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lokisgoodgirl · 6 months

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Darkest Night, Brightest Day: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (6) One tiny bed, one tiny brain cell, one breakthrough and one big rock. Warnings: Minors DNI. One bed. Smuttish. Sexual tension. Humour. Sneaky Satchels. Language. Pining. Mild Angst. (w/c 6.2k) Recommended Folklore Track: My Tears Richochet

You held your breath, staring at the wall as Loki lowered himself beside you in the moon-cut darkness.

Lifting, you pushed your pillow further to the side. He moaned gently as his head met the cushion he had brought from the floor with a soft thump. In the single bed, there could only have been an inch between your bodies.

Your eyes were wide open, focusing on a single spot on the wall. The warmth of his skin, a slight brush of his cotton-clad calf against your bare one setting your nerves alight. He lifted his head, raking his hair back as he always did before lying back on the pillow with a sigh. “Comfortable?” he whispered.

You both knew the answer to that one. “Sure,” you whispered back.

Through the wall, the suspicious muted moans of pleasure continued.

A bedspring creaked. “I’m sure it’s not what you think,” Loki murmured. “What you think, you mean.” you hissed playfully. “I can’t believe your brother has corrupted Steve!?” Loki’s abs pulsed intermittently against your back as he laughed, trying to be silent. “At least he aimed high with his first time,” you whispered to the wall. Loki’s snort of restrained laughter blew against your neck. “Aimed high? Agent, I think you vastly overestimate my brother’s prowess.” You giggled against the pillow, and without meaning to, sort of, you inched back closer to Loki’s stomach. But not touching. You made sure of that. “At least they have protection, thanks to you-” you muttered with mock-stoicism. There was a longer pause, this time. The heat from his body nestled close. Infuriatingly close. “You know, I am not sure I wish to take credit for that,” he said quietly. It sounded serious, but you could tell he was smiling.

He shifted. You heard the soles of his feet thrum against the metal bed-frame. The sides of the conjured blanket draped down each side of the bed, mattress creaking beneath his hip.

A dip made you roll back further against him.

“Sorry,” he murmured as your shoulders touched his chest, “collateral damage.” “It’s fine,” you said, as casually as you could muster. “It’s...nice.”

The sharp intake of breath which sucked in his stomach made you clench. Seconds ticked by as you watched shadows dance the wall. A weave of ivy hung over Loki’s window, its outline waving against moonlight.

“I’m sorry I kissed you yesterday,” you whispered. But you weren’t sure why. It seemed necessary, somehow. “Consider it forgotten,” Loki hummed politely. He started to speak again, and then stopped. You ceased breathing as he shuffled closer. You wondered if he meant to. But still, his stomach didn’t touch your back.

“I’m sorry for what I did our second night here,” he murmured unexpectedly. “It was rude, and entirely thoughtless for me to turn up in your door in that regrettable state. I don’t know what possessed me-” “Consider it forgotten,” you repeated staunchly back to him. There was silence. What did you expect him to say, you chided as your stomach dropped; grasping the snug blanket draped over you. You rubbed the pelt between your fingertips nervously.

You knew exactly what you expected him to say.

‘I’m not sorry,’ he would have purred licentiously in your ear. ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss. It was all I could do in the supermarket not to finish what you started-’

And then, he would have rolled you towards him with the firmest intent. The smoulder in his eyes burning through any hint, any inkling that this was a bad idea. His knuckles would have trailed down your neck, between your breasts; his fingers slipping down to the hot mess between your legs.

‘Oh darling,’ he would simper as curls fell sluttishly around his jaw, fingers slipping with ease inside you. ‘I’ve missed you so.’

“Did you ever love me, Loki?”

For a second, you couldn’t believe you’d actually said it.

The moments that you waited for Loki to give any sign that he’d heard you were the longest in living memory.

You bit your lip, grimacing as he shuffled back, just an inch. But the loss of his skin so close to yours made your heart sink. It was cold again. “Yes, I did.” he said curtly.

There was a hint of reproach in his voice, but it was sincere. Your heart dropped at the past tense as he cleared his throat quietly. A fidget of his fingers on the blanket rustled as he considered his next words.

“Did you?” he asked, the words running together. “Love, me?” “Yes,” you murmured without pause. The blanket’s fur twirled between your thumb and forefinger, twisted to a point. The question that had always lingered in your mind came to the forefront in crisp clarity. What the hell, you thought bitterly. Might as well get some answers. You took a deep breath.

“I always wondered, after you said...‘gods don’t love like we do’ and then went all quiet. You never told me what you meant, I thought maybe...because I’m not one of you-” the thought lingered in the air. “I don’t know…” you trailed off.

Each shallow breath was heavy. “Deeper,” Loki’s quiet whisper breathed against your back.

Your teeth chattered. It was real this time. “H-huh?” you shivered. In the silence, Loki’s arm slid over your blanketed shoulders. The flat of his stomach finally met your spine, the familiar rippled surface warmer than a hot bath on a winter night. You sank into the feeling as he drew you close and squeezed. Just once. “We love deeper.” he mumbled nervously. It hung in the air, his heartbeat thumping against your lungs. “Our capacity for depth is not limited to strength, or knowledge, but feeling.” “Why wouldn’t you just tell me that?” you snipped, harder than you had intended. “I was embarrassed. It made me feel-” Loki paused. You held your breath, eyes darting around the sliver of moonlight cast on the wall before settling on the ivy’s shadow.

“Weak?” you whispered softly. “Weak.” he replied.

There was silence.

Rain had begun to beat against the window. The sheet against your bodies rustled. “My brother has shown me some of the error of my ways,” Loki said quietly. “And you, of course.” His fingertip brushed absent-mindedly over the blanket covering your chest. “I am only sorry you had to suffer my worst qualities. You deserved better. Perhaps next time I will be a better...man.” You could feel the effort it took to withhold the alternative.

As his words sank in, your stomach twisted. “Next time?” you murmured earnestly.

“If I am lucky enough to find love again, I hope to deserve it. Appreciate it, not squander it.” Loki said.

With frightening clarity, you realised the idea of Loki with anyone but you was a dagger to the heart. Loki felt you bristle in his tentative hold.

Although he thought he had been doing rather well, something now made him think he’d said the wrong thing.

It had taken all his not inconsiderable strength to keep the words in. He had been honest to a point. Perhaps too honest for his liking. And, so it seemed, yours.

Sheathed desire bubbled between his thighs. Ignored. He had been doing well, he repeated to himself as he felt a quiet sigh escape you. One he was not meant to hear, he was sure. Loki knew that sex was not what you wanted. Not really. One night of mind-numbing passion on this abysmal bed would not go any way to mending the pain he had caused. It would hurt you. The thought made him feel ill. Loki was rather proud of himself at the realisation, but gods, how he wanted you.

Your quiet breaths were a melody in the darkness, the strangeness of this situation made stranger by its aching familiarity.

He re-positioned his head, focusing on the space between your shoulder-blades. The points shifted beneath his t-shirt you wore, hair pooled messily on the pillow. Had you swept it up in that way to expose the curve of your neck to him on purpose? Loki frowned, trying to quieten the thought.

He wanted to crash to your skin with the force of his kisses. Wet, pure, longing. To roll you to your back with a demure sigh from your lips. Loose himself in the scent of you, the earthy sweetness of your heat. He wanted to tell you that he was sorry, that he was wrong, that he would try.

But words were not what was needed. He knew that now. Words had lost him your love. He needed to show you he could change.

But still, Loki allowed himself to to tease the t-shirt up your waist in the safety of his mind, feel your perfect breasts spill into his waiting palms as your legs wound around his hips.

Just for a moment.

He imagined you would pull him to your open mouth, muttering ambrosial words of wistful devotion as your hand searched into the waistband of his pyjama pants. Fingers would wind anxiously around his straining cock, sinking into old rhythms before he sank himself inside your beautiful cunt with a ragged gasp of your name-

Norns, no. Despite furtive efforts, Loki felt himself hardening beneath the silky cotton of his pyjamas. He cleared his throat, screwing his eyes shut, trying to think unsexy thoughts.

Steve Rogers in lingerie, he summoned.

Regrettably, the image was not as tragic as he had hoped. Cursing silently, he scooted away from the curve of your back. The loss of your touch was a rip. He felt you stiffen. Biting his lip, he considered his options. They were few. “I have something to confess, Agent I ” The words stumbled. “You’re getting aroused?” you questioned quietly. If Loki didn’t know better, he would think it was coy. He swallowed, fighting every urge simmering beneath his skin to gather you in his arms and ravage you in a mess of filthy groans and wet kisses. “Regrettably, yes.” he replied solemnly. There was a low giggle. “I would be insulted if you weren’t.” you added quietly. Loki found his hand slipping from its hold around your shoulders and beneath the sheets. “Excuse me while I just-” he muttered, adjusting his cock so it sat against the waistband of his pyjamas. The small touch was electric. Fingers lingered on a pulsing vein, dragging slowly across the delicate skin. Straight up, nestled tightly to elastic; thick and ready to fill her. No, Loki grit. Your hair brushed his forehead as you raised your head from the pillow, craning behind you to meet his eyes.

“Be closer,” you said softly in the darkness. Moonlight crackled in your irises, starlit perfection sent to test the very limits of his endurance. Loki felt his brows slant.

Cautiously his fingers grazed the curve of your waist. The pads of his digits sank against the flesh, velvet sand.Safe. “Are you sure?” he whispered. His breath hitched as you pressed back into him, his chin grazing the back of your head. He inhaled deeply, noting the smallest push of your ass into his crotch. “I’m cold,” was all you said. A small smile pressed against his cheeks, rustling your hair. He wondered if you could feel it. You always used to be so attuned to him. “We can’t have that,” he hummed resolutely in response. Loki felt you inhale sharply, his fingers sinking deeper into your skin. He released them, beginning to graze achingly slowly down the curve of your waist. Closing his eyes, he lingered every inch of its route down your ribs before meeting the dip.

The ascent was tortuous, the slight tremble of your muscles as his digits reached the peak. Loki didn’t think you were breathing.

His fingers ghosted over your hip, tips dancing circles against the skin so light they were almost invisible.

Your whole body shivered. “We’re not having sex,” you trembled unconvincingly.

Loki nodded, dragging his nose against the muss of your hair. “Absolutely,” he replied, holding in a groan. His cock was pulsing, nestled in the middle of your ass. He could feel the drag of your panties, every beat of his lust thrumming against thin pyjama pants. God, it was torture. And it was Valhalla. Your cheeks tensed against his throbbing manhood, a light push of your hips backwards making him release a whimpering sigh. He could see your fingertips grasp against the bed’s edge as his own trailed lazily over the curve of your ass beneath the sheets, down the side of your thigh, catching fine hair against his feather-light touch. Each breath felt like it shook your whole body as you tried to stay as still as possible. Your eyes were closed, memorising every grace of Loki’s long fingers as they danced across your skin in wisping patterns. Runes. The soft flesh sizzled, tickling zinging of nerve endings coming ablaze beneath his impossibly cautious touch. It was the most turned on you had been in your entire life.

His breaths were deep and quiet, the press and release of his solid chest against your back making wetness slide between your legs. You were desperate for him, fallen and utterly gone to anything but him.

And yet, as his martyred cock throbbed against your lower back – you conceded that this was no longer the Loki you had known.

Are you testing him, you thought. The uncomfortable realisation came like a bolt of lightening, timed with another miniscule roll of your hips. Loki released a ragged gasp.

The warm air flooded your ear. It filled your mind with memories of him fucking you gently over the edge in the Tower, the dirty moans and wandering hands while he rocked himself inside your pussy, emptying all he had to give.

You conceded that testing him would be beyond you right now. The urge to slip your hand between your bodies, curl your fingers around that perfect cock and set him alight with the power you held. If a girl finds herself in bed with Loki Laufeyson, you mused as you arched your back, pressing firm against the hard length pulsing against the t-shirt, some things are inevitable.

“Careful, Agent” Loki warned. There was a tremor in his voice you hadn’t heard before. “You might give me the wrong idea.”

“Is it wrong?” you said. Your bodies halted, words hanging in the air above your heads, “I don’t know-” he whispered.

Loki thrust gently. The smooth cotton of his pyjama pants did nothing to hide the ferocious power of the flesh which lay beneath. His length slid against your panties, pressing into the curve of your ass, the little knot of his ties catching on your t-shirt. You would bet good money there was a wet spot.

“Oh,” he moaned gently. It was the sweetest sound you had ever heard. “You’re keeping me warm,” you panted earnestly, as Loki’s fingers began to trail back up your thigh. Firmer, this time. “You’re keeping me..a-uh...warm.” The clenching was methodical now. Each tense of your thighs brought blood rushing to a pussy, plump and wet and mad for his touch. Loki was barely moving, every wave of his hips as they rolled against your ass achingly slow. His restrained, polite pants in your ear were electric. Like a public school virgin. The careful drag of his veined cock caught on the t-shirt you wore. His fingertips dug into your hip suddenly, a judder making Loki’s leg shake against yours. “If we don’t -s-stop, I’m going to...uh, c-cum,” he choked apologetically, accompanied by another devastatingly glacial thrust. “Don’t-” you replied, tapering to a small moan. “Don’t?” he gasped, as you craned behind to look into his eyes. His face was aglow in shards of moonlight, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow. That beautiful stare smouldered with an unplaceable intensity – his breathing shallow. Concern was awash on his features, wet lips parted as he looked at your with unbearable submission. “Don’t stop.”

There were no more words between you as Loki’s body curled to yours, hand shaking with the effort to keep his light touch steady.

His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to pull you back against him, pull down the pyjama pants and sink you onto his cock. Pull aside your panties and touch you. How you wished he fucking would. The slow, trepidatious roll of his hips continued; each quiet gasp from his lips a melody. With a low groan, his stomach clenched against your back. You released a pant of his name, turning to see a profile you thought you’d never see again.

The god’s face was twisted in pained pleasure, deep lines carved into the expanse of his brow, damp curls winding across the skin. His lips were parted, eyes screwed shut and neck taut as he emptied himself against your back. The spurt of his cum slapped against your skin. He clenched to you, his legs twitching and thrashing against the tight bedsheets.

Loki’s thick tip had come free from its prison, the slick skin grazing your spine. Slow, staggered exhales of desire breezed your ear as he came undone; the thick roll of his seed beneath the t-shirt making it tingle.

Breathy melodies of of his low groans ebbed and silence fell.

Only the tapping of the ivy against the window rustled gently.

“There is something I must say to you,” Loki murmured in the darkness, his spent voice muffled by the mess of your hair. A cool wisp of magic between your bodies hummed. Your heart dropped, realising it signalled the removal of any remnants of...whatever this was. “But first I must understand it, you see.” Loki whispered. “It hasn’t quite...fallen into place.” He paused, palm sliding under the pillow below your cheek. He sighed quietly. You could hear the tiredness in his voice. “I cannot place it. Like a dream, twisting out of reach. A wisp of smoke. Too much has happened, too much-” he muttered. “Just be here, with me. Just for tonight.” you cut sadly, hoping it would quiet him. Loki squeezed the arm holding around your chest. His lips grazed your shoulder, hovering on the precipice. He released a breath he’d been holding against your skin. It sounded like a sigh, and perhaps it was.

“I know that cannot expect to cross the ocean between us.” Loki murmured so quietly you were surprised you heard it.

It sounded like a prayer. “Not an ocean,” you whispered, slurred by the sudden descent of sleep. Self-preservation you were glad of, at last.

Loki inhaled quietly as you continued, shuffling back against his crotch. Muscle memory. “-lake, maybe.” You hoped he could feel the quiet smile that twitched your cheek beneath his thumb. “A lake,” Loki repeated; feeling you drift into dreams in his hold. He hoped you were dreaming of him.

When Loki saw the seconds hand tick past seven am, he slipped cautiously from the bed. It had been a long night.

He pulled on the first thing he could find, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He grimaced, immediately swapping the beige jumper for a slightly less ghastly beige jumper.

Damn that Rogers, he mulled for the hundredth time this week before he cast a last lingering glance at you curled in his bed. Your hand hung off the side, your face tipped up, snoring gently. Loki smiled.

The door closed softly behind him, glancing to the still-closed entrance to his brother and Rogers room. What happened last night, he hoped, would remain a mystery. Loki picked his way down the stairs, careful of creaks. He needed time to think. To marinate. To review the events of last night, to think on the boulder which blocked his understanding. If he could only match the puzzle pieces which taunted him.

He had slept only in snatches, waking to every breathy moan from your lips and sleep-drunk squirm. Rather pleased with himself that he had navigated the rudimentary alert system of the stairs, he turned into the kitchen with a start. “Norns, brother” Loki gasped, gripping the door-frame.

Thor sat upright at the kitchen table, a mug of tea cupped between his meaty hands and a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Loki tried to ignore him as his brother’s eyes followed his journey across the room. He plopped a teabag in the mug with the yellow bear, the sound of pouring from the kettle deafening in the eerie silence. Thor’s stare burned into the back of his head as he poured the milk.

I’ll bet that buffoon is still smiling, he thought. Loki stirred, tapping the side of the mug twice with the dulled spoon before placing it carefully down. He turned, unsurprised that his deduction had been correct. Thor still sat, smiling, watching, looking pleased with himself as his brother manoeuvred into the seat opposite him. “Sleep well?” Loki asked. “Not really,” Thor said with uncharacteristic cheer for this time in the morning. The smile didn’t falter. “You?”

“Not really,” Loki replied abruptly. They eyed each other. Loki didn’t like when his brother smiled like this. It almost always meant that he thought he’d gotten the better of him. Rarely, however, was he correct. “We didn’t have sex, if that was your plan.” Loki sniffed, picking up a buttered crumpet from the plate in between Thor’s elbows. He took a bite. “Right.” Thor said conspiratorially. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about, brother.” There was a pause. Thor sipped his tea, placing it down carefully before resting his chin in his palm. He blinked several times. “Did you...hear, anything, perchance?” “Not a thing” Loki lied. “Liar.” Thor smirked.

Loki adjusted his feet under the table, socks squeaking against the linoleum. “Where’s your newly minted ‘lover’, anyway then?” he snipped, running a fingertip around the mug lip.

He looked up, jaw set and cheekbones sharpened. “Captain Rogers,” he husked for emphasis, narrowing his eyes. His chin tilted, a silent ooo cutting the air between them.“I didn’t think he was your type,” Loki sneered, studying his brother’s face for tells. Thor shrugged, resting back in the chair which gave a malevolent creak. “People change, remember Loki?” Something didn’t add up.

“What was it then?” Loki snipped, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “A foot-rub? A back massage? You can’t expect me to believe-” “Oh, brother.” Thor rumbled sagely, shaking his head. “So many questions. And yet…” He made a bursting gesture with his fingertips, milking the sparkles, before tapping the side of his nose.

Loki rolled his eyes.

“Is it time to go home yet?” he muttered into his tea.

If you didn’t know what had happened last night, you might have been forgiven for assuming everything seemed normal. There was the usual morning buzz in the cottage kitchen which you had become accustomed to. The smell of eggs and bacon had lured you from your morning cocoon, albeit after you had taken five long minutes to remind yourself what had actually happened in the darkness. Was it a dream? No. If it was, Loki would have fucked you senseless as you gripped the wrought-iron bedframe. But all the evidence that remained was a dried dark patch on the back of his t-shirt. Missed a bit Loki, you mused as you let it fall to the side with a sigh. Thankfully you still had the trousers you wore last night. For some reason, you decided to keep his t-shirt on. It was better quality than yours, you surmised, cum-stain or no cum-stain. Loki won’t mind, you thought optimistically as you tucked it in. He might like it.

Turning into the kitchen, you took a moment to absorb the tableau. Thor and Steve stood at the kitchen sink; Steve washing, Thor drying. They both wore devious smiles, meeting each others eyes nervously as each dish passed between them.

The captain noticed you in the doorway. “Good Morning, Agent” he said with a quiet nod. You returned it. “Morning, Agent” Thor piped, running the red chequered cloth through his fingers with a grin. “Quite the pair, aren’t they?” Loki drawled sarcastically.

He nudged a plate of food dismissively in your direction. You sat opposite him, frowning. He was fixated on the other men, analysing eyes mapping each unspoken word between them like a rifle’s scope. As the seconds passed, it became more unlikely you would be receiving the welcome you’d hoped. The Loki you remembered seemed to have re-appeared. Maybe all he needed was a sentimental dry-hump, you raged silently as you quickly ate a few bites. Running sweaty palms down your trousers, you stood. “Ready in ten minutes okay? Tent packs and all the other usual...stuff.”

All eyes in the kitchen fell on you. Loki looked up appraisingly through a fan of dark lashes, the heaviness of his stare making your stomach drop.

“Ten minutes,” you repeated coldly. ‘What was that?!’ you heard Steve hiss as you made your way up the stairs. ‘What was what?’ you heard Loki snap in response.

The hum of bitchy conversation continued as white noise.

You stood on the landing at the doorway to your decimated room with tears pricking your eyes, realising you had nowhere to go.

Loki watched you stride ahead, studying a superfluous map in your hands. You knew where you were taking them, it was just for show. But Loki could understand why you wanted to avoid conversation. Something was bubbling uncomfortably beneath the surface of his skin. Shifting beneath it like ants, like wet flour straining to exit a sieve. This morning he had clung to the mystery of his brother’s intentions as a mortal would to a life-raft. Avoiding something. But what? It moved whenever he tried to focus. And in the meantime, he’d hurt you again somehow. He’d seen it.

He grit his teeth, nerves flaming at the incessant wittering of hushed conversation behind him. “Will you both desist for one moment?” he growled, casting a scathing look back at his brother and Rogers. “We’re just talking,” Steve snipped in response. “Maybe you should try it with you-know-who.” Loki rolled his eyes. “Please don’t tell me my brother has woven you into his hair-brained charade, Rogers.” Steve chuckled, rubbing his chin. He paced several steps towards the god, eyes meeting before leaning forward to Loki’s ear. “Doesn’t seem so hair-brained to me,” he whispered covertly. “Maybe you should learn to relax a bit.”

Loki pulled away with a horrified frown as Steve’s smug smile widened. “You are telling me to-” The captain cast a glance to your disappearing figure further up the path. “Consider last night payback for Colombia,” he said, cutting in with a wink and slapping Loki’s shoulder before moving down the path at a jog. Loki folded his arms, watching Steve go as Thor sidled sheepishly beside him. “I don’t know what you see in him,” Loki said abruptly. “I don’t like him like this.”

Thor slid his arm over his brother’s shoulder, pulling Loki’s head beneath his chin. His fist mussed the top of his hair. “Get off,” Loki chided, pushing him away and smoothing his parting. “Come, brother” Thor said, his mirth-filled lilt making Loki want to trip him. “Tents require our erection.”

Autumn foliage set the lake view from the hillside aflame.

All around you was the rustle of wind against rock, the low calls of geese in the distance. The blondes had already laid their groundsheet and made a valiant effort at pitching the tent before Thor became trapped inside. You and Loki made headway with your own effort. The site you’d picked was challenging, as intended. But the chill that had descended over Loki made it more so. “Can we be reasonable about this?” you said quietly, eyeing Steve trying to guide Thor to the tent’s exit before looking back to him. Loki released the tent mechanism. It unfurled. “Just because I used to be your girlfriend doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me-”

“-You were never my girlfriend,” Loki snapped, lowering to secure the first loop. “You were my consort.” You stared incredulously while Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Commoners have ‘girlfriends’. Royalty have consorts.” he explained.

‘Did Laufeyson just call her a prostitute?!’ ‘No, Rogers. You’re thinking of escort. Or concubine.’ Thor paused. ‘We really should call it something else, you know…’ They looked up innocently to you and Loki staring at them. Both sat cross legged with the half-collapsed tent slopping to the side. “Don’t mind us,” Rogers drawled sarcastically, waving a hand before leaning it behind him. “We’re just having a conversation, same as you.”

He was very sassy today.

You turned back to Loki, folding your arms. “I know what you’re doing,” you snapped wryly. “You’re trying to up the dick-o-meter again because you were vulnerable with me. It’s not necessary, just forget it-”

Thor released an ill-timed here here. “Shut up, Thor-” “Oh am I?” Loki drawled, rolling his eyes. “Well, many thanks for your analysis, Agent. Now if you could just get back to your area of expertise-” he held up the tent-poles, tipping them towards you expectantly.

You swiped them, glaring as you took a deep breath.

“You’re going to have to move your tent about three feet to the left, guys,” you said to Thor and Steve while not breaking eye contact with your ex. “That boulder is an obstruction for the pole area at the side.” “Nonsense,” Thor muttered. He tugged off his bobble hat and unzipped his puffer jacket. Beneath, his chest was exposed. Steve’s eyes widened as Thor bent over to pick up the boulder with ease. There was a gasp from the right. The four of you snapped towards the noise. A man’s head and shoulders had become visible above the rocky plateau of the hillside. Silence fell as the man scrambled over the ridge; patting himself down as he observed Thor’s elevated boulder with amazement. Steve’s attention floundered back to the tent-poles, wiggling one against the ground. You looked pleadingly to Loki, but he was nowhere to be seen. Oh no, you thought.

“Good morrow, fellow nature enthusiast.” Somehow Thor’s attempt to sound like anyone but himself was the most Thor thing you had ever heard.

The man stopped in his tracks, squinting at the blonde casually holding a boulder. A breeze whipped Thor’s hair, billowing like spun gold around his shoulders. The puffer jacket blew wider, his glistening chest muscles reflecting the low autumnal sun. “Aren’t you?” “No. Definatley not.” Thor released a strained laugh, awkwardly fumbling for a hood that wasn’t there with one hand. In the other, the boulder wobbled. He patted his own back, spinning in a circle and knocking into Steve still looking busy with the tent.

“Watch it-” the captain hissed as the rock fell with a crump to the ground. It began to roll, and when Rogers looked up, the doe-eyed concern in his eyes couldn’t have been closer to his Avengers publicity shot if he’d tried.

The man looked between Thor and Steve with sudden panic – catching you out the corner of his eye. He covered his mouth, pointing as you began to pace towards him.

“Oh my god, oh my god” the man muttered, looking frantically at the sky. “Fuck, are there aliens? Am I gonna die? Is this ground zero?” “Hello friend,” Loki purred, appearing out of nowhere behind the hiker.

One hand slid over the bemused mortal’s shoulders while the other pushed the low hood from his face, uncovering that famously wolfish smile. The man’s catatonic stare became even wider as his gaze tracked from Loki’s chest to his eyes. He let out a girlish yelp.

“You’re-!” With one well-placed squeeze of Loki’s fingers at the top of his spine, the man fell with a graceless thump to the ground. “Loki,” Thor chided. Loki grimaced apologetically. “He went down too quickly, it was my intent to catch him.”

The four of them stepped closer, huddling around the unconscious body on the hillside. “He was going to blow us,” Steve said solemnly, hands on his hips. “It was for the best, thank you Laufeyson.” “You’re welcome?” Loki replied, smirking. He and Thor exchanged a knowing grin as you got on your hands and knees, working towards the passed out bystander.

You felt the man’s pulse, putting him in the recovery position and fishing in your rucksack for a blanket. “Well we can’t just leave him here,” you hissed, looking further down the hill. “What if he was with someone?!” “We’ll tell them he fell over,” Loki chirped. “Mortals fall over all the time.” Thor hummed sagely. “Tis’ true.”

He caught the menacing stare you threw him. “Well it is!” he added, offering a brisk nod to his brother in solidarity. You scrunched his discarded bobble hat in a ball and threw it at his face. “Put this on,” you spat – “you almost caused this guy serious damage with your stupidity. Just do what your told for once.” Thor’s face crumpled. He tugged on the hat, making sure all of his hair was tucked in. You rifled through the man’s pockets, finding a wallet. “Colin Robertson,” you hummed quietly. “What a boring name,” Loki piped. Thor elbowed him in the ribs, shaking his head. “We can’t leave him here, we need mountain rescue” you said as you stood.

The men looked between each other. “Heck no,” Steve gasped. “I’ll be darned if the Avengers have to enlist mountain-heckin’-rescue.” “But Steve, we’re not the Avengers.” you cut with air quotes. Steve’s mouth hardened. “Right.”

Loki sighed, rocking on his heels. “What if we transport the body, and dispatch him somewhere else?” “Kill him?!” “No not kill him, just...deposit him in a more salubrious location for our purposes.”

Thor frowned, resting a thumb beneath his chin. “How many pints of ale does it require to render a mortal man unconscious?”

“Enough!” you yelled. The three of them fell quiet. “One of you pick him up, one of you scout.” Thor and Steve looked at Loki. “Why must I carry him?” “You discombobulated him.” Steve said matter-of-factly. “Oh I see.” he snarled. Blood began to thunder in his ears. “And as recompense for my quick actions which heroically concealed your idiotic field trip to this blasted place, I must carry him like the humble pack-horse I am. Is that it?” Steve arched a brow. Loki’s vision blurred. He raked his hair, chuckling manically to the ground. The air suddenly felt electric.

“I see it now-” he said abruptly. Loki began pacing back and forth, two steps of his long legs towards Colin before he’d turn on his heel.

There was a crazed look in his eyes, his cheekbones popping with every work of his jaw. The open Barbour swung around his thighs, his cheeks flushed. His pupils were wide, dark curls falling over his brow like the sexiest mad professor you’d ever seen. “What do you-” “I see it now, I see it-” he repeated in velvet whispers, stopping. He held out his palms, brows peaking as he looked at them with fascination.

“It’s fallen into place,” he whispered. “Loki, what-” His eyes rose to meet yours, hard features softening under your worried stare. Loki let out another strained chuckle, brows knitting. “Why I’m afraid to be loved,” he said quietly.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw the blondes cover their mouths with a synchronised gasp.

Thor gripped Steve’s shoulder, his eyes beginning to water. They stared. Loki began to pace again, raking his hair away from his face. His lips kept parting and closing, trying to catch the thoughts buzzing in his mind like wasps. “Earthquakes in this realm, they have...aftershocks. Yes?” he stammered, stopping to look between the three of you.

“I struggled to place why the memories of our time at the cabin-with-no-place affected me so, brother-” he gazed at Thor, frowning. “But now I see it was the last time I felt...content. Safe. With no expectation or consequence. Nothing had yet been taken from me,” he murmured. Your heart skipped a beat, twisting and begging for you to run to him. His eyes were manic, voice trembling with wild curls playing against the wind. “No,” he whispered to himself; “that’s not true. I was content with…” he looked up at you. Thor and Steve glanced at each other with wide eyes, then back to Loki. Loki sighed. “Ever since our inaugurations, brother, I have been displaced. My anger, my jealousy, the void, the mind stone...my imprisonment, the deaths-” He turned away, looking out over the steep drop to the lake below.

“When I came to this realm, I was always waiting for another earthquake. Fighting against another aftershock, ready to shake my world apart once more. And when none came…” he trailed off. You could hear the thickness of his voice as he held back tears. “I created them.” It was unbearable. You walked forward, approaching like a horse you were trying not to spook. Fingers brushed the arm of his waxed jacket, urging him to turn. He spun slowly, looking at your hand resting on his arm, your eyes wide and worried. “I’m sorry,” he choked quietly. His eyes were swimming. And yours were, too.

“I was afraid.” he gasped, staggered. “Afraid of the rug being swept beneath my feet as it has so many times. Without my powers, my lineage, my supposed impenetrability...I thought I would be lacking. That you would think me lacking, as all else have.” He inhaled sharply, turning his face once more to the lake.

You heard Thor protest quietly at the last statement, thankfully cut short by a quick yank of the hat over his eyes by Steve. “It was safer to anticipate the ending. Distance myself. Harden myself with the tools which have helped me survive, become who I thought I was supposed to be-” Your hand slid up Loki’s cheek, combing past his temple.

“But I remember now, that is not who I truly am.” he whispered as a quiet tear squeezed from his outer lashes. “I realise, now, that is not who I want to be.” “And who do you want to be, Loki?” you murmured, shallow breaths making your chest rise and fall at alarming speed. He pressed his forehead against yours, warm breath ghosting your lips. “I want to be-” “-I hate to be a bellyache, but our friend is stirring,” Steve chirped nervously. You heard the grind of Loki’s teeth before his light touch on your forearms lessened. “Right,” Loki said, straightening. He smoothed wild hair behind his ears, popping the collar of his jacket. At some point, Thor had propped Colin against a rock. His head was lolling, mouth hanging open. But his fingers twitched.

There was a determination in Loki’s eyes. Suddenly, he seemed lighter. His hand slipped down your arm, toying with your fingers. “Shall we continue this later?” he whispered with a nervous smile. You nodded, returning it. Emboldened, Loki strode over to the limp mortal, catching him as he began to slide sideways down the rock. He lifted him with ease, propping him over his shoulders. “I can carry him, Loki-” Steve said apologetically, edging closer despite Thor’s grasp of his arm. “It’s quite alright,” Loki said, adjusting his grip around the back of the man’s thighs. He looked between the two dunces, smiling.

Thor's face fell.

“It will give the two of you time to work out one of those cunning plans you have such affinity for," Loki said.

Chapter Seven: Harvest - (final)

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