from.”

You’re elbow to elbow with other socialites, now – Loki is much better at this part than you; he’s a Silvertongue through and through and soon he’s winding the room up with lies and stories of adventure and heroism and home. His voice captures every ear at the table and you watch him with a knowing smile. 

Green eyes dart to your face, the briefest glimpse, and his story falters.

That hardly ever happens. Loki, seemingly, loses his place – he stutters suddenly and shakes his head, clearing his throat with another grin. He’s embarrassed, you can read it in his cheeks, though it seems no one in the room realizes it. 

His hand moves to your knee, cold fingers sweeping along the curve there.

You snatch it up and squeeze.

He openly stares, now.

“I, uh, sorry – she distracts me.”

You laugh softly, dipping your sheepish expression into your wine. The room seems to bubble at the romantic expression glued on the God’s face. They eat it up. Loki knows that. You do, too. 

It’s just precious. 

“Ever the charmer,” you croon with a wink, “Tender, if you will.”

“It's you.

It’s from the Void, with love.”

you write loki so well i am not completely convinced you AREN'T mr. hiddleston himself

FROM THE VOID, WITH LOVE  |  the cartharsis of venus

summary: petal-mouthed promises and mingling breath. whispers in the dark. there’s something romantic about the never ending void, isn’t there?

pairing: loki / f!reader, referenced & implied sylvie / f!reader

a/n: this anon made me laugh. so, have some watch mojo presents top 10 loki/doc moments. this chapter’s gif is from @marvelheroes’s lovely set here.

[   MASTERPOST   ]

It's been years since he's seen your face.

...How many now? Thirty, maybe? But, then again, time moves different on others worlds and he's spent far too much drowning in his own to admit he has lost count the ever-growing gap between your souls.

In truth — in horrible, gut-wrenching truth — he'd forgotten what your voice sounded like. It was something he had never thought possible. Surely, he would remember warm whispers of honey-sweet I love you's for all time? Surely, the sound of your laugh, as melodically whimsical as wedding-day church bells, would never escape his memory?

Your eyes, too. As he looks at you, he realizes those eyes are not the ones he loved. Different, but still you.

You.

His wife.

His beautiful, cunning, witty, wonderful wife. His bug, his love.

It's you.

He feels as if he's been gutted where he stands.

Loki, as he ushers you through the portal, can see this on his older counterpart's face. His own heart aches in a sympathetic sense — especially knowing now the isolation the man had wrought upon himself.

He didn't have the heart to ask about you then. He supposes now, gauging the older man's reaction, he will not have to.

The man watches you as you chirp at the teenagers on your heels, insisting they follow and keep up, but the urgency dies when you raise your head and meet his eyes.

You see the pain. And then, a glimmer of love.

It blooms as he takes a tentative step forward.

The portal behind you all closes with a swallowed gulp of green smoke; it spills out by your feet, and in the grass of the cold expanse of land, you stand.

"You're even more beautiful than I remember."

Your eyes soften.

When the man reaches out, you let him touch your face — and you frown at the heartbroken look he spares you. It only lasts a moment; and then, he's pulling back and away as if he's touched a flame.

...What color were her eyes, again?

Your Loki lingers over your shoulder.

As the older man turns and begins to lead the way, you turn to spare Loki a mournful look. Your eyes hold the weight of a thousand words — some curious, but mostly somber acceptance that this love-story of yours is a tragedy to some.

Loki touches your shoulder gently; his thumb follows the curve of your arm. His voice is quiet. "Come on."

You gesture for the two teenagers to follow — and catch a completely different sort of look between the two.

Loki catches the half-smirk you throw his way, and his eyes dart back to the two with feather-light amusement. He says nothing, only buries a smile deep as he tucks his chin and coughs. You nudge him with your shoulder as you walk. He nudges back.

"That was some show," you finally say, speaking over the bluster of cold wind that nips at your skin, "Seems like Loki's aren't in short supply."

It's the older one at the head of the pack that speaks. "Yes, well — that's what we do."

"Survive?" you ask, tilting your head.

"Lie. And cheat," he snaps as he moves along, "We cut the throat of every person we trust, and for what? Power? Glorious purpose? We simply cannot change."

"And every-time we do try to change, the TVA comes along," remarks the boy in the back angrily, finally letting down the alligator in his arms, "And sends us here to die!"

"We're broken. All of us. Forever."

"It's why we need to get out of here," Loki stresses, "To take down the TVA."

You blink. Concern washes over your features at the age old line — but Loki does not see it. Instead, he's intent on stopping the roving caravan in its tracks. You cross your arms.

"Nothing can change until the TVA is stopped."

"And you think you can do it?" asks the older Loki, turning to look at you both, "You trust this other version of us?"

"She's the only one I do trust," Loki insists, albeit gently, "Sylvie has been wronged by the TVA just like us. They orphaned her, they stole her Doctor. And even if I did not trust her, I trust her rage."

"That's the play, then?" you ask, leaning on your heels as you cock a hip; you're looking to him for guidance — for an honest line of communication, "To destroy the TVA?"

Loki's eyes turn to you as he inhales; his brows tighten in concern.

"I know—"

"You know," you speak over him, waving a hand as he closes his eyes, "You know why I'm hesitant—"

The eyes of the teenagers bounce between you.

"I don't... I don't want any of this. I want," he waves his hands, "I want the people in the TVA to know the truth."

"And what happens when there's a vacancy for King of Time?"

Loki's mouth snaps shut.

Your heart wanes. There’s a weighty moment that sits between the two of you, then. And as Loki swallows the catch in his throat and comes to realize he holds your judgement of his character in the highest esteem, he can only try to rationalize the lengths he’ll go — if not for you, then for himself.

For that scared little boy Mobius had so aptly called to action.

Quietly, you whisper.

"Please don't go where I can't follow."

And you push on. You have to — or else the hope that perhaps he has changed will strangle you in its roots. The seed is planted. You are keen to nurture it, but afraid of the trueness of its yield.

Loki, though, is ensnared in your orbit and suddenly desperate to prove the seduction of power no longer has a hold on his heart. It’s you, now, who plucks his heartstrings to moonlit sonatas — it’s you who has made a home of this once dark, icy place. Once, the walls of his heart were sick with something he believed to be infallible. It was glorious purpose.

He idea of betraying that, of betraying you? And then, losing you?

He sees what that would do to him. He sees it in the older version staring him down. If he lets himself feel it, for more than a moment, it stings. He pulls away from the thought like it burns.

“We,” he stresses as he steps forward to match your stride in a terribly boyish attempt at proving his point; but it works, and he notices the way you look at him as he speaks, “Won’t be going anywhere if we don’t find a way to kill Alioth.”

Your brows snap tight in confusion.

You don’t need to say a word — the young teen behind you, all lanky limbs and cherub-faced, beats you to it.

“Hold on,” she says, “Kill the big, cloud monster?”

“Precisely,” Loki breaths, placing his hands on his hips. He looks almost proud.

You pause beside his older counterpart and spare the man a questioning look. He seems to share your apprehension, and so does the younger version of Loki peeking over the God’s shoulder, shaking his head discreetly.

“Is that even possible?” you ask, squinting and finding your hands on your hips as well, “I mean, it’s a trans-temporal entity. It’s got no physical being.”

Loki blinks. He then look at his older self. “I thought you called it a shark.”

“Metaphorically.”

You blink at the older man.

Then, you turn to share a mistified (and frankly very doubtful) look with your teenage self.

“Right...”

Loki pinches the bridge of his nose. “Listen, we won’t know if we don’t try—”

“Or we die.”

You point at your teenage self, nodding along at her point. “Yea, or we die.”

“Or,” Loki sighs as he rolls his jaw and looks up to the sky, “Yes, fine, or we die — but, honestly at this point I think the benefits outweight the risks.”

You let out a long sigh.

“Approaching Alioth is a death sentence,” says the older man by your side, “We’ll get you three to it, but that’s as far as we’ll go.”

“Oh, I’m not with them—” pipes up the teenager, straggling over to your side as she offers the man a compliant little smile, “I have curfew, actually. So, y’know.”

You frown. “You sure about that?”

She shrugs. “Yea. I mean — if you destory the TVA, then you can come visit. Or maybe I come visit you. We’ll do a sleepover. Sorta like 13 Going on 30, but we’re two people.”

You laugh out loud, and each Loki smiles at it.

"Alright,” you say as you throw your arm over her shoulder, “So where to, gentlemen?”

The alligator at your feet hisses. You jump.

“He says it’s getting late,” translates the younger Loki, “And that we should move, find shelter, and hunker down for the night. And soon. I’d rather spare you ladies from the darker dangers that lurk about when it gets quiet out here.”

And so that’s what you do.

Time is awfully strange in this place — and while maybe the storm clouds overhead hide the sun or the moon from sight, you’re not even entirely sure either are even there. As you trek along, through wreckage and ruin, you find yourself always turning your eyes up to the sky.

The younger Loki seems to have fashioned some sort of anamoly alert system that tracks entry of objects in this realm — and each push and pull of the fabric of time rebounds onto the screen with a general direction of sorts.

Your teenage self seems pretty enarmored with the idea. And the boy behind it.

You find yourself watching the two of them; and the gentle smile that fleets onto your face is not lost on your own half.

As you wade through the tall grass, you pick apart a blade you’ve snagged, and pretend you’re no eavesdropping on their puppy-love laden chatter. You drop your head, hide your smile, and laugh quietly at the younger Loki’s attempts to lightheartedly rib your younger self over something stupid. She battles back with a toothy-smile and a laugh as bright as sunshine.

If he’s honest with himself, Loki finds it rather adorable.

His heart is soft at the sight of these two young souls, and as he ambles up beside you, he remembers the feeling of tumbling headfirst into something like a first crush. It’s lovely, really, and seeing it play out infront of him just reminds him of the woman just within reach.

He’s been in love before. Ever fleeting, always a fast burn.

But this? With you? It’s different.

The God shares a knowing look with you as the two teenagers giggle over something said — and behind you, a capybara and alligator trot along. An odd couple. But, you suppose so are you and Loki. A God and a scientist. It’s... endearing.

Your worlds slow down, if only for a moment. Somewhere, the love drone of a lovesong plays — and you beat it back with a bashful bat of lashes. Loki seems spurred by the sudden shyness that bleeds onto your face, and he chases it.

Ever the suitor, the prince offers up his own blade of grass; and when you meet his eyes with confusion, he urges you with a silent nudge of his chin. So, you take it. And, then, in your palm, the grass springs to life.

This magic is small, infantile, useless — but, by Odin’s beard, he’d do it his whole life if it meant seeing the smile on your face forevermore.

The blade swirls around in your palm, dancing and tumbling in ribbon-like motions. Then, the long blade begins to twist and knot and run around itself, and before you realize it, there’s a flower there in your hand. A blade of grass, contorted in a little daisy.

You smile up at him, and Loki soaks it up; he tries to remember the sight.

You nudge him with your shoulder as you walk, and you tenderling tuck that flower into the breast pocket of your blouse. Safe.

Loki nudges you back, smiling to himself.

Feeling as if... as if that gesture means something more.

And it does.

However, Loki and his reptile-self were very correct about it getting dark fast as you soon learn — and as the meager team of adventurers plod on, it eventually grows dark enough that you can hardly see a few feet infront of you.

It’s each Loki that remedies this problem.

Magic, once more, is gleaned from flicks of the wrist and emerald glows. This time, the lamps and lights procured emit a lighter blue light. You stay close to Loki’s side, tucked neatly against his chest as you both walk.

“I do believe this may be the best we find,” announces the oldest Loki when finally a small little home comes into view, “And let us hope no one else has had the same idea as us.”

As you, your younger self, the youngest Loki, and your mammalian and reptilian friends wait outside, the two older Loki’s move to check the building — only after your Loki hands you his lamp and procures his daggers.

“Stay here.”

It’s protective. An utterance of worry. You slide him a smile that oozes with recognition of the nature of the gesture — and you watch as the two check the one story home.

It’s sitting alone with little else around it but a dying garden and a single tire-swing hanging from a large, creaking tree. The wind cuts through you and as you shiver, the dead oak lets out a mournful cry. You pull your arms around you tigher, holding up the lamp. The younger two huddle closer.

“Come on,” comes the voice of the older man, “It’s clear.”

You bend to scoop up the capybara and climb the steps into the home.

It’s been gutted. By Alioth or by the habitants of this place beyond time, you’re not entirely sure. Little remains but peeling wallpaper and broken windows and faded places where photos once hung. This home was once lived in and loved in. Now, it’s but a ruin. A has-been, a now-haunt.

It makes you sad.

You gently place the capybara down, mirroring the young Loki with his friendly little gator, and squeeze your teenage self’s shoulder as she nervously meanders in. Loki has set a lamp on the ground in the center of the empty room — and the shadows dance on the walls.

“This is... terrifying.”

“It’s not exactly 89 Emerald Street,” you say as you sweep off some dust from the single table by the far wall, “But it’s only for the night. Settle in and get some rest.”

Loki is behind you. His hands are gentle on your shoulders. You turn and look up at him in the light.

“You should rest as well,” he says so quiet, you're sure you're the only one who hears it's softness. His words urge you on with warmth.

You, however, don't like the idea of sleep. Not with so much swirling in your heart. “What will you do?”

“I’ll take watch,” he breathes, nodding to the older Loki, “I’d rather not be taken by suprise by another band of Lokis, honestly. Not at this time of night.”

You reach and lay your hand over his own. “I’ll join you.”

Loki frowns. “You’re exhausted.”

“I have a lot on my mind,” you whisper gently, “I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I tried.”

Over your shoulder, the rest of them have already begun to settle in. Loki holds your stare for a moment, and then gives in. With a sigh, he drops his hands from his hips and nods.

For now, he opts on settling against the far wall. He can see everyone and the window and the door. Anyone traveling in this dark of night will need a light. He'll see them coming.

You settle down next to him. Your hips touch, and your knees knock. He’s warm, and you’re warm, and neither of you complain about the proximity.

The older Loki, in a chair in the center of the room, he pushed his legs out and crosses them at the ankles.

Then, with his eyes closed, he says one word:

“Brown.”

You and Loki blink up at him.

“Her eyes,” he continues, looking up at the cieling. Through the floors there’s a hole. Beyond that, there’s a hole in the roof. In any other place, the stars would wink down. But here, it’s only black. He clears his throat, and closes his eyes once more, “They were brown.”

Loki’s gaze falls.

Yours remains on the older Loki.

“...What was she like?” you ask quietly.

The two teenagers watch on from their reclined positions.

“She was the most breathtaking soul in the entire galaxy,” comes the slow, patient breath as if he’s been waiting to be asked this question for years now; and then, the near smile, and the shake of a head, “She was incompariable. She was as if the stars had handed her their beauty... She loved the stars. We would sit and watch them for hours on Sakaar. But, I could hardly ever take my eyes off of her.”

His voice wavers. It cracks. Your eyes are heavy with sadness.

“I loved her with fiber of my miserable being,” he continues, arms crossed, eyes closed, “And I curse Thanos every with every beat of my heart. Watching her die... half of my soul died that day, too.”

You reach, almost instinctively, for Loki’s hand. You find he was doing the same. Your Loki watches you with a blip of surprise, and runs his thumb across your knuckles. You can’t look away from the man’s grief.

Because you've seen it before.

In that older you, plucking apart a gauntlet in the dark of night, hellbent on finding the other half of her soul once more.

“Without her — I knew,” he finally opens his eyes, “I knew I was nothing without her. She made me better. She gave me purpose. Glorious or otherwise, it mattered not. It was... It was us. And... And so I went on. Alone. I hadn’t realized I’d forgotten the color of her eyes.”

“Brown,” you mutter quietly, squeezing Loki’s hand.

“Brown,” he confirms from across the room, his eyes wet with unfallen tears.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, my love,” he mutters, tucking himself into his cape, “I am just grateful I was able to see your face once more.”

And then, a somber quiet melts between the moments. Soon, it’s slipped into a tired quiet, and as you sit there and think, the merry band of mirrored images has fallen into their own forms of sleep. It’s not a restful one, but it will do the trick for now. The light in the center of the room dims with a gentle pull of Loki’s hand through the air.

The shadows make your face look sad.

“Are you alright?” Loki asks quietly after a while, hand still in yours.

You heavy a long, tired sigh. Your voice is a whisper. "I think so. Are you?"

Loki looks down, rolls his jaw, and nods. "I think so."

You inhale. And you nod. You take your hand and his into your lap. “Promise?”

"Well," Loki leans his head back against the wall; his voice is low as to not disturb the others, "Losing you certainly put some things in perspective. But... I found you. And you're here. And that's all that truly matters, isn't it?"

You hum. You lean your own head back, head turned to watch him. "I guess so."

"What about you?" he asks, turning to look at you, "Do you promise you're alright?"

Your eyes flick from his. You sit up. Then, you tilt your head.

"I've just been thinking."

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, tilting his head in idle curiousity as you turn his hand over and trace the lines of his palm. The gesture stokes a fire in his gut. He can't remember the last time someone touched him so gently.

So tenderly.

You wet your lips. “I suppose I’m thinking about how... I don’t know. It’s like everytime I feel like I’ve finally got my footing in this mess... I get it pulled out from under me. I’m just... scrambling. Trying to... Trying to be okay.”

Loki nods slowly. His eyes flick across your face as he thinks.

You continue. “And — and I think I’m scared.”

His expression is soft. He urges you on with a gentle inquiry. “Of?”

“What happens when we pull back the curtain?” you ask quietly, turning your eyes up to him, “What happens when we find the devil in the details?”

“We kill him,” he answers easily.

“And then?”

“And then...” Loki’s mouth falls closed, realizing... well, he hadn’t really considered beyond that, “I don’t know. I... I don’t.”

“That’s what I’m afriad of,” you stress with the hairline crack in your composure growing, “I mean — what will we even do when it’s all said and done?”

Loki is quiet. He finds he doesn’t like the way this conversation feels. It looms over him — the sort of thing he hasn’t wanted to consider all this time. Will you stay by his side? Will the path this drags you both down allow this love?

Suddenly:

“Mobius showed me how I die.”

Loki’s heart, then, feels as if it’s been twisted straight from his chest. His fingers twitch — and he inhales sharply as he pulls his hand away. No, no he doesn’t like this conversation. His own death he can surmise and handle. But, not you. Not his you.

The light in the room flickers out.

It hides his face; and he’s half thankful for it.

“Why would he show you that?” it’s full of hurt.

You’re quiet for a while longer; and when you finally speak, your voice is rough. Quiet. A broken, little whisper in the dark. It bleeds it’s own dark light.

“I saw what happens when I lose you.”

Loki’s eyes slide shut. His nostrils flare. There’s bitterness on his tongue.

“He did it prove something, I think,” your voice shakes, “That... That it’s in our nature to do whatever we can to find one another, to be with one another.”

Loki’s heart hurts. It hammers angrily; is it anger? A sudden flare of anxiety runs through his limbs and his fingertips tingle. The God can’t help but knots his hands together and worry his palms.

“That’s cruel.”

“Is it?”

“Horribly,” Loki mutters pointedly, “I had the luxury of knowing I’d have you until my end—”

You reach in the dark, once more, and find his hands.

You’re words are slow. Purposeful. Honest.

“I’m beginning to understand it,” you whisper; horribly shy and wonderfully terrified, “How it all falls into place.”

Loki’s mouth snaps shut.

In the dark, he can hardly see your face.

But, he can make out the lines of a smile; he can see the bloom of affection, all for him — beautiful and warm and genuine. It makes him feel like a child again, unexperienced in the ways of true emotional honesty. 

“Back at the TVA,” you whisper, leaning against him, “What were you going to tell me?”

The God inhales. He settles back against the wall. This time, it’s he who pulls your hands neatly into his lap. He fiddles with your palm. The touch is doting. Gentle. His fingertip traces the line of your ring finger.

“You told me,” he says slowly, “That we deserve to be happy.”

“We do,” you say, chin falling to his shoulder, “I meant it.”

“I was going to tell you,” Loki mutters shyly, “That you do make me happy.”

Your world stops.

Not in a screeching, horrible way. No. But, it is as if somewhere the crescendo of the sweetest love song you’ve ever heard has begun; that the strings have begun to waltz with the lovely hum of harps. Here, your heart is dipped in honey-sweet promise. You find the words coming from Loki’s lips pluck your heartstrings with terrifying capability. He could kill you with the way he speaks. It’s gentle. Quiet.

Honest.

“You make me feel... as if I am enough,” he continues as he thinks out every honest syllable, brows pulled tight, “You are far too kind to me.”

"That’s not true,” you say, pressing your nose to his arm as you shake your head, “I’ve been... mean. And I’ve judged you. I’ve — I’ve said things I didn’t mean.”

“My head wasn’t mine,” he says gently, rubbing your knuckles, “It was my father’s critiscm’s. My failure’s. My head belonged to all the things I believed I had to be. But, I’m beginning to understand that... That those things are nothing. Unattainable. And... A-And I don’t want to bring pain and suffering. I want to — I want to feel love. Friendship. Joy. All these things I’d considered so... useless to the very thing I had to possess.”

“Power is a seductive thing,” you mumble, “Its beauty blinds us.”

Loki's stare is strong. He speaks fast. “It holds nothing in comparison to you.”

Your heart stutters once more.

He says it with such conviction — and you swallow down a sudden burn of pure attraction; the sort you’ve been fending off since Lamentis-1. Since he began to grow softer, since he began to be more than just the Loki you knew. 

You lift your eyes and your head and find he’s staring.

In the dark, your proximity feels closer. Like it’s only the two of you, breaths apart, talking — the sort of talking that feels like the sort lovers do. 

You’d like to kiss him like lover’s do, you realize.

Yes, yes, you would.

"Do you mean that?” you breath as your eyes roam his face.

And then, in the dark, he whispers back.

“With all my heart.”

And though, maybe this isn’t how those beyond the Void wrote your story the first time, it’s just as perfect — it’s just as gentle, and honest, and true. In the dark of the Void, both of your souls have tangled in the inevtiable way. 

You kiss him.

It’s awkward and graceless. It’s craned necks and sighs of surprise and tangled fingers — and in the dark, it bleeds gentle and honest and true, just as this love story of yours does. 

This place is not sacred, but this? This kiss is. And when finally the God gives way, turning himself to anchor his hands to your face? When he cradles your jaw, when you find yourself halfway in his lap? When he pulls apart, takes a breath, and kisses you once more with all the feeling in the universe?

It’s sacred. Holy. Reverent. Everything you’ve ever wished for — and when he says your name so sweet, so gentle in the space between mingling mouths? You almost break apart; you find your fingers winding into the fabric of his shirt, right over his heart. You anchor yourself. 

He presses on; because this moment is one he’s never known to be possible — he’s never known this color of young love; he’s only known the darker parts, the lonelier parts, the lies and the pretending. He’s known urges and falisies and jealousy. This is none of those. This is beautiful. 

It’s you.

It’s from the Void, with love.

Your nose bumps his, and finally you pull away to steal a breath; your forehead rests against his — and you bite back a girlish laugh. 

Loki can’t help but do the same. It’s quiet, smothered into your cheek as he dots a tender kiss there as well. 

“Silvertongue,” you accuse with affection.

His thumb runs along your bottom lip. 

“If this is what I gain from sweet, little honest truths?” Loki mutters, “I fear my reputation may be up for scrunity.”

You laugh. It’s ducked into his shoulder. 

He promises himself, then, that he will do everything it takes to never forget the color of your eyes.

Lately I've been so obsessed with Loki, send me requests for him!

My dear | Loki Laufeyson

Sumarry → After faking his death, Loki discovers that his lover is definitely dead.

Pairing → Loki X Avenger!Reader | Word Count → 756

A/N → This is sad, so if you don't like it, or are sensitive, please don't read it, I almost never write something sad so you can read a lot of happy things if you visit my masterlist ♡ English is not my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes.

"I thought you were dead, I cried for you." Thor says, as soon as Loki came out of his Odin form.

"I'm flattered, but brother... where's Y/n." Loki asks looking around looking for his beloved.

"Loki, Lady Y/n is dead." Thor speaks, and Loki laughs as he shakes his head.

"Your humor is funny Thor, I've learned my lesson." Loki says looking at Thor, who continues with the same serious expression.

"I also wish that was a lie."

"No…that's impossible, hell she was stronger than me, she…she was stronger than you!"

"She died a hero in the land-".

"And how the hell would that make me feel better? Where were you? It was your job to take care of the land, not hers!" Loki says yelling at Thor.

"Loki..."

"Thor please, if this is a bad joke." Loki says feeling a lump in his throat, and his eyes burn like never before.

"I'm sorry brother." Loki feels his knees sinking to the ground, and him leaning his head on the ground with his eyes closed, as he remembers his beloved's angelic face.

"Please Thor, take me to where her body is"

Well, Loki sure imagined Y/n in a lot of ways, but none of them were six feet below the ground, he loved her so damn much, he loves her so much, but look at him now, staring at a rock with his beautiful name etched on it.

Thor watched from afar not wanting to disturb his brother's moment, it hurt him too, he missed her so much so he couldn't imagine what Loki was feeling.

"Hi my love I... missed you so much my dear." Loki says already feeling his throat closing up.

"How I wish I could see your little face again." He says kneeling down and stroking the headstone.

"But I'm glad you died the way you wanted." Loki smiles softly as he remembers the conversation he had with Y/na a while back.

"When I die, I hope to at least die a heroine." Y/n said lying on Loki's chest

"Don't say that dear" He closes his eyes, not liking the mention of 'death' and 'Y/n' in the same sentence.

"Come on Loki, I'm not saying I'm going to die tomorrow." She lifts herself from Loki's chest and kisses his cheek.

"You better not"

"Forgive me honey, I wasn't good enough for you, I couldn't save you or give you all the love you deserved." Loki says now crying

"But you need to know that you were always the only one my love, and you will always be the only one"

"The only one who ever had my body, soul and heart, and always will, and I was a fool not to have told you that while you were here." Loki leans his forehead against the headstone with his eyes closed.

"I also never told you that I think about you every hour, minute and second of my day, and I remember our moments not to freak out for good." he laughs softly

"You will be so missed my love, not just for me, but for the fool of Thor, Asgard, the avengers and the land too... you know to this day I can't understand how a fool like me got a hero like you, a queen , my queen.” He laughs and wipes the tears with his hands.

"I'm going to miss your smile so much, the nicknames you used to give me…the feel of your hands touching me." Loki closes his eyes, trying to imagine Y/n touching his skin.

"You always saw the best in me, in fact you always saw the best in everyone, how did you do that?"

"Brother, we have to go now." Thor says putting his hand on Loki's shoulder.

Loki was so focused he didn't even see Thor approaching.

"I have to go now dear...but I promise I will visit you often." Loki kisses the stone with his eyes closed and gets up from the ground still crying.

Thor watched his brother, and he couldn't help but feel a pain in his heart, Y/n was amazing, the only one Loki ever loved, and surely the only one he will ever love and will definitely be missed.

"Goodbye Lady Y/n" Thor says bowing a little.

"My beautiful angel" he says looking at the sky.

I need to get to 1000 followers so I can do my next request event...

"let me ruin your fic ideas"

Loved it 🥺😍💚

Y/n, handing Natasha a piece of paper: I finished some of the extra work you asked me to do.

Natasha: You’re a life-saver, y/n. I’m going to be away for the next couple of days…could you finish the other reports too?

Y/n, already struggling to keep up with all your other work: *plasters on a smile* Sure thing.

Loki, sitting at the back of the room: *slowly turns to look at you*

Steve: Would you mind also looking after those shipments coming in today?

Y/n, taking a deep breath: *smiles wider* No problem.

Loki: *suddenly stands up and walks over to you*

Loki, introducing himself: *takes your hand* I’m Loki, it’s a pleasure to meet you.

Y/n: *shakes his hand* It’s nice to finally meet you, too.

Loki: …how are you?

Y/n, silently breaking: *smiles* I’m fine-

Loki: *smiles back* No, you’re not.

Loki: *glares at the other Avengers* Are you all BLIND?

Bruce: What are you talking about?

Loki: You dare call yourselves heroes? Does she look FINE to you?

Clint: *stares at you* …yes? I mean, she’s smiling. But then again, she’s always smiling.

Tony: It’s true, I’ve never met someone so disgustingly cheery.

Bruce: Considering everything she does around here, I have no idea how she can stay so damn happy.

Natasha: *waves around the report you gave her* She’s been helping me with my extra work.

Tony: Brings me coffee whenever I ask.

Thor, yelling from the kitchen: And snacks!

Steve: And whenever a mission goes poorly, she’s there to keep us going.

Loki: *blinks away tears* Well then, seeing as no one else seems to CARE about your well being…

Loki: *grips your hand and takes you out of the room*

Y/n: *running to keep up* Where are we going?

Loki: Anywhere you desire, as long as it’s far away from here.

Y/n: But the reports, all the work I have to-

Loki: You’ve done enough for them…it’s time you were treated with the respect you deserve.

Y/n: *starts to smile again*

Loki: It’s time someone did something for you for a change.

Loki: …and that someone is going to be ME.

Isn't Bite Also Touch?

(Loki X Female demon!reader)

Chapter seven! (check chapter 6!)

Summary: A lot of smut following, a bit of angst as they'll fight later on. Is there anything suspicious about the Angel?

Warnings: Smut!! Blasphemy, alcohol, fighting, (physical aggression, scratching) improper use of magic, slapping, verbal insults, screaming, probably a bit of exhibitionism, (but not really? Loki's pretty possessive, he's just really mad) hate-sex, rough fuck, mean Loki.

“Not the shoes!” Thor exclaimed scandalously as he watched the scene.

Loki makes a disgusted sound with his throat, stepping carefully and processing the fact there was demon vomit on his new, expensive, on-brand shoes. Messily, as he's still groggy with all the alcohol on his system, he lifts his hand up the air and magically removes the offending substance off his shoes.

“Be careful next time.” He harshly commands, but you're still dizzy and fighting to remain steady, trembling on your feet, his eyes soften as he sees your state. “Is it better now? Do you need to go somewhere?” He asks and receives no answer from you.

“You've never really enjoyed my presence, have you?” The Angel speaks up. It's weird to see you looking so small. “And the first impression I have of you after all these years is of you throwing up, your body has gotten weak.” The Angel repulsively spits out, you refuse to look at him and pull an extremely confused Loki by his arms, dragging him out of there.

You two get together inside a tiny, hidden, locked room. Loki restlessly demands information of the angel who just appeared to ruin your party. 

“Fuck it, I shouldn't have allowed myself to drink so much.” You put your hands on your head, feeling the stinging sensation.

“It was fun while it lasted, you have to admit.” 

“You just liked seeing me lose control.” You bring up, still not looking at him.

“You always have control of everything.” He points out.

“Do I?” You smirk knowingly, licking your lips at his attitude. He looked all disheveled and your sudden unquietness within yourself made you want to explode. “Damn it, just take your fucking clothes off.”

“Excuse me?” He blinks and gapes a bit, looking stupid, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. He takes off his shoes, and his hands jump to unfasten his shirt but he just hesitates until you say it again.

“You heard me, take them off.” You say and push his chest until his back lays against the soft, foreign bed. “Do you want me to do it for you?” You were out of patience and reaching to straddle his body beneath yours.

He gulps and proceeds to do as you say, fighting to take his shirt off his torso as quickly as possible, resisting the temptation to lift his hand and touch your skin after he's shirtless. He just keeps them there up beyond his reach.

Oh. 

He's keeping his hands to himself, up his head, presenting his body to you. You give a diabolic smile that shows your pointy teeth, as you're close to salivating at the sight of his muscular pecs exposing his heavy breathing and very very warm sweat speckling down his skin.

You lean forward closer to his face, locking eyes with him, just to close your fingers around each of his wrists. Keeping it there lifted now with full control, just like he wanted, his pupils are dark and his eyes so pleasing you're starting to think you're drunk on something else. 

He groans, closing his eyes in response from the pleasure of you squeezing his skin tight as you suffocate his senses with your body practically glued to his.

“Fuck.” It's all you can muster, you never could have guessed drunk-you would be so lacking for words. Maybe it's just his intoxicating aroma deafening your senses.

“Demoness,” he puts himself through a test and tries to let go of your hands. He succeeds and gives you a very bright malicious smile. “You temptress,” His eyes sparkle with malice as he hungrily watches your body burn under his fingertips. “My mistress bathed in sin.”

His hands snake down your skin and you allow it, for now. He's still smiling and still licking his lips at the sight of you on top of him. The moment stops for you as you notice his eyes sparkle a bit more as he admires.

Then he turns you around and pins you under his body, with all the pressure he can apply. And you try to squirm out but it's like his body is made of iron with how heavy he is on top of you, locking you beneath him. 

His hellish amusement is there and now you grunt out to the air.

“I allowed it,” you brag.

“Of course you did, you're just a horny stupid little thing, aren't you?” You get red from his words, but he doesn't relent, and he can sense you're starting to shake a little. “You'd let me do all the work.”

“You can't–”

“Can't what?” His hips grind against yours, both of you still clothed but craving, dying for the friction. “Can't what? You brought me here, wouldn't want to ruin the party for me, would you, little one? No…” He runs his mouth down the skin of your neck to your breasts, and his cold breath is making you shiver. “No, you have something to give me.” He almost orders. And you spread your leg a little wider in invitation, he pulls your dress up and his hands start kneading your ass.

Your teeth are gritted in response to his degrading words. But you just swallow your defenses, both of your dizzy drunken brains managing to make the situation much simpler as you just allow him to take control.

He is visibly excited for this, preparing you with his touching, delighting on your sounds and huffs of pleasure, “Are you okay? Is this okay?” he frowns a bit as he remembers, waiting patiently as you can read the underlying question: do you truly want this? Are you sober?

Your heart palpitates faster, your gaze is dazzled with wonder, noticeable for a while, as you stare into his questioning but patient eyes. You're okay, you know you are, but you're more than pleased to know he's a man of morals even when you can feel how horny he is, pulsing against the skin of your thighs.

Also, it's not very often that you see gods being morally correct. Or not just caring about themselves, if there's one thing you've been impressed with since the beginning, it's about how Loki, somehow, always cares for you, even when he pretends he doesn't.

“I'm ok, it's ok.” You consent, nodding a little, and wait a moment in silence. “Are you ok?”

He seems lost while gazing hungrily at your body, his mouth open as he unconsciously unleashes his breathing. Grasping you a bit too hard around your hips, he looks into your eyes again. “Yes, yes I am.”

It's the last thing you hear before he dives between your thighs, looking feral as he admires your glistening pussy, he silently wonders if he's been bewitched, for he felt starved from your delicious cunt and it's only been an hour —if he still remembers properly. But damn it now, he doesn't care about anything else but you and your scent, poisoning his system.

He curses a Nordic profounity, “Fuck, fuck. Demoness, you're killing me now, I'm sure of it. You're poisoning me,” he states and you push him to eat you out, forcing his words to an end as you smile up to the ceiling so adoringly, feeling his skilled tongue pleasing you.

“I wouldn't kill you,” You breathe out shaking. Soon you wouldn't be able to even feel your legs as they're numbing from overstimulation, your body recalling the early hours of the party. You moan loudly as you jolt from the thought and from Loki's tongue hitting your sweet spot.

When he pulls out, there's your essence tainting his lips, you curse out to all the princes of Hell. They could be damned now, you'd let this god do anything to you, if kept looking at you like you carry the whole world, eating you out like you're the best thing his lips ever tasted.

Loki keeps your thighs well spread out for him, giving a kiss to your stomach, and your heart waves at the soft touch. That was so cute, to you. He keeps kissing and licking the area, giving small bites at times when noticed you got too ticklish, or squirmed more under his touch.

When his body went up his kisses came too, and you felt the head of his cock move up and down to drown in your juices, coming close to your clit just to tease and moving down, slowly again.

“L-Loki,” You wave, quivering under his ferocious gaze. He licked his lips as he watched you like you're his last meal. His hand lands on your lower back. ”Please,” you gulp dumbly as you watch him. “Just fuck me.”

“Ask nicely.” He teases more, his hand close to holding you down by your neck. You whimper as you feel the head of his cock entering you, he takes a deep breath to keep his ground as he awaits your begging. Almost unable to contain himself, his jaw clenched and hands twitching, hurting your skin but you don't mind.

You force yourself to swallow your pride. Rolling your eyes a bit too harshly before feeling him pulling out and entering more of his cock into your sensitive cunt, you're unused to the size and your walls are stretched with a tad discomfort. He chuckles.

“Do you feel pain, little slut? Who would've thought, a dirty demon like you.” He cruelly mentions your visible, slight discomfort. Mocking. 

You tilt your head to him, clenched jaw but pleading eyes still wanting to feel more of him despite the pain, the need to feel him deep inside you needing to be scratched.

“Please,” you keep going, jaw still clenched, you can pinpoint submissiveness to the alcohol, later. For now, you want him, all of him. “Please, please, please. Give me your cock.” Your hands clench around his shoulders as you bring him closer, he grants you your wish.

Your knees have given out and you feel helpless for the first time in so long, your whole body was pinned against him as he speared into you with such a furious intensity, getting so deep you gasped in utter surprise. His hands around your neck and a whispered sign down your earlobe to “Keep begging me,” and you're at a loss, babbling the sound of his name and the word 'please'.

He reaches around to touch your clit, matching his unforgiving pace, picking up his speed as he groans feeling you clench around him so deliciously. Small yelps left your throat with each of his harsh thrusts, you're a mess as your back arches closer to his chest.

His hand moves to hold your back carefully as he keeps heavily grunting onto your ear, his breathing deep and low voice demanding of your pleasure. He harshly grasps your skin with his nails, you scratch his back together from all the pressure hitting your sensitive cunt.

As he massages your clit, it makes you jolt under his touch with each stroke. His thrusts becoming more and more animalistic, brutal, he rams into you, your whole body is shaking roughly with his brutish pounding.

You can barely hear your own moaning as Loki fills all of your senses, he is everything you touch and his growls and grunts are all you hear. You two fill the quiet room with the sound of sex and moaning.

“Look at you,” he gloats. “You were so insistent upon not looking inferior, now you tremble beneath me.” He gives a slow, harsh thrust, to emphasize his point, your eyes roll and your mouth opens, almost drooling. “Pray to me.” 

His words come out rough and too low timbre. your whole body shivers and your core tightens, burning from his words alone, he gets so fast-paced with his pounding you can't even catch a breath.

“W-w-wh-what?” You ask among his savage rhythm. Your mouth is in the shape of an 'O' as he pulls out only to slip even further inside you, if that's possible.

“You heard me,” He messily moves his hand from your back to pull your hair. It makes you remember the other time, when he refused to sleep with you. You give him a shameless, taunting smile. 

He yanks your hair locking eyes with you, a deep moan escapes your lips in response. “Pray to me. Pray, and this God might save your devious soul. I'm the only God you have to think of.”

Little does he know, —although he should — but you don't have a soul to be saved. It's not like you're going to correct him now. 

Your head moves back and forth mixing with his body smashing against your flesh, you don't fear the dizziness that'll install later, his fucking making you completely mindless.

You gulp and sob out, your brain struggling to remember how to speak through the fogginess of pleasure.

“In-In- nomine Patris, et- Filii, et Spiritus Sancti,” you start, broken Latin as you fight to remember what the prayers are—those that make your skin burn with their Grace— his punishing pounding getting worse and more frantic as your praying comes to life.

“T-t-tu es qu-qui jaces in-in-in Coelis, gratia plena,” your voice is trembling, fighting to keep the tone alive. You sob your tears from the sensitivity blinding your sight through the sinful act. The blasphemy drowning you, filling the pits of your stomach. “i-in omnibus nobis omnia praesens, omnium salvator.” You spit out the end, locking eyes with him.

“Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra–” You trip over your words as he starts sucking and biting your neck.

He furiously rubs his hand against your clit. His voice strained to say the next words, his breaking point coming present as he pronounces all his Asgardian splendor.

“C-come, come now. Kom for meg, min lille djevel.” You scream and spasm around him, clutching all you can grab of him, wanting to feel as much as possible. You see stars as you cum around him, shaking, the squelching sound so sinful reaching your ears.

Loki growls near your jawline, his thrusts getting slack as he's closer to completion. He shudders, you feel his cock pulsing inside of you, filling you full with his warm cum.

Loki's breaths are labored as his thrusting slows down, riding his orgasm. When he pulls out, there's the trace of semen tainting your skin and trickling down your thighs.

You're panting heavily as he pulls you closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours, he leans forward to kiss you. You didn't even get to catch a breath as he changes your position and deepens the kiss.

You felt your body aching from the sex, your head was spinning from the damned alcohol you had last night. As much as it hurts to feel some pins and needles, you still had the new — horrifying—experience to feel human.

You don't know how you feel about that. 

Lifting yourself as quickly as possible to hurry to the bathroom, as you feel nauseated, you suddenly remember your conditions and physically recoil from agony and disgust of yourself.

Throwing up? You've allowed yourself to throw up? Especially in front of your 'brother'? At a party filled with humans?

Outrageous, gross. You want to kill your human form and remove the skin to stop from feeling so dirty and humane. But all you can express outloud is a sincere grunt of annoyance, grabbing the skin of your stomach.

It takes some time, you arrive at the bathroom and contain your vomiting, using your magic to stop the sickness and the lightheadedness, throwing up now would make you simply refuse to exist. 

It takes time for you to notice Loki's not in the room.

You take a look at the place, analyzing every detail you didn't notice before. And hurry to get out of there and find Loki.

You end up bumping into him as you walk out of that strange room, he looks you up and down, his mind rushes through the thoughts of your well-being, then he seems to put himself together. Clearing his throat.

His mind rushed through a series of nightmares he had last night, but they came to you as a bunch of blurred images. 

The last time he had nightmares, he thought it was your fault, but after spending the night feeding off your delectable supernatural body he wondered how he could have such torturous, painful nightmares. Especially after such a long time since he had the company of anyone in his sleep.

It hit him like a plague, and ruined his mood, apparently that would never leave him.

“Morning.” Insouciant, why would that be?

“Good morning!” You exclaim, merry to see him. He looks confused. “Where were you going? I didn't see you. I'm pretty sure you still slept in the same bed as me last night.”

“That's none of your business.” Once again, you're facing the mean kitty. You sighed.

“You were much easier to deal with last night. You were very touchy, if I can say.” You remember him and all the clear touching you shared at the party and at the end of it.

“Look, just because I fucked you doesn't mean I feel anything for you, so you should stop looking for me.” He looked very serious as he said this, you suddenly feel so much of a feeling you've never felt before. Like cold water has just been poured down your good mood. A foreign feeling pounding into your chest.

Shame.

And he continues.

“It was a wonderful fuck, and I'd love to do it again, even though you're insufferable and… surprisingly weak for a being such as a demon, it makes me a bit disappointed, I expected more a bit more.” He tilts his head arrogantly as he dares to put you down.

You weren't expecting to feel such a weird pang in your heart from his words, it's not sadness, but anger instead. Your face fell and you closed your fist around your chest. 

“I've only never left because you never truly wanted me to go away,” you give him a fake smile, your eyes burning, denying the tears. “You may say whatever you want, but you know you've always been alone and the one that's never picked. The last option, the second, unwanted child, I know. Always the shadow of another, you delight yourself upon the attention I give you.” You close your mouth but look very sour, wanting to hurt him.

“I could say the same of you,” He says through gritted teeth and clenched jaw. Pointing towards you in spite. “Your 'brother' made you throw up last night, who are you to say you're not also unwanted? Is that the main reason you seek attention from me? Because you crave it? Or is it because you can't let me go? You've said it yourself, demon, your attraction to my powers, to my magic, to me. It doesn't make you want to go away, so what do you have to say? Your infatuation makes you weak and predictable. I've said this from the start, you're the one that's been too fucked dumb until you forgot this fact.” He spits it all out, looking down at you, his eyes looking so sharp like knives.

“You know nothing about me.” You say coldly, breaking your charismatic endeavor.

“You've shown me your cards a long time ago, little demon. I know how you work,” He's too proud, you burn with rage. “I could use your body like my personal sex toy and you wouldn't even deny me, would you? Having my personal demon slave to break until you cry, that's how emotional you are, you'd probably just break down to pieces. Are you having fun with the humans? Are they making you as pathetic as they are? Do you want to save the world with them, do you think any sensible human on this planet would consider you a hero?” His voice trembles as he says the last sentence. 

The next noise that the room echoes is a sudden snap, Loki's face red, burning from the mark of your violence. You slapped him. 

Your gaze is distant as you watch his surprised eyes burning with agitation from having startled you. You're suddenly filled with anger to a point you start hitting his chest.

He can prevent all the attacks, and he doesn't take it seriously, you'd probably scare a mortal but Loki's way too egotistical now, all your early compliments of his powers feeding into his image of being superior, mistakenly thinking he's superior to you.

And over all of this, he's convinced he hates you. He can feel the scratches stinging and marking their presence on his pale arms as you tried to attack with your bare hands.

He loses composure and falls with you on top of him, your hands squeeze his arms harshly, craving your nail into his skin, purposefully strong enough and wanting to make it bleed. It pleased you. 

He leaves a hiss as he locks your hands again, but he can still feel the scratching and gripping and hitting throughout other parts of his body.

“How are you doing this?!” He exclaims feeling the punches still hit him as he holds down your fists.

It's comparable to a ghostly touch, it's aggressive, freezing and scorching at the same time, you were all like the demon you're supposed to be. Exposing the anger and the punishment against his skin being the victim.

“You're only scared because you know I hold the truth.” He says.

“You can't offend me, Laufeyson. I only give you what you deserve,” You spit on him, and he backs off, leaving your hands free as you get angrier on top. “You can't, I know every one of your sins, I know your fears.”

“You don't know what I am,” he said sadly, trying to keep a stable look. “You don't.”

“I know you're the spoiled child here, not me.” You say, “You act like you're so tortured but you've had everything in life and you're nothing but a spoiled little prince that deserves nothing but cruelty, so you'll know how others feel.” You look into his eyes as you're wishing to hurt him. “Maybe I should punish you myself,” you sound a bit too serious, as if another play-pretend is coming to an end, a bit too out of your mind. “What do you think? Should I? Should I make your life a living hell? Should I make you pay for the souls you've killed? I promise it's more than some hundred people the Avenger's data claim to be. Come on, Loki!” You scream at his face, still straddling him, his hands shaking now but unmoving to push you off.

“Come on, Loki!” You continue, “Think of the parents, their children, growing up alone after you killed them, the families ruined. Should I make you suffer for them all?”

He looks sad now, you could see the tears silently showing on the corners of his eyes. You couldn't stop, you don't feel guilt, it doesn't come with your nature. 

“You wouldn't dare. Even if I deserve it, you wouldn't punish me.” He coldly says, trying to snap against you, he's surprised he can't do it this time.

You close your mouth and give him a furious look, you know you shouldn't speak now, you don't want him to know too much about you. You can't, so you lie.

“You're right,” you lie, too saccharine, coming too easily, you just have to look a bit defeated. He doesn't look like he believes you, ever so doubtful. “You're right, I said I wouldn't. I can't punish you.” 

He doesn't want to think about your trustworthiness, nor about his arguments. He closes the distance between the two of you, right out of the foreign room, out there in the hallway. 

In contrast to the night before, now his touch only shows his anger and shame instead of any passion.

He doesn't want you to feel anything other than his hatred and fury, he's angry, all too angry at your words. At your daring to look innocent and bubbly, at your fake pretend act, at your secrets, at your constant clinginess, at your touches. At you. He's angry at you, he's quickly convinced he hates you and that you're messing with his mind to make you seem like a good person.

He growls against the inside of your mouth as he seeks forward your open shirt, grabbing the skin with the equal pressure of wishing to make it bleed too, he cupped the back of your head and brought you close as he brutally bites your lower lip. 

“Ow, you fuck–” You complain, feeling it bleed, lifting your hand instinctively to touch the wound, he grabs your hand and keeps it down in place. Using his seidr to remove his pants and all of your clothes, the top of his asgardian leather vest prodding your bare stomach, you look around the hallway, scared someone will pass by. “The cameras. Someone might–”

“I'm tired of your feigned innocence.” He angrily silences you, he puts his hand to cover your mouth and your mumbles stuffle around his palms. “Let them see. Let them watch.” He rolls his hips roughly to your pelvic arch, pumping his cock to prepare and grunting out to the Heavens as he slides it into your already dripping hole. 

You didn't want to confess how much the possibility of any strangers watching enticed you. “Let them see who brings the demon to her knees.” You bite his hand harshly and he hisses, grabbing your chin violently and squeezing, feeling your dental arch under the skin of your face. Your lips plump bright from his harsh kissing.

“Fuck, no–” You squeak out, not meaning it, but he still hesitates, until you glance at him and nod again, more frenetically, trying to get him to move as you babble meaningless denials. He keeps his thrusting, going harder and harder, making you grip his hips to steady. Afraid someone will hear the noise of your flesh hitting together ferociously. “Oh, OH!” You scream out.

“I want to devour you, you cruel thing.” He tightens his grip on your chin while pistoning your poor cunt. “I want to eat you up, you're a little bug compared to me. Tiny little useless little bitch.” He keeps his punishing pace. “This is the punishment you'll receive, tell me, do you like it? Am I being fair? It's an honorable punishment, being my little cumslut, I'll make you my little cum dumpster,” his eyes sparkled as he said the term to refer to you. “I'll fill you up and you won't be able to move, feeling me right here with your every step, feeling the stickiness that'll mark you as mine, so you'll forget your bratty behavior.” He puts his hand to rest on your womb, and you moan loudly, locking eyes with the tiny, almost unnoticeable, camera. Not knowing if it's on or not, either way, you're likely giving a whole performance.

“Ah! Oh, no,” you feel your eyes sting with tears as you're pinned down, against the cold floor. Your legs give out whilst they also tremble with every hit of his skin against yours. 

He pulls out quickly and turns you around, now your mouth is fighting to stay far from the ground. He yanks your hair as he pushes your entire face towards the floor, arching your lower back, presenting yourself to him. He kicks your legs open to hurriedly shove his throbbing, aching cock, inside of you again.

The manhandling got you shaking for him, his thrusting forceful as your face dizzily scratched in contact with the harsh freezing floor of the hallway. He's pounding into you as if to convince himself of his lack of care for you. 

Reaching his fingers around you to eagerly touch your clit, wishing for your constricting walls to suffocate his cock, to unknowingly pull him in deeper so he could flood your insides with his seed.

He wanted to make the devil tremble beneath him every single time, to feel your knees weak for him, he feared he was addicted. Your body invites him with such warmth, to paint your walls white with his cum.

When he feels you jolting harshly, he growls and his hips snap strongly to guide you through your orgasm, not relenting in his pace. You felt yourself getting too overstimulated as you moaned very soft whines and pushed your hands weakly against his chest. 

He kept a vicious pace until his thrusting began getting uneven as he grunts out loudly, pushing your skin as he fills your abused cunt with loads of his cum.

Both of you lay out of breath on the floor, trying to recover a balanced breathing pattern, his marvelous hand still grasping your skin as strong as he could, instinctively.

Once you both recover, he moves his fingers to magically redress himself. Keeping you dumbly watching him, even as he lifts off of your body, he doesn't make a move to dress you.

“You're such a dick.” You spit out the words, looking around to check where your clothes are, before remembering he magicked them off.

“I could help you, of course,” He pretends to think of something. “But I'll only do so, if you tell me what's the deal with the angel.” He brings the topic out of the blue.

“I don't need your help!” You exclaim angrily, getting up naked. “You don't scare me, Loki.” You give him a stern look.

“I should. You should be scared of me. And you don't look half as terrifying as you think you do, while you're naked.”

You ignore the teasing and focus on the way he's trying to intimidate you. “You're just a god. I've seen millions of them.” 

“Which only fuels my curiosity, can I even know how old you are?”

You grunt out and physically hesitate, you despise going anywhere near personal talk. You make new clothes magically reappear.

“I could get you naked in a snap of my fingers if you don't answer me.” He smirks, glancing down at your body.

“I think you forget I'm more powerful than you.” You state still denying him attention.

“I should probably wait for a team meeting, so I could make everyone see how much of a beauty you are.” 

“They probably already know.” You glance at the camera, that's not speckling any light to sign its functioning. “Or maybe not, either way, I could get you naked in a second too.” You dared.

“Oh, I hope you do.” He grabs your waist and presses both of his hands down your stomach.

“In the middle of the hallway?!” Stark insults, accompanied by a frantic Steve by his side.

“We should create a rule of no sex around the tower.”

“Everybody would lose within a week, dumbass, only you wouldn't.” Stark pats his chest, you get yourself out of Loki's grip. “We all saw what you two did last night on the table, your luck is that a lot of people do the same in these parties. Just don't do it very…often.” He refuses to look at you two.

You don't answer him and just walk away, reaching another huge area. Most of the spaces resemble the living room for resting, that's close to the meeting room. It's not really your fault for not knowing the places or their purposes yet.

“Don't you want to go down to the training room?” Steve asks you, walking in with you. “It'll be useful, it's what we usually do around these hours. And you'll probably need to do it one time or another.”

“I'll think about it–” You end up bumping someone as you were staring at Rogers. 

“Where are your manners?” Inquiries the being, the great Symbol of Heaven. “Honestly, sister, you've been falling off your feet a lot since the party.”

“Don't call me that.” 

“Do you have something against him?” Stark asks, a bit rhetorically, as he can already sense the answer.

Loki arrogantly tilts his head now that he knows it'll be difficult for you to walk away.

“Of course I have, I don't want to be near him.” You say.

“You don't have to.” The Angel responds.

“Have you people just adopted him now?” Loki asks the two headmasters of the group, and they both look at each other. 

“Firstly, we don't "adopt"–” Stark got interrupted mid his sentence, as the angel presented himself.

“I am the Angel Ediel.” His words give a glimpse in space, and time, and everyone questions their sanity for a second, they could swear they saw something changing. Ediel is as bright as the sun when he grins at his sister.

“Did you guys see that?” Asks Thor as he walks through the door.

“See what?” You question, not knowing what he's talking about.

“I- the thing̛̱͙̟̪̣̠̓̒͑̽–” Thor looks around, then something stops while they're all still looking at the angel.

Until everything stops, Thor enters the room again and repeats the same question. 

“Did you guys see that?” The god asks.

“See what?” You question him.

“I don't remember…” Thor looks down, confused, a finger on his chin as he wonders. They all look at each other now and Tony points at you.

“Just don't kill each other while you're here, he may be good for us, it's always safe to be in the presence of an angel.”

“I actually feel much safer indeed.” Steve expresses and you roll your eyes. Loki knew you had nowhere to hide now.

“Why do you hate him?” Loki asks you.

“Don't you also hate your brother? I have my reasons.” You snap and try to run away once more, until Tony gets ahold of your arm. 

“Calm down now hocus pocus, what is it that you have to say? We have the right to know, what if it's something dangerous?”

“Why is everyone so stuck in this? I have the right to not say anything if I don't want to.”

“I don't see what's wrong either,” Ediel says, defending you. “My sister should feel free to walk away just as she wants to.”

“He seems nice. Just a bit off-putting.” Thor brings up watching the other blond.

“Now you know what you're like.” Loki bickers with Thor. And they share a look close to a childlike war.

“Ediel is a fallen angel,” You tell the group with a quiet tone, wanting nothing more than to go away. “Anything—anyone, that falls out of Heaven must be an evil entity, a fraud, a sinner–”

“If that were true, that'd appeal to you,” Ediel says. “This is everything demons admire. If the accusations were truthful, you'd have no reason to hate me.” The avengers could sense how little you felt close to the golden angel.

“They don't know you. They don't know us. Stay out of my way.” You point to your brother and walk out.

“Do you want to explain the whole 'sister' thing?” Loki casually brings up the topic as Ediel keeps a watch on your way out. “She doesn't seem to cooperate, so who knows, you might actually be useful.” He says to the angel.

Ediel feels bashful before speaking, “It's actually fairly simple,” he says your name and proceeds to talk about you. “She is related to Satan himself, raised by Him, and unfortunately so am I, now.” He says feeling his heart ache with shame.

“However that's not a reason for any of you to hate me, or mistrust me,” he quickly explains as their eyes wander around. “I stay in a different position, I'm never in Hell and I've never been close to it, I stay on the surface nearby Earth. I'm more of an actual fallen angel, I'm a guardian, a protector. A savior.”

Loki rolls his eyes in annoyance, “That's what your sister claimed too, when I first met her. I've heard enough.” He tells them and moves somewhere else too, Thor follows him with a sheepish expression.

“I am a being created by God,” Ediel says to the others. “He loves me, as he does to you all, but unfortunately I'm too close to Satan here. Too close, unfortunately, to be mistaken with a demon. I'm just grateful to know my truth, and I'll keep my guard upon us, against the evil that is the demon that inhabits here.”

Everyone looks convinced that this angel won't go away. But Tony needed to state some things.

“Right, cherub, we don't need help. Demoness is not a terrifying or evil entity, she's been cooperating, and at the exact moment she decides to misbehave, the authorities–” Tony gives a dramatic pause to make sure his point comes across. “will deal with her. Earth authorities, the law. We're not afraid of your evil little friend. You can stay calm.”

“It's still an obligation that I have to stay present and keep a watch.” 

“That makes me quite uncomfortable,” Steve says. “What do you mean by keeping a watch?”

“Nothing frightful, human, I promise you. I'll stay here to ensure everyone's safety, and I'll make sure to be a good spirit to all, I'm the bringer of God's words and great spirit.” He gives everyone a bright smile again.

Translations: In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti = In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Tu es qui jaces in Coelis, gratia plena =Thou who art lies in Heaven, full of Grace.

In omnibus nobis omnia praesens, omnium salvator = He is present to all of us, the savior of all.

Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in Terra = Thy kingdom come. Thy wish will be done, as it is in Heaven and on Earth.

Kom for meg, min lille djevel = Come for me, my little devil.

★

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101

How can your writing always be so incredible?? Honestly, everything you write is amazing.

The ending is so sweet, the way they say they love each other so easily now 💗💗

I loved this story and all the details, and obviously the fucks (the way you know how to write something that can pull on my heartstrings, but also make our erotic dreams come true, I loved their anger, I loved the angry fucks)

The “Is it really so hard to believe? That I love you?" And the way he nodded, broke my heart, love that he'll learn how to be loved now.

Also the "my love"s they shared too, will stick with me, they made me so happy. Can't wait to read the epilogue!

Final Bids: Love Wins [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: (20) A loved-up Loki has a surprise or two for you in his chambers. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Hostile Fluff. Language. Biker! Loki 'fit cameo. (w/c 3.8k)

You and Loki hadn't stop kissing from the moment the elevator closed to the moment it slid open on the sixty-fifth floor. You had run out the main doors of the event suite with the stares of bemused looking spectators following you, the crowd parting. There was no looking back as Loki’s fingers grasped your own, knitted tightly.

He was still bare-chested, the button of his trousers still undone. Hair was wild, cheeks hot, smiles wide as cat-calls and ringing shouts of ‘finally’ followed far beyond the lavish foyer.

Your searching hands clawed at his naked back as he pressed you against the glass wall of the lift. Floor disappeared below, winding higher as you moaned into his open mouth.

“Come on…” he muttered, eyes flashing with mischief before yanking you out the open elevator doors and around the corner towards his rooms. His sanctuary. He strode ahead, making you teeter on your heels as you tried in vain to keep up. With an impatient growl, he spun - lifting you effortlessly around his hips. You gasped, a giggle escaping as his features retained their set determination. “You were taking too long. As usual. ” he growled, taking several more strides before slamming your back against his front door.

Loki’s hand at your back blanketed the impact as his lips ravenously enveloped your own. The god’s tongue swept inside your mouth, a mewl sneaking from your throat as you turned to messy putty beneath his possessive wiles. Somewhere, there was a low beep. The door fell open. Loki stumbled inside, holding you steady with one strong arm. His tongue never left your mouth as you groaned against him, his furiously hard cock pressing eagerly against your inner thigh. Reluctantly, he lowered you the floor, spinning you gently to face the room beyond the entryway. You gaped, taking in the lavish dark furnishings you had only imagined as you touched yourself beneath your bedsheets in the dead of night. Thick velvet curtains hung closed against the windows; green, of course. The scent of rich mahogany filled the air, shy curls of smoke wafting from dozens of candles set on the bookshelves which lined the living room. A fireplace that you were entirely sure wasn't to code suddenly roared to life in the corner. To your right, you could just see a sliver of a majestic bed-frame through the crack of a door. Looking back to the room at hand, you suddenly realised you had company. Of sorts. Nine mannequins were placed in a semi-circle at the far corner of the room, giving them the look of some sort of macabre council. Loki’s warm breath fanned your ear as he stooped to speak, noting your interest. “Do they bring back fond memories, darling?” he purred, making you shiver. The wetsuit, the biker ensemble, the kilt, the fencing pants, the captain’s uniform, the slutty caftan, the Tudor king, the wolf fur, the holy vestments – they were all here. “I thought you would appreciate a reminder of our journey together on this auspicious occasion.” he whispered slowly, measuring your reaction. You giggled, throwing a glance over your shoulder before moving towards them to investigate. “What would you have done with these if I’d not...you know, done what I did downstairs?” “Burn them, obviously.” “Obviously.” you replied dryly, pinching the edges of the wetsuit and running your fingers down thoughtfully. It feels like so long ago. “Although I was quietly confident that my masterplan would yield fruit.” he smirked, perching elegantly on the armrest of hi sofa. “Master-plan...” you scoffed derisively, gravitas quashed by the unshakeable grin stretched across your face. “Keep telling yourself that, Laufeyson.” Minutes passed as you inspected each piece while Loki watched in silence, a gentle smile on his lips.

“I thought I would allow you a choice of attire for us to consummate our truce.” he said, slowly rising and circling behind as you paused in front of the ravaged kilt hanging on its holder. "Truce? How romantic." you murmured sarcastically, hearing the tap of his dress shoes against the mahogany floor. The mannequins were an exact replica of Loki’s frame, you realised, running your hand down the rough woollen sash. You shivered, remembered the sight of his war-stained features surfacing between your spread thighs on the wet battlements. Loki’s hips pressed against your ass, his hard stomach moulding to the shape of your spine as he loomed behind you. “Can’t you see which one I’d choose, the whole mindreading-whatever-it-is?” you said absent-mindedly, snapping a long strap of the fencing pants for effect. Loki chuckled. “Oh, that." Loki drawled. "With some difficulty, I fashioned an enchantment so that I cannot see too deeply. I have cut myself off, as it were. It is only an aura of your mood that I have access to – and nothing to be done about that. Unless your love for me wanes, of course.” You turned, unable to disguise your shock. “What?! Since when?” Loki's features twisted in an apologetic grimace. “At the faire...I began to delve too deeply. I knew that you did not approve, I felt...guilty." He paused, surprised at his own revelation. "Was I wrong?” he added, brows slanted. “No I just…” you started sheepishly, biting your lip. Your eyes widened. “But some of the things you said in Rome, the little comments, the-” “About you wanting me, you mean?” Loki scoffed gently. He shook his head. “Any fool could see that, darling. My brother, for one.” You turned away, closing you eyes as you tried to process how unbearably in love with him you were. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest. He really is full of surprises. “You could have told me.” you said with a feigned air of annoyance, fingering the intricate embroidery of the sheer caftan. “And lose my advantage in our little tirades? I think not, Agent.” Loki purred, eyes burning with mischief. “Besides, I do not need magical abilities to read you.” You could feel his soundless approach, the warmth of his bare chest inches from your back. “Now choose, please.” he whispered, a wandering hand slipping around your waist. Your palm slid up his cheekbone from behind, pressing him against the crook of your neck. “I don’t need a costume, Loki” you whispered, turning. “I just need you.” The god chuckled into your hair. “Are you sure they didn’t help pave the way to your heart? I thought it would be...romantic.” You rolled your eyes. “Well they didn’t hurt.” You ran your eyes down the white captain’s uniform pressed neatly against its mannequin. “But really…” you said, sliding your palm over Loki’s shoulders. “I just want you, Loki. All of you.” The god’s brow furrowed, a bob in his throat as his mind fought to catch up. “I see.” he managed to say, catching on his tongue. There was a pause, as Loki’s stare searched yours. “Is it really so hard to believe?” you said, cupping his jaw. “That I love you?” Loki nodded once, his gaze lowered, lashes spread in a perfect fan against his skin.

“Why?” you whispered, knowing the answer. But it seemed important that he say it. He swallowed.

“You must understand I have never been most people’s favourite person. In this realm or any other. ” he said bitterly, avoiding your eyes as he twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Anyone’s favourite person, in truth. To be loved. It is rather a strange concept to me.” His eyeline staggered upwards, reluctantly meeting your gaze. “But I am trying.” “I know. I’m sorry about all the red stuff – the dress was an accident but the bra and the g-string I didn’t know-” Loki’s finger pressed to your lips. “Do not apologise.” he murmured. “Just promise me that you shall not lie with him when you tire of me.” You couldn’t help the gasp of laughter that erupted against his finger. “Tire of you?” you choked. “I don’t think that’s likely.” Loki raised an eyebrow, making your features straighten. “But I promise, I will not…” you wrinkled your nose, “...lie with Thor.” The god nodded regally, accepting your pledge. The tips of his cheekbones had flushed palest pink. “I love you.” you said softly, capturing his fingers as they brushed your collarbone. “I love you.” he replied with a shy smile. His voice was rich and warm, the tenor sinking into your soul like salve. “But it is more than that…” he added mysteriously, his tone deepening. You felt the familiar zing of arousal between your thighs, the eroticism of his power building in earnest. “I have burned for you, every cell of my being yearning uncontrollably since the moment you first cut me with that sharp tongue.” he murmured, sweeping hair from your neck. “It is a need, an obsession. And the obsession of a god is not easily swayed. I hope you are prepared for that.” His parted lips danced across your shoulder, as your hands slid beneath his armpits and between the muscled blades. “I could not bear to think that you would never be mine-” he growled, “not after all the times before, and never like this...never as-” “-Real.” you gasped, as he placed a gentle bite on the curve of your neck, a deep moan filling the space. “Real.” he echoed quietly, before placing a soothing kiss on the mark he had left. “I could not bear it.” His eyes met with yours, glassy with emotion. “I thought...that the only way to harvest the passion I desperately craved from you was-” “-by being an asshole?” you postured, raising your brows. Loki smiled sheepishly. “You gave as good as you got, darling.” he murmured, his hand beginning to toy with the zip of your dress. “Better, some might say.” you gasped, feeling the tug of your seams coming loose. “In your dreams, Agent.” Loki whispered, as your dress pooled around your ankles. “And besides…” he quipped, walking you backwards through the living room towards the king bed next door. “One cannot accuse us of being predictable.” “Perish the thought.” you said, as the back of your knees hit the firm mattress. Loki lowered his chin to his chest, the fire in his eyes that burned right before he fucked you smouldering with new intensity. “My love…” he hummed, possessively sliding his hands over your ass and squeezing. “My love.” you responded with a gasping groan, the curve of your lips cresting each vowel like a breaking wave. “Choose one.” he growled, a ragged moan vibrating in his chest as he slipped his hand inside your panties. “I must insist. For old times sake.”

Your eyes flickered to the row of mannequins just visible outside the door. “The b-biker…” you stammered, as Loki’s digits began to play lazily against your soaking slit. “Mmm” he hummed, knowingly. “I’m sure the garments for that particular ensemble isn’t the only thing you desire from it, my love?” My love. You would never tire of those words from his lips. You could feel heat rising in your cheeks as Loki’s suit trousers began to turn to scuffed black denim beneath your touch. The fingers digging into his back suddenly had a thin layer of fabric between his flesh and yours; the scent of old oil wafting from the cotton. Cool, heavy metal swung against your chest as he shoved you playfully back onto the bed, watching as a familiar vintage leather jacket unfurled over his torso. The god chuckled, seeing your legs widen as you drew your feet onto the mattress; sinking into the thick crispness of his duvet. He ran a hand through his hair, a trail of seidr rendering it wild. Your breath skipped as you saw the outline of the deep scar through his eyebrow form, ink flourishing on both sets of his knuckles. C.H.A.O.S. You shuddered, ass clenching. The crossed daggers flourished in all their glory over his heart, the edges faded as old tattoos do. Loki’s fingers toyed teasingly with the buckle of the studded belt, hanging sluttishly around his hips. “Do you want me to be a bad boy, Agent?” he growled, untamed hair falling in waves against his sharp cheekbones. “You’re always a bad boy.” you purred, making Loki wink before he cleared his throat. “Well, I better not disappoint then.” he postured, sinking into character as he lowered himself on top of you. The leather creaked against his biceps as he braced, the stretch making you clench as he descended on your mouth in a mess of teeth and tongue. You thrust upwards, the thin fabric of your wet gusset colliding with his belt buckle. Loki chuckled, scooping you upwards. He knelt on the bed, ass resting on his worn combat boots; shifting so only one of his denim-clad thighs sat between your spread legs. “Use me.” he rumbled, lowering his chin as he began to rock your hips back and forth. Friction made delicate skin sizzle as he set your pussy alight, every whimper met with enthusiastic sighs of pleasure and praise. “That’s it, darling…” he groaned as you grasped at his hard cock beneath the tight denim. Searching.

He was a mess of adulation, words unsaid for too long spilling from his lips with every flame of climax blossoming in your belly. “I’m for your pleasure, now.” he gasped, gyrating his hips as you rocked against his thigh. “Always...take it. Take i-it, my love. It’s y-yours. I’m..f-fuck, I’m yours.” Your nails dug into the leather covering his shoulders, marking the soft material as you came undone against him. “Loki...y-yes..uhhh” you moaned into his open mouth as he gazed up at you, rough ebony curls thrown back. One of your hands fell to his chest, catching on the loop of the pendant hanging against his heart. The slicing angle of Loki’s jaw was poised, lips parted. His eyes were wide, brow creased as you came with a grateful cry of his name. He continued to guide your hips back and forth while your grip tightened and then relaxed. You burrowed your face in the curve of his neck, noting the musk of Croatian alcohol and smoky bars that still clung there. “I do so love watching you cum…” he murmured shyly, as you began to pull wantonly at his belt buckle. “Well I love watching you cum” you said, pressing your lips together in a coy smile. “So I guess that works out, doesn’t it?” Loki’s hand ran through your hair, tugging your head back before he placed a messy suck to the pulse point. “Mine.” he growled breathily, as your fingers raced to undo his belt. “Leave it…” he muttered, making your hands fly to his leather jacket, forcing it roughly over his shoulders. It fell to the floor with a soft thud, the low thump of his combat boots hitting the floorboards making your whole body shiver. He shuffled backwards, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Are you ready, love?” he muttered seductively. You nodded, your feral desire barely contained as you bounced on your knees. Instinctively your fingers rubbed his violently hard cock through the rough denim, feeling for metal. The god hissed as your fingers caught against the tip. "Oh, it's there." Loki purred knowingly, whipping the belt from its holster and slowly rolling down the zip. You licked your lips, seeing the majesty of his pierced cock bob into view. Wordlessly you leant forwards, sucking the moist head of his manhood against your tongue with a calculated swirl. You tugged the silver barbell, flicking. Loki whimpered, steadying himself against the bedpost. “F-fuckk, darling…” he gasped quietly. “I shall n-never be prepared for that.”

The metal balls of his piecing were cool against the heat of your mouth, rolling them against your searching tongue as he groaned above you. A metallic taste rose against the warmth of his sweetness, the god's musk swirling intoxicatingly against the sharp tang of steel. Saliva leaked out the sides of the join, letting it coat his cock as you slid back and forth, sucking gently. Your lips tightened, the stroke of your hand against his thick, slippery shaft making his hips jolt. “Won’t l-last l-long…gods-” he rasped, gently winding the hand not steadying him into your hair.

Your own whoreish moans burned deep in your eardrums, mouth stuffed with his girth as you felt him begin to tremble. “D-don’t stop…” he panted, as you increased your pace. “Do you w-want me to cum in your...fuckkk-your mouth, p-precious one?” Loki stammered with difficulty, his breath catching as his hips began to tremble. You groaned enthusiastically, vibrations making his balls tighten. You heard a low crack of wood, Loki’s grip making the wooden bedpost split beneath it. A thundering moan ripped from above, hot cum flooding your tongue; dripping down your throat as you swallowed against the tip of his thick cock.

You released him with a messy pop, tugging once more at the piercing while gazing up at the dishevelled god with pure love. His bliss-drunk eyes lazily searched your face, hovering on the slick of his delicious cum coating your lips. He licked his own. “We can do the rest later, don’t worry.” you cooed, sitting up on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Loki chuckled, delicate skin creasing at the corners of his eyes. “Ah! About that-” he smouldered, before falling forwards and pinning you beneath him on the bed. “Gods have a very short refractory period. I’m delighted to inform you that we can fuck endlessly, if that is your desire.” There was a mischievous glint in his eye as he watched your jaw drop.

“You mean all this time we could have done it twice?” “More than twice, darling.” he jibed, feigning offence. “But to be frank, typically the mood had been ruined by one of your mid-coital insults by that point.” “My insults?!” you huffed, feeling his cock growing hard again against your thigh. Loki kissed you deeply, making your back arch as you felt the tingle of his seidr evaporate the rest of his biker clothes. He slid a finger through your folds, moaning appreciatively. “Wet, warm...perfect.” he muttered, curls grazing against your cheeks. You felt the metal balls of his piercing on the wide tip nudge against your entrance, the coolness tingling against your heat. Twin moans filled the air as he squeezed himself past the tight opening, Loki’s eyes rolling back before they fluttered closed. He bottomed out with a low pant of pleasure, a final thrust of his hips making the metal spheres tug against your deepest walls. The metal stud fastened to Loki’s pubic mound pulled gently against your clit, every slow roll of his hips making you rock into him. “Loki...f-fuck, I’d f-forgotten-oh god..oh g-god.” you panted, as his knees widened on the bed. The base of his flat stomach was pressed to your own, the thick veins running along his biceps bulging as he thrust into you in mind-altering waves. “Let yourself go, my love...there is no limit anymore. Not with us.” he praised, as your fingertips sank into the taut muscle of his ass. Effortlessly, Loki raised himself from his forearms; angling his hips so only the tip of his cock remained inside your wet cunt. “Loki...please” you begged, squirming beneath him. He smirked, beginning to make small thrusts against your g-spot. Your head slid back against the pillow, back arching. “Fuck-Loki...y-yess oh-god.” It caressed the swollen spot inside you, tingling with the urge to burst while the piercing rubbed on either side. It was heaven. “Cum for me, lov-ve.” he murmured, his voice breaking on the final syllable. Your hands fell back against the pillows, fingers curling around the antique brass railings of his bed-frame. Loki growled through shallow pants, his large palms cupping the joint of your hips as he guided you back and forth on his mighty cock. “C-come in me, Loki…” you whined, chin pointed to the ceiling as every muscle in your body screamed for release. "Own me, you fucking own me."

You were a writhing mess of pure sex, every swing of his hair; every harsh exhale of air from his throat a primal cacophony of lust and love. Both of your moans grew louder, the slap of his balls against your skin driving you over the edge as he unravelled. There was a sudden rush, a burning thrill of flooding climax as Loki’s shallow pants of praise blossomed to a thundering roar. The groan of his name from your throat was primal; threatening to shake his books from their shelves.

The god's breaths slowed, melting against you in a wet kiss before rolling to the side. His head hit the pillow with a muted thump. “Have I ever told you, that your the best fuck I’ve ever had?” he panted. “No, I don’t think you mentioned it.” you quipped, resting your chin on his heaving chest. “That would be too complimentary, you were too busy trying to make my life hell.” Loki rolled his eyes with a smirk, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “As I said on our first tryst, darling...indifference is the true insult.” He squeezed you tighter, before the amused smile faded. “There is one more past outfit I must show you.” he said tentatively, before frowning. “Return to you, actually.”

You sat up, propped on your elbows. “Oh?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow. “Although I have made one notable alteration.” he added, raising a hand and waving it gracefully in the air. A bright shimmer appeared at the foot of the bed, rolling downwards to reveal silken fabric fluttering suspended in the air. “Oh my god…” you whispered, eyes wide. The red dress that Loki had ripped with his hands and teeth from your body while he fucked you to oblivion in a jealous rage the night of the shareholder’s party swayed in front of you. Loki flicked his fingers, making it dance in the air.

It was immaculate, even by his standards of repair. Except now, it was a rich emerald green. “Loki-” you started, feeling a lump in your throat. Gently, his fingers tipped your chin to face him. “You have made me a better man, Agent.” he said slowly, enunciating every word. “Are you sure about that? I’m not sure Clint would agree. Or Amanda, actually.” you smirked, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “And enough with the ‘Agent’, you know how much it annoys me.” Loki laughed softly, sighing as he stretched his naked legs across the sheets. “Ah, so you heard about Barton.”

You let your eyes wander up his endless limbs, admiring the curve and dip of each perfectly carved muscle. “He put in a complaint with Tony.” you said, making Loki nodded sagely, lips pursed. The fact that Tony had, of course, told everyone, did not need to be stated to be understood. There was a pause. "And by the way, where is Thor getting a spare two million from to pay for you?" Loki smirked, rolling towards you with a fist propped innocently beneath his temple. "He's been putting off offers for a raunchy photoshoot with a well-known underwear brand for years, darling. I wouldn't worry." "Sorry, what was that you were saying about being a better man?" you goaded, holding back a laugh. “Well, our misplaced animosity may not have been the smoothest path to encouraging a reformation of my admittedly devilish character-” Loki said thoughtfully, nestling his nose against the tip of your cheekbone. “-but your love might.” You swung a leg over his hips, enjoying the exaggerated oof he released as you settled your core to his stomach. Your palm cupped his face, smoothing the silk of his jaw with your thumb. Loki tilted his head, raven curls a mess of tangles against the white pillowcase. “You’ll still always manage to irritate me, you know.” you said, as a smile played at Loki’s lips. "Just because I love you, doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you." In a flash, Loki had you on your back, giggling beneath him as the warm comfort of his solid frame pressed to yours. “Likewise, my love-' he sighed happily against your sex mussed hair. He placed a firm kiss on your temple, thumb pushing back strands of damp hair from your forehead. “-And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A/N - Thank you SO SO MUCH for coming with me on this journey. What started with a humble slutty wetsuit has blossomed into our beloved arsey, impossible Loki and stubborn Agent and I hope you're as happy with this ending as I am :) There will be a lil Epilogue (coming soon) Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @wheredafandomat @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @123forgottherest @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 @goddessofwonderland @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman

Darling.

Loki x reader — sick!fic, established relantionship.

No warnings, just fluff and comfort.

Loki takes care of you when you're sick and makes sure you feel better. He's really soft.

“I feel disgusting,” you say. The words coming out slurred as you struggled to breathe with your congested nose.

“Darling?” Loki asks, concerned. “Can I do anything to help?”

You don't want him to see you like this, in fact, you've been trying to ignore your sickness for a long time. 

You feel useless, you don't want to exist, the only acceptable thing to your mind is the thought of going to sleep, the aching pressure around your eyes begs to be closed. You're almost crying from shame.

“Darling,” Loki reaches around you, embracing his arms around your figure, even as you protest, he lifts you up in his arms. “You can't work like this. I know you're sick.” He watches your puffy face, all due to your crying and sneezing.

“No, I'm not, I'm okay,” your voice rough as you lie, fighting not to cough with your pained throat. “I'm not sick, I can do things just fine.” 

He still keeps you there, now making sure your face rests against his shoulder as he takes you to the kitchen, already preparing some tea for you two.

“Have you taken some medicine?” He asks and you keep your face hidden, ignoring the question. “You didn't?

“Don't be mad…” You begin.

“Why would I be mad, darling? Why would you not take your meds?”

“I don't wanna be sick, and I didn't know which ones to take, I took a pill but it didn't have any effect so I thought I'd just wait some more.” You're scared you'll sound pathetic to that, but Loki only rubs your back gently. 

Loki could sense the effort it took for you to talk, he keeps a concerned look on you as you only rest further to his chest. 

This is better, he thinks. She's accepting my help. My love.

Loki had a secret under his sleeve that could work, he could apply his healing magic to your tea — the magic his mother would give to both him and Thor when they got sick, on their younger days, the spell she taught him.

He remembers those days with nostalgic care, he keeps them in the depths of his heart for when his mind needs some kind memories, these parts are specially occupied with you, now. He misses his mother, but he can express the love he received in a new way.

You're shivering under his hands, so he conjures your fluffy, heavy blanket for you, covering you till your neck. 

He makes a mental reminder to prepare a warm bath as it's early in the evening, it'd help you feel better, and then he'd make sure you wear some warm clothes so you don't get any fevers.

“Love?” He asks you, your eyes are fighting to stay open but they're moist with tears from the cold. 

“Can't breathe,” you whine a bit in pain, closing your eyes and trying to rest but feeling the strong pang in your head.

“I'll make it feel better, love. I'm here,” He tells you, giving you a kiss. He was glad your temperature was normal as he felt it against his skin.

You cringe as his lips touch yours. “Don't kiss me… I'm gross,” your voice goes whinier than you wish for again, which he finds adorable.

“You can't pass me anything, my love. I'm a frost giant, I wouldn't get sick with mortal germs.” He gives you a kiss again.

“But I'm still gross though.”

“I could never find you anything close to gross, when I see you like this, I only wish to nurture you back to health, and make sure you're safe and loved, just as you deserve.” You try to hide your smile against his chest now, he can feel it, and it makes him beam with pride at making you feel a little better. “I hate to see you unwell.”

The tea is ready, he turns your body a little in his arms so you're facing the teapot as he makes two cups for both of you.

He makes sure you see the green sparkles leaving his hands as he puts your tea.

“I hope I'm making this right,” he blushes. “It's the spell our mother would pour on our teas when we were children, Thor thought it was disgusting.”

“Very good, really,” you joke around, smiling at him. “One of the few opinions I have, and little Thor thought it was disgusting.”

Loki gives you a tight lipped smile, but still smiles with his eyes too. He shakes his head.

“I think the magic is flavorless, the problem was just that Thor never really liked tea, and we just discovered a long time after,” he smiles at you. “So, my love, as I know you like this tea, I make sure everything is safe and good to your tastes.” He chuckles and you feel his chest move with the sound.

So you stay there, in his arms, watching his magic with a certain wonder, you'd never tire from this, he always loves the way you look at his magic, the way you look at him. It was never about the magic powers he carries, but the way you're the only person to look at him while he does it and appreciate him, just him, you like it when he does anything, you're the only one to look at him with this clear admiration your eyes always hold for him.

He quietly begins to hum a song for your ears, carrying you to the couch.

You move to take the tea and drink it. 

Loki touches your temple, he makes his fingers blue and —consequently, a little colder, just enough for your body to accept, reaching your forehead and keeping it there as you sip your tea.

He notices you're going quieter, just appreciating his acts, not really forcing yourself to speak anymore. He's glad, it makes him happy to see your body sliding slightly closer to him with each sip, probably almost too sleepy to notice. 

He conjures you the correct medicine, and you take it. With him kissing your forehead as you do so, like a little reward.

“I'd never shame you for being sick, you know,” He says, breaking the silence of the room. “I never want to see you feeling like you can't tell me again, even as your body starts to feel weak, even if the symptoms are just starting, tell me.”

“I will. I'm sorry.”

“I'm not mad,” he reinforces, quickly booping your nose, gently smiling at you. You stay quiet, he accepts that.

“How about a bath now?” The tea was warm like a balm to your throat.

You don't respond but complain with sounds of disapproval at having to move from the comfort of the couch, from under the cozy blanket.

“You'll feel better,” he comforts you, caressing your skin as he speaks in a low tone so as not to hurt your head. “I promise, just trust me.” 

He wraps his strong arms around your legs to push your entire body close to his, gluing you to him as he calmly princess-carries you to the bathroom. Patiently taking the time to hold you as he magically —to be quicker— makes the water warm enough for you and your tired body.

He helps you through the bath, bringing some things to make the bath time more relaxing like different soaps and a pink bath bomb.

“Bath bomb?” You laugh a little, glad the stinging in your head stopped a bit. You point to the product he held.

“It's fun, and I'm not used to these midgardian bath entertainments.” He gives you a kind smile and allows the comfort to surround you two as you take the bath together. 

He carefully washes your hair for you, massaging your scalp, hoping to show all his love through his fingertips and gentle caresses.

He moves down to your shoulders, your neck, pressing a bit harder in certain spots, then he slides down to your back with tender care. You hold your breath, and leave some moans of delight as your aching body feels the blessed touch.

“Are you feeling better, love?” He asks, you hum to agree, not wanting to ruin the moment. He muffles a laugh and keeps his loving touches.

Loki runs his hands across the other parts of your body with extra patience and passion, ignoring how sexual it could seem, he knows you're not wishing for it now. He still keeps a longer time washing you, and pressing his hands on your breasts, your chest, your stomach. Brushing among your thighs, anywhere he could show his love and feel your skin close to his.

He kisses your jawline, and moves your head a little to kiss you. The whole time was filled with loving little kisses, some all across your face, some on your lips as he couldn't have enough of your mouth, or enough of you.

The bath makes you feel clean and relaxed, you're allowing yourself to finally succumb to the peaceful affection he's showing you. It's almost overwhelming, you never thought you could have something like this, neither did he.

When the bath's over, Loki exits first to grab a fluffy, dry towel to wrap your body on. You got up and he immediately wrapped you in so you wouldn't face the brutal chilly air of getting out of the bath.

He takes you to the bedroom, your clothes are already on the bed. You tremble to think of removing the towel and facing the cold, but Loki makes sure that doesn't happen.

He puts you on a cozy green sweater, kissing your clothed chest as he's finished. Matching the sweater, he puts on you some warm pajama pants, then proceeds to kiss your stomach. 

He puts your socks on you, and gives a kiss to each of your ankles, almost reverently. Looking up at you with wonder, rubbing your legs. You almost weep at the sight, feeling overly emotional. 

After he's sure you're warm, he lets you decide on what to do next. You just want to sleep.

He turns off the lights of the house, and dims the one by the bedside table. He reaches for his book, this is one he's been reading without you, he thinks it's a bit too uninteresting to be shared, but now it might fit perfectly for the purpose of getting you to sleep.

You two created a habit of sharing your stories together, you love to sit around while he just reads for you. And whenever you read a story you really like, you get extra giddy to tell him every single detail about it, he loves it when you do so.

He knows how much you love his voice, and in moments like this, in which you need less loud noises, you can't help but pay even more attention to how soft his voice is as he speaks. You could listen to it for days, and thankfully, you can really listen to it all day, for days, he's yours.

He cozies you two under the sheets, the only light being the one by his side, so he can read to you, he makes sure it doesn't bother your eyes.

He holds your body on top of his, keeping a light hold not to pressure your skin, allowing you to rest your head on his neck, unbothered by the little sniffles of the remains of your sickness. He'll make sure to check some more spells later —unharming to humans, to be certain you get even better health soon after you drift off to sleep.

“I love you,” you say. He stiffens a little because it comes unexpectedly, then he relaxes. After all this time, Loki's still unused to these words.

He still gets surprised.

His expression softens and he can only hope you feel all the love radiating off of him.

“I love you, darling. Now rest, you'll feel better as soon as you wake up.” 

He begins reading to you from where he stopped, taking pauses a few times to explain some details to you, quietly. You pay attention to the sound of his voice, and his chest moving under you with each word he speaks, until you drift off to a comfortable night of sleep.

This is my apology for not having posted anything this week because I, once again, got sick, so I wrote this! Oh to have a Loki taking care of me.

I hope it can bring some comfort to you all!

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101 (I don't know if it's ok to tag in a sick!fic but it's ok if you don't feel comfortable with it ♡)

My Heart

Soft!dark Loki x Reader. (Ghostface!Loki)

Loki is your special guide on an acting play in Asgard. How will it turn out? It will certainly be a Scream!

(Scream-inspired, ghostface!Loki, he's a bit obsessive too, who could have guessed?)

Warnings: this fic is exclusively explicit +18, a lot of blood, Dom!Loki, angst (at least reader cries a lot), stalking, Loki is a bit mean at times, blood kink, murder, psychological horror, possessive Loki, obsessive Loki, dark!Loki, scared reader. Be safe! ;)

You were fixing your hair and taking a look at the fancy dressing options for the official play, taking place in the center of Asgard, a place properly dedicated for cultural artistic exposition.

A bunch of the most famous actors throughout all of Asgard were coming to interpret roles in the huge theater near the castle, as an official tradition. Asgard is often envied in the matter of culture and in their specific field of acting art.

You've never felt more treasured, it surely felt gifting to be able to experience such an unique phenomenon, to be invited to such a thing.

And you're human. It feels a whole lot to you.

Far away from your home on Earth.

As much as it bothered you, you had to keep your mind off the annoying sting in your chest. You came here for an honorable reason, to represent as a Midgardian diplomat, settled by Thor to help him with his rules and studies for Asgard and the other realms, as he already knew you, he thought you to be the perfect fit. You don't want to disappoint.

But this loneliness is unlike any other, you can't help but wonder how your family and friends are doing, at home. You could fully say with conviction that the only friend you have is the godly Avenger that swore to protect you through your journey out of your original realm.

You were okay with it, until you had to get down and face the real world. You wore the very detailed white royal dress that most appealed to your eyes, and went downstairs to meet with the known blond just waiting for your presence, awkwardly messing with his…formal, hero cape.

He says your name with hesitance, “I'm so sorry, my friend. I truly am, I won't be able to attend the event,” he expresses, you frown and press your hand to your heart.

“What? You're the only friend I have here, am I supposed to go alone?” You're quick to ask.

“You can go with Loki,” he mentions the dark prince, you blink.

Loki wasn't a bad man to you, from what you've known of him, you're not a judgemental person, you don't like going for other people's words. But he's known on Earth for being a murderer, you watched the news, even though you weren't present during the attack you still could feel the pain that all those victims went through. It felt like you're betraying them, like you're hurting them by thinking of befriending the god.

However, since you've shown up on Asgard, Loki has been nothing but amicable to you. You just hesitated considering him a friend, whatsoever, he's a person you've —unfortunately — come to admire.

Whenever he passes by your sight is attached to him, as if you've been hypnotized, he's charming, pleasing to be around, your sense of humor matches a lot from what you've had the pleasure of discovering of him.

“Loki?” You repeat, letting the name echo through the walls of the castle. You're momentaneously afraid you've summoned him with the name.

“Yes, he's not too bad,” Thor looks a bit embarrassed of having to state so. “He's kind when you spend time with him, I know he'll treat you well. And if there's one thing my brother loves more than anything, is the events that involve acting around here. You have to see just how bright his eyes sparkle when he watches the plays, and this one in particular is one of his favorites. We used to watch it with father when we were younger.” 

You were now enchanted by Thor's description, your eyes shining at the idea of having someone acknowledged to teach you more of something you already enjoy so much, you're also a huge fan of acting, and theatrical acting was a hidden passion you've always adored. 

The thought of Loki liking this so much excites you, because you love surrounding yourself with enthusiastic people, you love seeing them being passionate about what they love. You thought it wouldn't be so bad to have a guide, it is definitely a better option than to go just by yourself, or to refuse and stay in bed for the day.

“Well…” You think for a second, looking around then coming back to Thor. “I don't see why not.” You shrug your shoulders, the blond god gives you a bright smile and says he'll catch him for you.

You wait at the entrance, looking all like a real princess waiting for her prince to take her to a royal ball. 

“This is too fancy for me,” you look down at yourself, somehow feeling a sense of imposter syndrome. Feeling unbelonging, too human for this, it's way more than you could ever dream of. “I shouldn't be here.” 

“Now, why would you say such a thing?” A low soft voice asks you from nowhere, you jolt as you turn quickly, recognizing the owner of the voice.

Loki gulps as he shares eye contact with you, glancing down at your pretty dress, you take a moment to appreciate his beautiful princely outfit, black and green, with tiny golden sparkling details. His body seemingly just fit for the measures of the clothes, you think you've lost your breath for a second. 

He smirks as he catches you staring.

“Princess?” Your heart flutters a little, you swear your legs feel a bit shaky from the endearment. 

“I'm not a princess,” you hurry to correct, your cheeks heating up against your will.

“You look just like one. You can be a princess, and if you don't like it, you have the experience for the night.” He offers his hand to you with a charming smile.

“No one would believe I'm a princess, prince Loki.” You challenge him.

“They will if I treat you like one,” he licks his lips and his eyes give you such softness you could melt again. Another pang, the betrayal, the attack on Earth.

You're the one to gulp nervously now, taking your eyes off of him and looking to the road ahead.

“You don't need to, it's fine,” and you quickly hurry to change the subject before he can protest. “Shall we go? Otherwise we'll miss the time. Nobody likes being late.”

★

You and Loki arrive at the festival together, getting off the carriage, he offers his hand again when you're exiting, like a true gentleman.

There's a lot of drinking, dancing, and singing. The theater is still empty waiting for the actors to arrive. Your excitement is likely palpable, Loki could swear he feels it radiating off of you. 

“It's okay, princess,” he says loud enough for others to hear, placing his arms around you. You blush but refuse to protest, he gives you a knowing look and a mischievous smile. “We can have our fun before the show. Let me show you around all the cultural Asgardian beauty.”

They had a lot of variable types of drinks, a lot of dancing presentations for people to watch, and the singers had the most amazing intonations that your ears could be blessed to hear. You couldn't believe how lucky you were, to be able to humanely get in touch with the art from the gods themselves.

The harp brought an etheric touch to all the singing, the harsh intoning of the words whilst they sung something in their native languages, deep voices to match their godly vocal chords. Be it from the realm they were, your heart clenched in delight from all the admiring.

Loki was an impeccable guide, showing you some popular dishes, giving you the most delectable desserts, and watching the performances with you. Thor was right, you could see the special touch he had with art, it was as if he forgot everything else around him when he got close to it. 

“This play will be my favorite,” he musters and you stop to listen, carefully. His voice is low but the smile he's wearing really makes you interested in what he has to say. It's like a secret you're two are sharing.

“What's the name of the play?” You couldn't believe Thor hadn't told you this before, you felt a bit ignorant towards the conversation. Loki puts his hands on your back again to calm your nerves down.

“The Masquerade,” he almost whispers. Like a real secret, almost as if he could read you.

“Oooh,” you teasingly express. “The Masquerade, such an interesting name, will they wear the masks?” For a second you feel dumb to ask, Loki only laughs a little and rubs your back to comfort you.

“Yes, yes, they will. I truly hope you find it as beautiful as I do.” His eyes sparkle with a sprinkle of mischief among the kindness. 

“I probably will,” you say more to yourself than to him. If he thinks it's beautiful, there's one more reason for you to like it, there's a special key to the piece, they caught someone's love before you've met it. “What's it about, anyways?”

He looks down at you due to the height difference and brings his gaze back to your eyes, deep piercing blue staring right into you, you feel a bit sick from the closeness. 

“It's…uhh,” he pauses, a bit sheepish, you never thought you'd see the infamous, 'evil' god of mischief looking embarrassed to talk about something he loves. He clears his throat. “It talks about several people meeting at a Masquerade ball, one of them, the leader, —who is the murderer, but it's a fact unknown to the characters of the play— wears a mask that resembles the face of a comical ghost, it may sound a bit silly, but it's really symbolic. It has the horror of course, putting the thrill aside.” He still blushes to say.

He continues.

“The thrill of having to discover who is responsible for the murders whilst everyone worries because their lives are at risk, you don't know which ones you trust, there's just…something about it that makes me terrified, I think that's why I'm so invested in the story.” He manages to explain to you. “But I really like it, I've even read the scripts before, a few times. I had the pleasure of reading the original one when it was created.”

Your eyes widen as he says it all. “I love these kinds of things! The mystery!” You exclaim. “I love it, and we'll get to see who's actually the murderer at the end, right? Sometimes I tend to get my intuitions wrong,” you joke.

He chuckles, a bit surprised. “Yes, of course. Where would be the fun if we never get to know who did it all?”

“And you're quite old, huh?” You give a teasing smile, he shakes his head, smiling too. “You know so many things from so many years ago.”

“Don't let this disappoint you, I hope.” There's a glint and the softness he always presents to you. You feel queasy, you feel happy. “Your mortality is not an issue here.”

As the festival went on, even the Warriors did their own little stunt to occupy the time, but the actors never arrived. You were starting to get a bit restless, you wanted to watch the show and you feared you wouldn't get to see what Loki so lovingly shared with you.

Everybody gave out a gasp of exasperation when all the lights of the event were turned off. People immediately sighed a bothered "blackout", but even the candles were blown off, leaving everyone in a sea of darkness swallowing all the excitement there was before.

“We can't enjoy the event without lights!” One of the warriors complained, you couldn't quite remember his name.

“Why can't I light the candle? The fire just doesn't lit,” someone complained loudly. “Where is a God of Fire when you need one?”

“I bet that's all because Thor's not here!”

You turn your head around the annoyed complaints of the people, listening to them all in confusion. Loki made sure to appease everyone telling us that we should all stay calm, that the problem will probably be solved soon.

“How could we know? We can't trust this snake!” Someone screamed, pointing at Loki.

“I'm the prince, and I was raised to rule,” Loki had a stern expression as he spoke. “Whether you like it or not, it's true. As Thor is gone for now, I will listen to all the complaints you have.”

“I bet he did it on purpose!” An old Asgardian lady yelled behind the crowd.

“Why would I? I have nothing to gain from this, it's just more of a headache for me,” he said annoyed now, he probably couldn't handle accusations when all he was trying to do is enjoy something he loves.

“He wanted to watch the show like everybody else,” you awkwardly meek the words out, you felt ashamed as soon as they came out and the people looked at you.

“This trickster has watched the same play a thousand times!” Someone gestured rudely with their hands. “He knows every detail probably, he's not doing anything for us.”

“Silence!” Loki orders, “I will not tolerate insolence! You wish to complain, you do so, but meanwhile, I'll put my best efforts to fix the issue.”

You thought the blackout was going to last for maybe a few minutes, but after a while with each sound of nature echoing throughout the open space, you questioned if you're wrong after all. Why was everyone still in the dark? The complaints were now too loud for your ears.

And the worst part is that you've lost sight of Loki. You remind yourself of some old men pulling him by his sleeves, you try to remember what the men's faces looked like, but it remains unsuccessful.

Your heart is quaking with anxiety, he was your only access to hanging out around Asgard, without Thor around or his trusted brother, you feel completely at loss. 

Furiously looking around the place to check if there's anything you can find, whilst others are starting to grab their things to go away.

A sudden light hits the entire circle, a brighter light stinging the people's sight and coming from the theater stage. You hiss and move your gaze, trying to fathom what it's going on.

“The actors are never going to come.” Says a terrified man among the crowd, he's gasping as he looks at the empty stage. What does he mean by that? “Where's the King?! Where's Thor?!”

“We have to run!” An old lady screams, bumping your shoulders as she runs in the opposite direction, grabbing all her stuff. You're still confused but you recompose yourself and immediately try to go somewhere darker.

You scramble through your mind to think of where Loki may be at, you don't want to imagine him suffering with any possible attacks. And your eyes fickle to the golden castle sticking close to the theater area. 

You imagine that's the place where they might've taken Loki to, so you run there, readying yourself to the presence of an unquiet Loki, or maybe a tired, questioning Thor, wondering what all the fuss is about, both the princes immediately trying to solve the problems. You'd run and embrace yourself in the feeling of safety around their presence.

Instead of that, the castle was all empty, you knitted your eyebrows as your skin shivered from the cold you felt in the air. The golden castle has never been so cold, and it seems all the lights have gone out here too.

You're alone. There are no palace staff even, no cooks, no nurses, the princes are nowhere in sight. Alone. And it frightens you, you feel the loneliness ripping your bones as you wonder if staying with the angry mob would be a greater idea than trying to come to the castle.

You hear a ringing way too loud for the quiet atmosphere, you recognize the sound of your cell phone ringing. You run to where your temporary room is, and grab the vibrating phone in your hands. 

You're puzzled, it's odd. It isn't supposed to function, it never does. Who would want to call you when you're so far from Earth? 

Nobody here has a phone connection, so why does it work? Could it be someone from Earth calling you?

You'd probably ask Thor about this later, but you see the number is unknown. You ask yourself if it's possible for the marketing programs to call you even from another realm of distance. You muffle a small laugh as your mental joke eases your nerves.

You hesitantly accept the call, feeling curious.

“Hello?! Is anybody there??!” The raspy male voice questions frantically, it seemed almost robotic, sounding like they're out of breath, you can hear a tiny sob coming from the other line.

“Y-yes, who is it?” You shiver as you listen to your own voice ringing in the closed room.

“Please! Please help me!” The weird voice pleads you. “Please, I found this device out in the blackout, I don't know where I am. But I have you. Please help me.”

You try to shush him calmly. But you're scared as you're still alone, and the voice calling you sounds male but unrecognizable. 

“Look I'm sorry, I'm not a person you should be calling right now, I'm really lost too.” You try to explain peacefully, your chest aching from feeling useless. “Please, forgive me,” You hang up.

Seconds later as you ready yourself to leave, organizing all the important stuff, there's the ringing again. You groan loudly and answer the call.

“Hello?!”

“Are you alone?” He asks, giving another sob through the line. “I'm sorry if you are, I just feel uneasy.”

“I'm packing my things to go face an angry mob of people. Why did you call me back? I told you I can't help you.”

“You'd rather face some angry people than help me?” He asks, quite stressed, all of a sudden sounding a bit angry. Your body stills on the spot.

“I don't know who you are!” He sighs as he hears you.

“That's fair.” A silence rings. You sigh and hang up again.

As you walk out the room, the phone rings again.

“I was testing you, I know a woman that's alone shouldn't come around to help people they don't know, you're really smart.”

“Is it you again?” You ask out of patience.

“What are you doing now?” He sounds more curious.

“I told you, I'm packing my things.”

“Why are you lying to me?” You freeze.

“...Excuse me?” You look around and check if there's anyone that saw you leave your room. “Also, wait. How do you know I'm alone? I never told you I was…”

“Were you on the play?” He changes subject.

“I-uhm…Yeah, I was. I wanted to watch it- yeah. Now answer my question!” You respond feeling incredibly uneasy.

“I was there too. Are you also human?”

“Me? Yes, I'm the Midgardian. You're from Earth?” You walk and get giddier on the call, someone from Earth in Asgard would bring you more familiarity. For a minute you forgot your question remained unanswered. 

“Was just curious. Thor likes you a lot. He speaks a lot about you.”

“Thor? Yeah, he's my friend...” You wonder why the stranger is bringing him to the topic.

“I think I found a light, will you stick on the line until I reach it?”

“Sure thing.” You don't know why, though you don't see anything wrong with waiting. Your every move is still shaky from fear.

“You never told me your name.” He says suggestively, you hurry down the stairs and breathe out the next words.

“Why do you wanna know my name?” 

“Because I want to know who I'm looking at.” A shiver runs down your spine. Like a whiplash, you feel observed as you search your surroundings.

“...What?”

“I wanna know who I'm talking to.”

“That's not what you said.”

“What do you think I've said?” He asks, feigning confusion. 

You rush to the entrance only to notice the doors are locked, your hands shaking as you knock the door repeatedly to call attention from the outsiders. You're sure the stranger heard you banging the door through the call. Shit.

You don't say anything as you hang up this time. You try to compose your breathing, the phone rings once again but you don't move to accept the call.

“Someone!! Help me!” You loudly call, waiting for a response, a sign, anything. The dark was even scarier after the call you received, the cold all too threatening, like a bunch of invisible eyes looking under your skin.

After some moments of silence passing through your weeping eyes, you're fighting to keep the sobs hidden by putting your hand to your mouth to muffle the noise.

You kneel down, body glued to the door, holding it for dear life, your heartbeat a bit too loud for your eardrums. You're hugging your knees in a position of defeat as your body trembles with each sob.

You're wondering if the Asgardians had evacuated the castle and forgotten about you. You wondered if Loki forgot about you.

Your phone rings.

“Don't you hang up on me again or I'll make sure you're the first one to get killed.” Your sobs get even louder. “I'll gut you like a fish and feed your organs to the wolves!”

“What are you doing?! Who are you?!” You ask, clenching your fist to your chest. The rough voice from the other line chuckling from your questions.

“Does it matter, sweetheart? You want out, don't you? Poor thing, locked alone in the castle…”

“Please…don't hurt me…”

“You've told me once you like scary stuff, thrillers.” You fight not to hyperventilate. “Let's try some method acting, shall we?”

“No…no I don't. I don't like this shit.” You grit your teeth.

“You do, sweetheart. Don't lie to me. Don't you want to join my play? I planned it just for us, I thought you wanted to watch it. I can make you a star.”

“What?! No…” You cry.

The door opens out of a sudden and your body falls to the dirty earthy ground. You leave a groan, when your head lifts you're surprised by the dark that's out in the wild, the only light being the stars above your head and the vast bright moon occupying the sky.

You lift yourself with trembling knees and hear a voice coming from the phone. 

“If you ignore me one more time I'll fucking cut your neck off, you stupid little bitch!” The person threatens and you visibly recoil, throwing the phone very far away, ignoring his instructions and running for dear life.

Panting on your way through the golden speckled Asgardian trail out of the castle, darkened by the lack of lightning that you find in the way, you breathe as best as you can, ignoring the fear clutching your heart and the tears pricking your eyes, face puffy and your nose beginning to stuff.

“Damn it,” you tremble and fall in your steps. Sobbing to the air. “Shit, shit…” You curse to the skies as you try to regain your steadiness.

You start listening to a noise behind you, shuffling the bushes and startling you even more. When you pay attention, there are a pair of black boots making their way out of the bushes, right to your direction. A cloak covers down their ankles while your eyes widen. 

You don't stay behind to care for whom it may be, nor wait to check their face, and you keep running.

You're startled as a man comes to your line of vision, screaming, frantic. You tremble and end up falling backwards on the ground, he falls on top of you. Your hands are punching him to move off of you but he seemed just as frightened as you were.

He also noticed your punches were much weaker than the touches the gods carry. The strength they have. He supposed you were a human.

“Oh thank the Lord!” He praises God, and your face is entirely a mix of fear and anxiety, the tears making it very uncomfortable to keep your eyes open. “Thank the Heavens, you have to save me!”

“No!” You scream, pushing him away. A human. He doesn't fool you, he's the damn murderer that's been stalking you. You push his figure behind and he falls off his steps.

And then a knife craves his stomach, your eyes are wide and you're nauseated. The blood speckles to your terrified face. You can't help the scream that leaves you.

You quickly hurry to move up and keep on the run, suddenly someone grabs you by your neck, pulling your whole body up effortlessly, scaring all the breath out of your body.

You're pale as you realize the person is masked, wearing a ghost face mask and a cloak covering their entire body. The person from that was following you, the murderer.

“W-who…” You're fighting, clutching the gloved fingers holding you up and choking you by your pulse. “Who…I-I can't- breathe…” You say between resistant breaths.

“I told you not to ignore me, didn't I? I didn't think I'd need to repeat myself. You seemed like a pretty clever girl.” You recognized the voice from the phone.

“Please…”

“Don't beg, sweet. You're right where I want you to be.” He turns your body, clinging to you, pressing a knife near where his hand was, on your neck. This hand is now resting on your stomach. “I was waiting for this the whole night.”

“What?” You squirm around his grip, wanting to get out.

He clutches your face, forcing you to look at the stage. The one that was before empty, and now, is filled with decorations and blood stains. Your bile raised up to your throat.

Your eyes widened in fear and filled with terrified tears, you could barely hold your screech as you paid attention to the calculated amount of bodies on the floor of the stage.

You were now fully hitting him even though your limbs were being held tight, you still tried to escape.

“Don't be scared, princess.” A shiver runs through your skin, your whole face must be a mix of sweat and tears. It's like everything is turning in your head, dizzying you. Princess. 

Cruel joke. Must be a cruel coincidence, a cruel joke against you. You imagined the killer heard the nickname Loki called you, you could only hope Loki was coming to save you anytime. Maybe he knew how much you liked him.

“Don't be scared, we're only starting the show.” He carries your body up and takes you closer to the stage, all while you punch him as best as you can with full fists. He doesn't seem to be affected by your weak punching.

“Shh, now.” He calms you through your breakdown, shushing you and moving a piece of your hair that was sticking on your forehead due to your sweating. “Shh, you'll like this game, I promise.”

“Game?” You repeat with a gasp, mouth open in fright. “I don't wanna play anything, you freak! You monster!” You try to jump off his embrace but he's stronger and clutches his hold onto you with more strength. “Please, let me go…”

“Come on, princess.” He calls through your cries, placing you down on a throne-looking piece in front of the stage, when you touched it, it felt so…real. You wondered how anyone would be able to bring a real golden throne to this place, you wondered if it was like the one the Asgardian King has.

“A real throne for a princess.” You felt the goosebumps rise one more time, bringing your attention out of your senses, as you looked at the masked freak. “You can't get out of this.” He says and you notice you can't move your hands, you actively scream out, really scared at being unable to move.

“What are you doing?! Why?” You wonder, and he touches your face delicately, the ghost face giving you a cold feeling down your spine, your eyes bright with tears as you look up to him. 

He moves your face a bit, to get you to look at the stage instead of himself. 

“We're just going to play a game, my princess.” He softly says, as much as his raspy voice can muster. You start shaking your head in denial, frantically. 

“Please, no. You've had your fun, I promise I won't tell, please! Let me go!!” 

“You wanted to watch the play, we're going to do so. You just have to guess who's the one that's guilty. If you get it right, nothing happens, and you get a reward. If you get it wrong, we're going to have even more fun.”

“Why are you doing this?” He doesn't respond, he keeps his hands on your shoulders as you watch ahead.

The play starts, a terrified man tries to run you, but he's interrupted like there's a wall in the way. 

“Please, help me! I'm innocent, I need to go away.”

You try to move your hands but you can't. The Ghostface whispers in your ears. 

“Do you trust him, sweetheart? It's in your hands.” 

You shake your head and close your eyes, desperately trying to ignore the scene in front of you. More characters came into the scene.

“Don't worry about the actors, sweetheart,” his whispering was almost so soft for the fake covering voice, hidden behind the mask. “That man, the one that just screamed,” he points his knife to the man that's staring at him with big scared eyes. “He was wanted as a criminal, his reward was worth thousands of gold for arson, murder and sexual abuse.”

“S-so you don't think sexual abuse is correct?” You ask before even thinking, just feeling a wave of relief.

“What?” He sounds surprised for a second. “Why would I–? Oh, sweet? You thought I'd hurt you like this?” His voice sounded different at the moment he realized, like it really hit him somehow. “I'd never do this to you, there's no need to worry about that, I think it's the most disgusting of all crimes.” He says tilting the knife, you gulp not knowing what to do, but gratefully accepting the fact the killer had moral limits about this. At least.

“Pick one.” You realize you've barely paid attention to the play, to the actors moving.

“Please…” You keep on begging, maybe that'll help, but it gets him even more out of patience. “Please, I can't play with people's lives!” 

“You should know what you were getting into before coming here.” He gets closer to your face, you only wish your hands could work so you could pull his mask off to know who he is. “Come on, pick one.”

All the characters looked terrified, one wore a sillier mask of the Ghostface that was beside you, purposely seeming fake and cheaper. You start shaking, it'd be too obvious to pick the Ghostface that's acting, he's supposed to be the story's murderer. No one was actually killed during the act, they just pretended to kill.

“Do you think he did it?” The real killer asks beside you, almost sitting by your side close to your throne. He steps in front of you, steps clear and slow as his boots hit the ground, making you fixated on his every move. “You've been looking at him.” He takes something out of his cloak, and you almost can't believe it when he pulls out a gun and shoots the guy wearing the leader's mask.

“NO!” You scream loudly, hoping to reach his ears before he finishes the murderous act. 

A few more very loud shots were done, the stage was now shining with the stranger's dark red blood, and the actors were all shaking, shivering, on their best attempts at holding their cries, because they didn't want to be a part of it, they're afraid they'll be the next.

“This play is originally Midgardian,” he said, ignoring your cries. “Being written decades ago, only modern versions have this new weapon so the characters would be killed at a distance. I think it's practical for our current game.”

“NO, NO, NO, THAT'S HORRIBLE! STOP, STOP THIS, LET ME LEAVE! I DIDN'T PICK HIM, I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO DIE!” You scream and your whole body is shaking as you feel the guilt racking through your bones.

You feel his gloved hands caress your arms. 

“Sweet,” his strange voice keeps calling you. “Princess, please, look at me. Look at me,” His glove is tainted with dark blood, staining the rich dark black material. He tilts your chin up to make you look at his masked face. You feel even more afraid, the unfamiliarity and fear burning up your body. 

You can't stop crying, and your sobs are becoming louder and louder. 

“Look at me. It's okay, remember what I told you? He didn't deserve to live. He was supposed to go through the death penalty anyways.” You didn't know if you trusted his words. You were scared. Terrified. Shaking, and now feeling so guilty you couldn't even think about being saved. 

What if they put the blame on you? What about the disgust the princes will feel about you? You feel tainted, dirty, like you killed him yourself, with your bare hands.

You couldn't handle that, you didn't want to take the man's life. You couldn't stop looking at the blood, the smell of iron now clinging close to where you're stuck at.

“Please, let me go. You got what you wanted.” You try one more time.

“You think I got what I wanted?” His hands strongly hold your already immobile wrists. “Princess, I could do this anytime I wished, but I want you.” He says and you shiver even more. “I want you to be the star. My Queen. The one they admire, I want you to stay with me.”

“What? W-what do you mean by that?”

“Thor is not coming back.” He says almost too softly, nonchalant, apathetic, you want to throw up. You're feeling dizzy, there's a knot in your stomach and you don't know what to do. 

“What?! What? What??! Why? What have you done to him?! What about Loki?!” You cry and beg for answers.

He chuckles. The mask moving with each small laugh he lets out, you want to rip it off his face. This person you already hate so much.

“It's so sweet of you, it matches your nickname. Sweet, sweet, darling thing. It's so beautiful to know just how much you care about me.” He moves the mask off his face and you're unmoving, you go completely limp as you stare at the face you admired before, the tears wouldn't go away.

Were they correct this whole time? You've been considering a psychopath as your friend this whole time?

“L-Loki?” You hate how you stutter as you say his name, you hate to see him smile at that. You hate that you don't hate him, because your brain can't link the murders to him. Not him. “Loki, why?” 

“My father made me love this play, he taught me everything. I was here when it was created, Odin thought of the leaders like brave warriors, soldiers. The weaker ones got killed first but only he remained.” Loki's voice now sounded so suave to your ears, you imagined the strange one must have been granted through his magic and illusions.

“Such a beautiful story, sweetheart. It has so many layers, I can't wait for you to get involved in this artwork as much as I do.” His smile was so bright you felt nauseated, you couldn't even speak. “Look at the irony, look at it! The Norns must love me! Odin died first, he isn't here to present my thriving. I'm the only one that's left, the leader, the King, the ruler. I'm winning now, and the act is going on!”

He conjures a knife and presses it close to your neck, making you yelp and jump a little out of the chair. You're surprised you can move now, but he still grabs you forcefully and pulls you up to him. 

“I was the one that made Thor bring you here. I was paying attention to you for so long, it didn't take much convincing until the oaf agreed, he even befriended you. You have no idea how long I've had to wait with my nerves at bay.” His jealousy was visible as he spoke and you shook from his words.

“Look at them. The blood of the undeserving, the weak ones. We are above them, my princess. You and me. We can win this game. I'd never, ever, hurt you.” He says the last sentence with a seriously cold expression, you open your mouth and leave out a loud cry. His frown deepen.

“What's wrong? I thought you wanted to see how the play goes?”

“Not like this. Please…Loki…” You feel his hand reaching under the skin of your dress, pulling it up and moving to caress your thigh. You feel perverted as your eyes open and you look at the blood and the terrified faces among the stage.

You take the moment he's distracted to rush out of his grip, he's caught unexpectedly so his knife accidently cuts your shoulder, you grunt from the small wound. 

You turn to leave as quickly as you can, Loki chuckles to himself, thinking about how cute it is, that you think you can be quicker than him. That you're trying to escape, it's what a really smart princess would do, to be brave enough to try.

You pass through bushes, a weird unknown garden to you, wanting to find anyone else that was there before, anyone from the crowd that was running away, screaming loudly your pleas for help that no one hears. 

You look behind, not seeing him makes you even more uneasy. You can feel his presence near you, you don't know where he is. 

There's a particular downhill area you didn't see right in front of you, you accidently fall. Your legs failing you and hitting the ground from a long altitude distance, cutting your face and any naked skin you're letting out, your bones felt the fall and you curse how stupid you were not to pay attention.

Your skin is tainted with dirt, your face now on the ground. You think your foot is out of place as you groan out in pain, it hurts to move it. You can't believe you could ever be so stupid. Your dress is so painfully yellow after all the dirt.

You cry like a little kid.

You're surprised when your phone —the one you threw away — is right next to you, ringing and intact. Your face is so puffy from the fall, and because of all the crying, all the fear.

You move your arms and hold it close to your ears. “Hello?” Your voice trembles.

“I should have told you, you can't run away from me, darling.” Loki's voice echoes through your mind now, you almost feel it like a safety blanket covering your skin after the defeat, you don't know if you should accept the loss or not. Like a balm, a salve. 

He's the one that hangs up this time.

You feel a pair of arms holding you up with him, cozying you into his arms, so you can peacefully rest your head onto his chest, still covered by the dark cloak.

He pats your head, letting his hand softly caress your back as you lay in his arms, he's carrying you somewhere else.

You see the people now, the Asgardians, and the actors from before. So you quickly put your head back to Loki's chest again, wishing to hide away.

“I shouldn't have just thrown it on you like that,” he keeps his soft touches on your clothed back, his magic cleaning the dirt on your skin, balming the wounds. “It takes a lot from someone, but you're so pretty when you're scared. I got carried away, I'm so sorry.” He quickly apologizes after he says so, you keep hidden, not wishing to speak.

He sighs tiredly, he massages your scalp, you almost mewl like a kitten when he does it. Your heart still aches with fear and he tears up at your shivering, afraid he's broken you.

“To all the Asgardians,” he begins, voice loud and authoritative. “I expect all of you to do your normal duties tomorrow, everyone in their expected places. I'll have the lights fixed after I have my fun.” His fingers massage your scalp as he mentions that. His other hand holds you up by your buttocks, he's steadying you in his arms.

Unknowingly to your hiding self, the Asgardians nod tearfully and all so scared of his statements. They all were quivering under Loki's gaze. He seemed like a true mad King to their eyes. 

To Loki, he's never been more sane, this is all he ever wanted, he's got you in his arms now. And Thor is gone. He's a King.

“To the actors,” he looks at the frightened crew still in their respective places. “I expect a full play. Just as we planned.” He gestures to them to continue, they lock eyes with each other and look at the corpse close to their feet. “Now.” Loki could only roll his eyes with impatience.

They move in their respective places, getting ready for the show. Loki sits on the throne with you clinging to him like a koala. He's smirking all too proud, he loves feeling needed.

He considers putting the mask back, it's a symbol for greatness in this art. It's what his father used to say.

“Love,” he calls. Not wanting to frighten you more, you look up to him with a quivering lip. “You're okay, we're okay.” 

He lifts a bit the end of your dress again, unbothered by the actors frantically moving among themselves, not knowing if they should look or not.

He grabs your ass cheek, making you gasp from the suddenness. You don't want to think about the scene, so you don't. You stick to appreciating his closeness, and him, you feel like a pervert for enjoying this, his low voice speaking against your skin.

He kisses you.

“I'll make you feel better.” He brings you up a bit to lick down your earlobe, moving to kiss your neck. “I'll make it all better, I promise. I've been reckless.” He says, taking off his gloves and pressing his nails against your skin, marking tiny half-moon shapes on your flesh.

Wanting to fully feel you, smiling as he remembers the desperation from the man, he's dreamt years of this performance. Of having a figure to be conquered, the star of the show, you.

The blood still covered his cloak, and it's starting to taint your beautiful, innocent skin. It entices him more, of course. He groans near your ear, you moan under his touch in response.

He hears the movement from the play and he grabs your hair tenderly, you've had enough for one day, he has to be kind, you need his softness that you adore so much. The one he reserves only for you.

He takes off your dress and lets it slip off your body, he's in awe as more of your skin reaches his eyes, his breath hanging for a second.

The actors now well enough not to look at you while the King has you in his arms.

He grabs more than he can, he feels graced by the Gods. He wants to suffocate you with his passion, the blood on your skin tainting his hands. The blood gets him so hard, leaving him impatient as he ruts against your clothed pussy, searching for friction.

He sucks on your neck, taking his time to your shoulders, your hands tremble as you move to grab his hair. You keep your eyes closed, each breath you tried to convince yourself this was completely fine.

Loki's eyes glance to the stage for a moment, he takes a look at a character picking the ghostface mask off the floor, and with a shaky breath and, most likely heavy heart, the next thing to be heard was a short scream. The cut of the knife tainted the actors even more, one of them turned to run to a corner and throw up.

Loki pressed his hands against your ears so you wouldn't listen to the vomit, nor the blood splashing out. But you knew.

"Weak bastards," Loki thought, "they'd never survive a war. Weak, fake puritans. Their blood is a noble sacrifice."

Loki kept a hold of your head to his chest so you wouldn't watch the scene, you were still shaking, poor thing, wouldn't be able to take it. Your curiosity was dangerous to you, he had to keep you safer than he assumed necessary, innocent, untainted little thing.

“Princess,” he takes your face between his hands, only leaving a small distance between his lips to yours, practically speaking right into your mouth. You blushed under his loving gaze. “Can I have you?”

Your breath stopped short, you were so dizzy you feared fainting from such intense emotions. Loki was all you wanted, but after this? You were terrified.

“You don't need to accept, I won't even make you watch the show. I fear it'd be too much for your pure heart to take,” he carefully fixes a singular strand of your hair to behind your ear.

“I'm not pure,” you meekly said, your eyes stinging with the weight of the truth. You've never felt dirtier, never felt more like a sinner. If punishments were deserving for those who committed atrocities, you trembled to believe you'd need them all. “I'm not pure, I deserve to suffer.”

“Don't say that,” Loki sternly commands. “Don't say that, not you. If there's a soul in this universe that deserves all the nine realms, it is you.” His words are stern but so soft, you once again feel your lips quiver at the start of another sob. You were way too emotional, everything was way too wrong.

Everything but the sensual way he was touching you.

His fingers kept a gentle caress of your back, down your spine, to reach your hips and buttocks. His breath hitched as he gritted his teeth, attempting patience, waiting for a sign that you soon granted him.

“Please…” You begged, like a poor little mouse under his tricks. He felt oh so blessed, the Norns truly must love him. He practically yanks you panties down, they hang somewhere around your calves as he starts to touch your needy cunt.

He skillfully touches your folds, your pussy clenching from the movements he's making, he slips his fingers inside your cunt to stroke that sensitive spot inside of you, curling his fingers, making you a mess.

“That's it, sweetheart, take your pleasure,” he craved those pleased whiny moans of yours, they were a treasure to his ears, you were clenching around him and lifting yourself a bit up with each thrusting of his fingers. He couldn't control his groans to himself. “Take it from me, it's yours. All yours.”

His palm circles your clit, paying extra attention to the moments you get sensitive, shivering under his hold like his precious toy, heat running down your skin. You shamelessly begin riding his palm. He kept your legs fully open now with his other hand, keeping a strong grip on your skin.

“Let me play, darling. Don't be cruel.” You didn't know if your tears came from pleasure or fear now. Your mind wasn't allowing you to focus on the seriousness of the situation, you didn't want to look at the blood, and the smell of him intoxicated you to the point you ignored the smell of iron around the place.

“Y-yes…” You mindlessly opened your legs further, making him give you the prettiest, most devilish grin your eyes could see.

“I'll treat you so well, you will enjoy being mine, princess. I'll make sure you do.” You don't hold your moaning, unafraid of the possible eyes wandering to your figure. Your nails digged his shoulders, your hips rutted against him unashamed, begging for the friction, for more of his marvelous fingers.

He helps you through your climax as you're gushing over his clothes, you're a trembling mess, coming undone for him, your entire face now very sticky with sweat and tears, the post-orgasmic bliss clouding your mind.

“Do you want to know how the show ends?” You feel goosebumps as he asks that, no, no you don't want to.

He looks down at you, bringing his fingers up as a trail of your cum sticks on the way to his mouth. You're dazed as he licks his fingers clean, keeping eye contact with you, you see a bit of blood sticking in between the act.

You wonder whose blood it is, if this is any hygienic, but you supposed being a God had its perks for these things. Your eyes squeezed tight in shame.

He makes sure to lift your face to make your eyes open again.

“No need to feel embarrassed if you like it.” Your blood boils and the heat you feel increases, how dare he? To assume you'd like being part of something so cruel?

“I don't like it.” You say coldly, not passing any of the burbling rage you feel.

He laughs a bit from your serious expression, you feel mocked. You knit your brows, you didn't know Loki could be this way.

“I love you, princess.” It's like a stab on your heart after the cruelness.

“No, you don't.” He scoops you up his arms, out of a sudden, you yelp as you're lifted, instinctively holding up around his neck.

He moves the throne magically to the center of the theater. Everything looks so hazed and spectacularly planned out.

He places you carefully down the throne, even fixing the skirt of your dress as he leaves you there.

You feel out of place, the characters that are alive have pleading eyes but none have the courage to move and run away. You begin to feel your blood boil for them too, how could they be so weak? How could you?

“My heart.” Loki calls you, you shiver because of the pet-name.

Your tears came back again, and your head now stings drastically from so much crying. If you survived, the headache you'd feel tomorrow will be painful.

Now, your fear was one thing, your anger another, even your cries as you orgasmed were angelical and he craved them like a sick bastard. But your sadness? That stung deep into his heart, ripping it like a carved knife tearing his insides out.

“Please… please don't cry, love. It's okay.” He never thought he'd beg another, he wanted to make everyone else pay. But you? You didn't deserve pain or suffering, and now you're crying because your poor heart is so sad it can't take any more of what he's made you go through.

He'd have to go a long time apologizing, your sadness was starting to cling to his bones.

“My love, look at me.” He holds your hand, kneeling by your side down the throne. Like you're the Queen and he's just a peasant, your servant, a pet.

You don't feel very royal at the moment, you don't really feel in control. If that's what he's planning on doing.

“That's my pretty girl.” As much as you're defiant and trying to keep yourself unattached, you can't help but blush at his words. They seem innocent, they seem honest. “My pretty girl, now the Queen of Asgard. Just as you deserve.” He looks down at your body and licks his lips. He'd feed you all the compliments in the world just because you deserve them.

His hands slide to your thighs and squish them under his hands. He leaves out an animalistic moan, looking up at you with so much desire clinging to his pupils.

“I've been waiting for this part the whole night.” You feel off at that, but he holds you as he hovers over your figure on the throne, quickly scrambling to get rid of his pants. Your panties have been discarded a long time ago, so the wetness is now ruining the fancy marble of the throne, your cheeks warm up at the realization.

He's pinning you against the throne with his weight, his back to the audience, covering you.

He sheaths himself inside of you, he goes in more easily than you imagined, making your eyes round as you feel him throbbing inside you, desperate to move.

He pulls out a bit and thrusts back into you at once. He has an insufferable smile covering his face, and his eyes closed in pleasure, appreciating the warmth of your cunt squeezing him in, welcoming his cock like you're made for him.

“Oh princess, I envied all the souls that had the pleasure of being near you.” He grabs your chin roughly forcing you to look into his eyes, your own eyes moist as you feel so inferior to him. “But what can they do now? What would they do now that I have you? I have you. I have you.” You pant as he bucks so deep into you, you can feel it hitting impossibly deep to the hilt.

“Y-you don't.”

“Oh?” He taunts. “Is that so, my heart? What does it look like to you?” He keeps his punishing pace into you, hands pressing down your womb where you can both feel the bump of his manhood shoving into you, balls repeatedly hitting your ass with every frantic thrusting. His sweat hitting your skin as he fucked you like a beast. “Because to me,” another harsh thrust, you moan and crave your nails on the skin of his back, legs wrapping around his waist. “It seems like I've won.”

Your eyes roll up your skull as he keeps hitting that sensitive spot, he was craving the sensation of your exploding orgasm, he craved to feel your cunt straining his cock as you milk his cock. His hand moves lower as his thrusts become more powerful, he rubs your clit. He hears your panting and moans into your ear like your sounds are a victory of its own.

You cling to him as his hips work you until your head falls backwards, the lights all on you as you spasm around him and his massive form still holding you for dear life. Loki finished with a bite down onto your neck, right next to your lifeline, biting a bruise as you felt him spilling into you.

You cling to him as you cease your rocking hips, he holds your tired legs down as he keeps himself rested inside you, calming down his breathing as your forehead touches his.

You look down and see the earlier blood smeared across your skin, you gulp, he feels your cunt clench from the sight and he gives a satisfied smile.

He coos you into his arms, embracing your form.

“I have you, princess.” He pulls out carefully and you hiss from oversensitivity. A long string of his cum coming out of you, you watch it with fascination as it runs down your thighs, moving a bit so it doesn't ruin the pristine throne. “I have you, my star.”

He conjures a knife again, and hands it to you. You watch it dazedly, the bliss really making you more fuzzy.

“Dearest,” he sweetly calls you, he's been doing that a lot, you notice. “The star needs to finish the show. The true leader. The one they're obsessed with, the true Star.”

You're limp as you take the news, you move the knife on your hands with a detached curiosity, it's clean now but you wonder for how long it's been used, and for what kind of things.

“I can't kill anyone.” You weakly say, afraid you'll disappoint, his eyes are wide but he still nods. He's quick to show you he's not disappointed.

He pats your hair and nuzzles your cheek with his face, getting your lips close to him so he can give you multiple and multiple kisses all over your face. You feel his affection like a healing balm in itself, you bathe yourself in it.

“It's okay, it doesn't need to be you.” He affirms, still passing his hands across your hair, and skin. He glanced at another actor, you hid your face again into his chest as you anticipate the cruel fate that'll obviously occur no matter what.

And it did, you heard another splash, someone else needed to die. You're shaking and your sobbing is louder than you wanted, Loki keeps you scooped onto him. He begins rocking you back and forth gently as a means to calm you down, cherishing you, babying you.

“The Star agrees for it to be the end, I presume?” He asks and you nod repeatedly. You just want it to end.

“Please… please, no more.” You beg weakly, he cradles you and coos some more, keeping you safely tucked in his arms, he starts to move around to stand up with you still clinging onto him like a koala.

“This will be all.” He gives a satisfied smile to the crowd of actors, the ones that survived shaking, trembling. Still meekly downing their heads as all actors do when a play's over. They rush to the exits, and Loki allows them.

“Shh, now.” He still asks of you as your cries are unstopping. “Please, love, it's over.”

“What will happen now?”

“I've told you, I'm the King. Nothing will happen, this play lasted for generations, it's the first opportunity I've had of making it my own. Centuries before you even dreamed to exist, but they don't dare to defy the King.” He patiently passes his hand up and down your back, holding you more to him. “We're safe. I told you. We're all safe.”

You guessed he wasn't going to refer to the dead people around you, or the ones that died in the way.

He takes a trembling you with him somewhere else, you don't know where you're going, but you don't have the bravery to peek out and see. You're still afraid to be the next.

You feel even more perverted everytime you think about death and feel his sticky cum running down your thighs, you feel even more perverted as you don't regret it.

“I'll take you to our chambers.” He says, as if it's nothing.

“Our chambers? Mine is…” He interrupts you. You check around and notice you're inside the cold castle, nobody's in sight but you and Loki.

“No…not yours, our chamber.” He recalls you. You shake your head clinging to his chest again, leaving out another sob.

“I'm sorry,” he continues, frowning now. “Do you hate me?” His voice trembles as he asks, your fists curled around his muscular chest as your mind fights to hate him, but you fear you don't. You don't want to tell him that you don't hate him. “This was more traumatic to you than I assumed it would be.”

Your eyes open as you try to look anywhere but his face, and as you peek at the floor, you see the shiny, bloody ghost face mask left on the floor. As if it's nothing now, as if nothing happened.

It gives you the chills.

“I-I, I've never had to–” You sob loudly. “Never thought I'd need to see- see people being murdered.” Your stinging eyes now struggled to keep open, you fought to breathe and to speak. He tries to calm you down and rubs over your clothed skin some more.

“My love, my heart, it's over now.”

Is it? Is it over? Was it all a huge nightmare? Your eyes squeeze shut as you wish for it to be all a giant, mean trick. But as you opened them, everything was real, and the blood, the cum, the memories, still very much present speckled across your impure skin.

“It's over.” He places you ever so gently down his giant bed, it felt heavenly, the pillows were so soft and the mattress smelled like paradise. It felt so heavenly you sighed out in relief, your bones received the touch against the bed like a treat. “It's been enough for this year, but we'll need to treasure the future performances.”

Your heart froze, of course. There were additionals.

“You don't need to worry about that now, my heart.” He pleads again, kissing you, you accept, and then pressing a gentle peck to your forehead. “For now, I'll let you relax. I'll prepare a bath for us, and I'll let you rest your divine mind into dreamland. Does this sound suitable?” He asks with a kind smile, smoothing his fingers over your wrists.

You clear your throat to say.

“Yes.”

“Perfect, my heart. As I have you, I'll take care of you. I've planned to have you as my Queen for a long time. I won't let it go to waste, I promise I'll take care of you.” He scoops you up to him again, he seemed to enjoy treating you like a princess a lot. Cradling his face next to yours. “One day you'll forgive me. But for now, for now, let me make you learn how to love me.”

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101