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wheredafandomat · 10 months

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Party girl

Mob! Loki x female reader

18+ | contains smut, alcohol, unprotected shmex

You brought your glass to your lips, hips swaying a little as you felt the music reverberate through you, each sip lowering your inhibitions enough to smile at the stranger eyeing you from across the rooftop. Your gazes had met a few times now, neither of you approaching the other as the people around you continued to move intoxicated in tandem, dancing to the music. When one of your favourite songs began to play, you couldn’t help the pull of the melody leaving you throwing your shoulders back as you danced, singing along with the rest of the crowd. The scent of alcohol mixed with perfume was carried around the rooftop by the swift evening breeze, engulfing you in a feeling that could only be described as nostalgia; you were happy you came out tonight.

“It seems like he likes you.” Nat spoke, finding you in the crowd again after topping up her glass and noticing the strangers gaze on you.

“Who even is that?” You replied with a small scoff not having realised she had noticed.

“Loki.” She stated as if it was common knowledge.

“Okayy.” You answered apprehensively.

“Loki Odinson.” She clarified leaving you no closer to recognition.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” You chuckled at her seriousness.

“One of the Odinson brothers” she began, eyes rounding “they’re notorious mobsters y/n, you’re not seriously telling me you don’t know them.” Nat stressed, eyes almost pleading with yours.

“I don’t.” You replied truthfully as she looked over your shoulder.

“Well it seems you’ve definitely caught the younger ones attention.” She smiled.

“What?”

“He’s coming over.” She continued excitedly.

“What?” You gasped again before she spun on her heels, turning away from you.

“And what pray tell are you drinking tonight?”

You quickly spun as you heard the deep, sultry voice in your ear before you were met by the man from earlier who you now knew as Loki Odinson going on what Natasha had said. She walked behind him, flashing you a thumbs up before disappearing again.

“Pornstar Martini.” You answered, your eyes staring into his emerald ones. They were even more dreamy up close. Your eyes ventured to his hand as he raised it, clicking his fingers in the air before a shorter man appeared next to him.

“The lady would like a pornstar martini.” He spoke, eyes fixed on yours.

“And for you sir?” The man answered.

“Bourbon, on the rocks.” He replied before the man dismissed himself leaving you and Loki alone again.

“You could have gone yourself.” You spoke, breaking the silence that had settled between you both.

“I could have.” He agreed.

“But you didn’t.” You stated.

“I did not,” he smirked, “keen eye.” He added, making you smile too. “I like to pride myself on my observance, meaning that I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t danced with anybody all night.”

“You’ve been watching me?” You giggled.

“I have an eye for rare beauties and my my” he started, eyes trailing over your body “you are rare.”

“Subtle.” You teased his blatant eye fucking of you. Before either of you could say anything else, your drinks arrived. You took your martini, bringing the glass to your lips as you took a sip, Loki doing the same to his drink. His eyes searched for yours over the rim of his glass, busy eyes relaxing once they met yours. You bit your lip, allowing yourself the pleasure of checking him out now, your gaze lingering on the exposed hair on his chest peaking through the two undone buttons of his shirt. He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that, all the way from the shine of his inky locs to the polish of his leather shoes. His body language exuded confidence, the arrogance of his status leaving you slightly flustered especially when you noticed his eyes mapping you again.

“So, do I at least get a name?” He questioned.

“Do I?” You bit back causing him to smile.

“You’re funny” he laughed as you narrowed your gaze in confusion “you’re serious.” He murmured, causing you to shrug “you must be from out of town.” He decided.

“Maybe.” You smiled knowing you didn’t live far from where you both were right now, definitely in town. “Give me your name and I’ll give you mine.” You bargained.

Swigging his drink again, Loki finished it before swallowing thickly.

“Loki odi—just Loki.” He answered.

“Y/n, just y/n.” You replied.

“Well just y/n, care to dance?” Loki offered, taking your hand.

“Lead the way just Loki.” You grinned.

His hands were large, that much was obvious as you felt them roaming over the contours of your body. This was a man who was used to getting exactly what he wanted and judging by how he pulled you against him, his chest firmly against your back as his hands caressed your hips, tonight, he wanted you. Drinks came in abundance, the both of you almost daring the other to make some kind of move. Eventually his lips caught up with his hands as he pressed kisses against your neck leaving you resting your head back against him as your eyes closed. One of his hands moved across from your hip to your torso before it moved slightly lower, resting over your stomach as he gently nibbled on your earlobe leaving you reeling. When his hand ventured back up, cupping your breast, the realisation that you were in public made you open your eyes quickly only to be met by Natasha who was across the rooftop giving you a thumbs up. You couldn’t help but smile.

“How about I take you on a tour of the city?” Loki suggested as you spun to face him.

“Maybe I’ve already seen the city.” You replied cheekily.

“Not from my limousine you haven’t” he winked “we’ll have a really good time.” He continued, hand stroking your side.

“I’m not looking for anything long term.” You warned, desperately wanting to ease the ache between your thighs without consequence.

“I’m not the commitment type.” He smirked. You bit your lip, about to reply before you saw Nat mouthing GO from over his shoulder.

Moments later you were kissing each other hungrily from the secluded inside of Loki’s limousine after he told his chauffeur to just drive. His ravenous lips found your neck, kissing you there roughly. His hand found your cheek, his thumb caressing it as your hand moved across his body. He was hard, extremely so, leaving you almost salivating when your hand reached the bulge in his trousers. His lips found yours again before he sucked in a sharp breath feeling your hand moving along his clothed erection. You eventually undid his button, freeing his length before bringing your hand to your mouth, breaking the kiss to lick it. Your eyes met as you lowered your now moist hand again, running it along his shaft. His eyes fell closed, head resting back against the seat as you stroked him, your hand tight around him. Your name fell from his lips in pleasured whispers making your smile grow and your heated core throb.

When you stopped, you were kissing again, Loki pulling you on to his lap. Your dress rode up your thighs as you rolled your hips against his, the lace of your thong driving Loki insane as it moved against his sensitive member. Unable to continue the teasing, you reached between you both, pulling your panties to the side as Loki guided himself towards your entrance. The both of you moaned as you lowered yourself onto him, the stretch filling you with carnal delight.

“Fuckk.” You panted, Loki’s arms wrapped around you tightly as he thrusted up into you. The limousine was quickly full of the sounds of you both satisfying each other as well as the aroma of alcohol and sex. Neither of you cared that the driver could hear, the only thing that existed in that moment was the two of you.

City lights passed you, the colours illuminating in the car as goosebumps spread across your body. Loki looked up at you, hands holding your hips firmly as he continued fucking up into you. Feeling yourself nearing your peak, you took over, stealing your pleasure as you bounced above him, your hands finding his shoulders as your eyes closed. Loki’s expression changed to one of awe as you took over, as you used him, centering yourself and your bliss. The thought left Loki almost quivering as he felt your walls tightening around him before you both came loudly.

You stayed like that for a few moments, perfectly still as Loki spent himself inside of you. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him only to notice his eyes had glazed over as he looked up at you.

“What’s the matter?” You asked amused.

“N-nothing I just—” Loki stuttered.

“What?” You smiled, cupping his cheek.

“You’re trouble.” He answered as the limousine came to a stop in traffic.

“Says you, Odinson.” You whispered in his ear leaving him shocked as you got off of him, ignoring the mixture of your arousal that was beginning to trickle out of you before opening the door and leaving.

Still taken aback, Loki hollowed his cheeks as he watched you walk away.

“You’re going to be a problem y/n” he spoke aloud, smiling to himself “a problem I’m going to enjoy dealing with.” He finished.

The following morning, you made your way into the kitchen to grab a coffee before you spotted Nat saying goodbye to the guy she had bought home last night.

“Bye Steve.” She smiled.

“Yeah, bye Steve.” You joked before he left, Natasha playfully scowling at you.

“So, how was last night for you?” She questioned before the door knocked.

“Did Steve forget his boxers or something?” You laughed, answering the door only to be met by a large bouquet of roses. You took them before reading the note inside.

Morning trouble

Someone care to explain why it’s summer and I’ve got an awful cold? Because everyone’s talking about the titanic etc, in my fever dream I was on it 😭 feeling a lot better now though, got through the worst of it. I apologise for any mistakes, my excuse is that I’m half dead 😘

Tags:

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

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #loki fanfiction #tom hiddelston loki #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki au #mob au #mob loki #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson

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windrsr · 1 year

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How would your OCs react to receiving a love letter from their darling? Especially a lovey dovey one~

Male Yandere OCs x Gender Neutral Reader

Tw: Stockholm Syndrome

•Henry (Doll Maker) - He smiles as he reads the letter. He's entertained and amused by this letter, and he appreciates your efforts. In return, he makes a little doll that looks exactly like you for to keep. "One day, you will know just how much I love you," he murmurs.

•Micheal (Scientist) - Surprisingly, he chuckles at the letter and keeps it in a locked place. Usually when you show him any kind of affection, he pushes you away. You figure that he was in a good mood, since he didn't throw away the letter like he was expected to. He comes to you and lifts you by your chin, "oh, my little pet. You've grown deeply attached to your owner, haven't you?"

•Miru (Living Doll) - He can't even finish reading it because he's blushing so much. He tries to write you a love letter, but it looks like a book rather than just a one page letter...He gives it to you and he tells you he's happy that you return his feelings.

•Ryan (Test Subejct) - He reads it twice; is this really happening? He thinks. Tears form in his eyes, and he smiles at the letter before holding it close to his chest. He doesn't know how to tell you how much he appreciates this, because at the same time, he thinks he doesn't deserve such a wonderful letter.

Aaron (Best Friend) - He's surprised but delighted; he wasn't expecting you to love him more than a good, best friend! Regardless, he knows that you want to be with him, and only him, and he won't miss this chance to finally claim you as his now that you love him more than a friend. When he's in a bad mood, he takes out the letter and reads it as a reminder that he is "loved".

•Loki (Creature) - He reads it in silence, and then stares at you when he's done. He rubs his scent all over you, but not in a "I love you too" type of way, it's more of a "since you love me, you're stuck with me forever" type of way.

•Samuel (Fatherly) - He smiles gently and he's flattered. But he's also feels so appreciated. He wasn't expecting anything in return, but this is all he needs to feel loved by you. He hugs you and tells you just how much he appreciates you.

•Tyler (Bounty Hunter) - He doesn't know what to feel or say, besides feeling awkward about it. He doesn't mean this in a rejection type of way, but in a "Oh my god, I never experienced this before" type of way. But he knows the letter has a special place in his heart.

•Liam (Submissive/Darling) - Finally, you responded to the hundreds of love letters he sent you over the last few months! He's absolutely delighted, beyond excited. He reads the letter everyday, over and over again, and keeps it in a safe place where it can never be touched by anyone else. As soon as he sees you, he tackles you with a hug and kisses you all over your face.

•Asher (Singer) - He blushes and feels a strange warmth in his heart; this is totally different from all the love letters he receives from his fans. When he gets love letters from his fans, he sighs like it's nothing new. But coming from you, it feels like a special gift. In return, he makes a "love" song about you, and sings it to you in private.

•Unknown (Secret Admirer) - He's pleasantly surprised. He wasn't expecting you to even send him a love letter back after all the gifts, text messages, and voice mails he's sent you. After all, you've been ignoring him for so long. You will communicate using love letters from now on, he decided.

#{all of them}#yandere oc #male yandere #yandere boy #yandere male #male yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling

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writtenfangirl · 1 year

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Miracles

WOWZA THIS IS A DOOZY

I’ve written longer fics but this one’s pretty long too! 7623 words long.

Anyway, ENJOY!

“Why do you hate me?”

Y/N looked up and blinked in surprise, the paper she was sketching on momentarily forgotten.

“What?” Y/N managed to say cooly.

“You hate me. And don’t deny it,” Loki said quickly when he saw Y/N open her mouth to refute Loki’s statement. “You speak to me in clipped tones and you have never, not once, looked at me with anything but contempt in your eyes. What have I done to deserve your ire?”

Y/N pursed her lips before she slowly closed her sketchbook, her pencil stuck between the pages. She gathered all her strength as she stood up, raveling her breath like spun thread before she met Loki’s deep penetrating gaze.

There was fire in her eyes, a searing well of hate so deep that it took him aback. Loki could have drowned in her hate as easily as it could have burned him.

“2012,” Y/N said evenly without so much as a hint of heat in her tone. “74 people were killed in the Battle of New York. In the grand scheme of things, 74 lives lost are pretty good odds considering that millions of people lived in New York. We were told to be grateful to the Avengers for saving our lives. It’s hard to be grateful when everyone I loved died that day.”

And before Loki could react, Y/N had walked away.

It seemed, her ire was well deserved.

“So you hate them as well?”

“What?” Y/N asked, no longer bothering to hide the irritation in her voice. Her brow furrowed in annoyance, her lips slightly parted as air whooshed in and out in controlled even breaths. Her sketchbook was once again momentarily forgotten with Loki breaking through her once peaceful reverie.

“You said, ‘We were told to be grateful to the Avengers for saving our lives. It’s hard to be grateful when my whole family died that day.’ Those were your exact words.” Loki said, pulling up the chair across from Y/N despite her deep scowl telling him not to. “Your words imply that you hate the Avengers and, by extension, my brother. If there is anyone to be blamed for your family’s demise, it should be them. Their inadequacy caused the death of 74 people. And yet, here you are, a part of the very institution you despise.”

Y/N was such in a deep state of shock that for a moment, she forgot to be angry. Was he really blaming the Avengers for her family’s death? Then the rage began to settle in her. Her blood became hot, her skin suddenly feeling the hard bristles of anger poke within her as if her emotions were fighting for release. “What? You think I would blame the Avengers for what happened to my family?” She released a harsh bark of laughter, one that had Loki’s hair rising on end.

“I would have assumed—“

“You assumed wrong,” Y/N said viciously, any sign of mirth in her face replaced with cruelty. The fire in her veins was singing now, a savage song of nails and broken glass that had Y/N’s breath hitching in her throat.

She could throttle him, she thought. She could actually wrap her fingers around the god of mischief’s neck and squeeze as hard as she could and no one would be the wiser. The compound was currently empty with the rest of the team off on a mission, leaving only Y/N and Loki alone in their base of operations. Y/N had thought that with the compound being as large as it is, it would be more than easy to avoid Loki but it seemed, the god of mischief was eager to seek her out. If she killed him now and buried his body in the woods, no one else would know. She could kill him and she would do it with alacrity, she thought to herself.

Judging by Loki’s earnest face, he seemed oblivious to Y/N’s murderous thoughts. Maybe he just didn’t care.

Y/N took a deep shuddering breath. Even though Loki deeply unsettled her, he was still Thor’s brother. Thor likely wouldn’t appreciate it if Y/N went and offed his brother. In a fair and even fight, Loki would likely be able to fend Y/N off all by himself but Y/N rarely fought fair. She was a survivor and if there is one thing every survivor knew it was the futility of trying to fight fair. Life was never fair and a person should never limit their options by trying to be honorable. You fight with everything that you’ve got with anything you can reach and with whatever thing you can do, consequences be damned.

She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. She packed her stuff as she spoke in the hopes that maybe keeping her hands busy would mean that she would be unable to kill Loki.

“The only person to blame for New York is you,” Y/N huffed as she slammed her sketchbook shut. She gave Loki a steely glare. “The Avengers were the good guys. You weren’t. If there is anyone to blame for what happened to my loved ones, it would be you.”

And she walked away one again before Loki could say anything.

The chair across from her scraping against the floor had Y/N’s eyes rolling so hard, she was sure she saw her brain inside her head. Only one person would bother her while she was trying to finish her sketching.

“Loki, I would like to be left alone, please.” She said the words coldly, her voice unflinchingly hard. She kept her gaze steady on her pencil as it moved around the page, the shavings darkening her fingers as she used it to shadow and shade her drawing.

She really didn’t want to deal with Loki right now. Any time Loki came to speak to her, her memories attacked her, consuming her very thoughts until all she could think about until the wee hours of the night was her family. Reliving those memories were a special kind of torture Y/N wouldn’t wish on anyone, not even Loki.

But Loki didn’t leave her alone. Instead, he sat in the chair across from her, silent.

Y/N didn’t so much as acknowledge him. She couldn’t make him leave, that much was true, but she could ignore him.

“I wasn’t myself.”

Y/N’s pencil stopped on the page, her eyes still wholly focused on her drawing but her ears trained on the god before her. She waited for a breath and then another, her mind counting the seconds before Loki decided to speak again.

“I wasn’t myself when I attacked New York.”

Y/N glance up at him, an unreadable expression on her face. Loki’s face seemed impassive, his mouth set in a tight line, his eyebrows without any creases. But his eyes, so impossibly blue, swam with an emotion Y/N couldn’t describe. There was sadness there, yes, and perhaps there was even a little bit of regret but most of all, there was anguish.

Yes, that had to be it. Anguish. Anguish so deep and haunting, it was like seeing a tortured ghost in a haunted house. It would have been frightening had it not been so sad. She’d only seen that look on someone’s eyes on one person before and it was every time she looked at herself in the mirror.

He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were downcast and faraway, his mind in the thrall of whatever unpleasant memory made him look so haunted.

“I do not know if you are aware of the history I have with my brother but I can guarantee, it had not been easy.” Loki said, his voice even, betraying none of the sorrow in his eyes. “When we fought for control over Asgard, I fell off the rainbow bridge and found myself in Thanos’ presence. He…” Loki hesitated, his eyebrows creasing. He cast a glance towards Y/N and when he saw that she was listening intently, he continued. “I was tortured. The knowledge of how long I was tortured was kept from me. A hundred years could have passed and I would never know. All I knew from my time with him and his brood was excruciating pain. There isn’t a day that goes by when I do not regret my actions in New York but they were the actions of a scared and broken man. It does not excuse me, I know but I am sorry, for whatever my apology is worth.”

Y/N often imagines what grief would look like if she decided to draw it. She could easily draw happiness, it was sunshine and flowers in bloom, the thawing of ice as spring began to awaken. She could draw anger, all broken glasses and smashed windows and fire consuming everything it touched. She could imagine envy, silken green sheets that wrapped around a person’s throat, stealing the breath out of a person’s lungs. She could even draw sadness, the image of a sputtering flame, smothered by a torrential rain. But she could never imagine grief. It was hard to imagine something abstract to compare it to when she saw grief in her face every day.

Right now, if she tried to draw it, all she would see was Loki’s face. His face turning soft, almost disheartened, a singular tear falling from his eye, as solitary as he most likely felt.

It was the first time Y/N saw him without any hint of his usual bravado and somehow, that thawed something in herself.

Her own eyebrows furrowed, a frown dashing the once impassive expression on her face. She gently closed her sketchbook before her hands reached across the table and clasped Loki’s hand around her own. He looked at their clasped hands, his skin pale against the darkness of the pencil shavings in her hands and Y/N could almost note the exact moment when hope crept in his face like a trickle of water.

“I forgive you,” Y/N said softly.

And before Loki could say anything, Y/N was already on her feet, rushing towards her room in an effort to hide her fast beating heart and the rock that lodged itself in her throat.

Forgiveness was no easy thing, of that Y/N was certain. It left her breathless, the memory of the event, sitting in the kitchen table, Loki’s mournful eyes, replaying itself in her mind like a movie.

She has forgiven him. She was sure of that.

But the anger that had become a leech in her life suddenly didn’t know where to go.

It felt like a beast trapped under her skin, a slithering monster constricting around her heart, fangs pierced through it and continuously pumping out copious amounts of venom, filling her with wrath.

It was funny how her powers manifested itself as fire, flames consuming everything around it. Her rage felt like that. Fire consuming anything good she could ever feel, would ever feel, in her life.

With a scream of rage, her arms swung, the fire that erupted in her fingertips flying through the air in a graceful arc that hit the target square in the chest in an explosion of sparks and flame. It consumed the target, its heat licking at the plastic of the dummy until it became a melted mess on the floor.

“Someone’s angry.”

Y/N spun, her anger momentarily forgotten as she stared at Loki, who’d been watching her from the entrance of training room.

“I must admit, it’s nice to see your anger directed at something other than me.”

Y/N turned her back to him, another crackle of flame erupting from her fingertips as she hit another plastic dummy with a blast of fire.

“Silence,” Loki noted as if Y/N’a silence was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Loki’s voice was starting to become grating. She wanted to be alone, as she always wanted to be when she was training.

Unfortunately, Loki didn’t get the memo.

“I thought you’d forgiven me.”

Another dummy went up in flames.

“I have,” Y/N said, her tone clipped and devoid of emotions.

“And yet, you are upset?” Loki’s words ended in such a way as if he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the answer to his own question.

“Not with you.”

It was the most Y/N could say before she sent another dummy into its burning grave.

“Then with who?”

Y/N sighed. She wasn’t sure why she was so angry and in truth, she wasn’t really angry at anyone. She just needed an outlet to release all of her negative emotions and she’d rather kill plastic dummies than hurt any of her friends in a sparring session.

Y/N turned to Loki, ending her session for the day. Hurting defenseless dummies wasn’t doing anything for her rage anyway. “I just have a lot of negative emotions and I needed an outlet. Better I hurt these dummies than my friends. I’ve burned them enough times to know how painful it is to fight with me.”

“Have you burned my brother too?” Loki asked with a wry smile.

“Him more than most,” Y/N answered with a small smile of her own, “he always thinks he’s some kind of indestructible god so he always steps up to the plate whenever I need to train with someone. Unfortunately for Thor, fire hurts more than lightning. He’s been burned so often, it’s a miracle he isn’t covered in scars.”

“Asgardian skin is tougher than you Midgardians think.”

Y/N simply shrugged. “My sparring partner needs to be more than just indestructible. They need to be fire proof.”

At that, Loki seemed to smirk. “Perhaps I can be of assistance. Has my brother ever told you of what I am?”

“Frost giant, right? Not really Asgardian.”

Loki nodded. “I am a prince of Jotunheim. It lends me abilities that most do not have. We are creatures of ice, you see. Your fire would have no effect on me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’d like to offer up my services as your sparring partner. If you’d have me, that is.”

Y/N considered this. Though she’s forgiven Loki, there was no denying that she was still upset with him. After all, she is only human and she lost her family because of his actions. It would take a saint or even an angel in order to truly forgive Loki for everything he’d done.

And she was anything but an angel.

“Alright then,” Y/N said as she walked towards the center of the room, “let’s see what you got, Loki.”

Loki seemed surprised at Y/N. “You wish to train with me now?”

“No time like the present. Now are you going to fight me or not, Loki?”

Loki stared at her as if wondering if she was truly serious. After finding Y/N’s face devoid of heistation, his pristine black suit transformed into full Asgardian fighting leathers as he walked towards Y/N, his skin shifting into a frigid blue, his eyes an enchanting red.

Y/N didn’t so much as blink at the strangeness of his alien form. She’d seen scarier and stranger aliens and Loki’s vaguely humanoid features was enough to remind her that underneath all of the strangeness was still Loki.

“You should know, Loki, I don’t let up,” Y/N said as she crouched, her body poised and graceful like a jungle cat.

“Let up?”

She often forgot that Loki and Thor were Asgardian, unfamiliar with Earth’s little turn of phrases. Seeing his brows brought together, his faced scrunched up in thought at her words had a wry smile stretching her lips. “It means I don’t stop until I win.”

At that, Loki grinned. “I should hope not. I would like a worthy fight, after all.”

“You never did say how you got your abilities.” Loki’s voice filled the quiet space, sucking Y/N out of her reverie.

Her eyes snapped towards him, heavy with lethargy. “What?”

“Your abilities. Midgardians aren’t born with the ability to control fire.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped towards the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the flurry of snow fall from grey sky. Loki and her sat on one of the expensive couches Tony purchased for the compound, a roaring fire crackling on the fireplace, their only source of light. They were alone again, the compound empty save for the god of mischief and the peculiar human. The team had decided to spent the holidays in their respective homes and with Y/N being alone and Loki refusing to come home to Asgard for the winter solstice, the pair had been forced to spend the holidays with each other.

It wasn’t as unbearable as Y/N initially thought. After the hours they’d spend training with each other, Y/N’s contempt at being around Loki had thawed. It wasn’t gone by any means but it wasn’t as bad as it was before. She can have a civil conversation with him now without feeling the urge to stab him in the chest.

She couldn’t remember the last time she spent Christmas with someone other than herself and if Y/N was being honest with herself, it was nice to not be lonely for a change.

Today, she woke up feeling better about herself in days, good enough that she even had the energy to put up a Christmas tree.

Well, she only had half the energy and so the tree was bare on one side and the side that did have decorations was a little disorganized but in Y/N’s defense, she hadn’t decorated a tree in years.

In fact, despite how unappealing the tree looked, it looked pretty against the orange light of the crackling fireplace and the backdrop of the falling snow.

“I don’t think you’d like the story of how I got my powers,” Y/N muttered, leaning forward to grab her mug of mulled wine. It had gone cold quickly despite the roaring fire but it wasn’t anything Y/N couldn’t fix. Her hands easily warmed up the beverage, heating it up until steamed danced in the air before her.

“I am bored and I will welcome any story you tell no matter how horrendous you think it to be.”

Y/N glanced at him, her previous feeling of tiredness melting away. She suddenly felt on edge by Loki’s words. What was it about Loki that had alarm bells pealing in her head despite her best efforts to remain calm?

She took a sip of her mulled wine, the alcohol like a shot of liquid courage straight to her veins. She placed the cup back down to the coffee table before facing Loki, who was looking at her with a peculiar expression.

“If I tell you this story, you have to swear to me that you would never repeat whatever I say to another person.” Y/N’s eyes flashed in severity, one that had Loki’s interest piquing.

Loki simply nodded, his own face losing the once mirthful expression upon seeing Y/N’s own seriousness.

Y/N took a deep breath, a faraway look gleaming in her eyes as she began to tell her story.

“I was always ambitious when I was a kid. I had big dreams for myself, the biggest dream being that I could follow into my parents’s footsteps. They were scientists, you see. The best in the world. So good in fact that SHIELD gave them grant after grant to continue their research. They were thermonuclear scientists. My parents thought that they could find a way to infuse the power of a nuclear bomb to people.

“I always thought their jobs were so cool. I strived hard to be as good as them, as smart as them. I graduated high school at the age of 15 and college at 18. I received my PhD for Physics and Chemistry when I was 22 and I worked under my parents ever since.

“On the day you attacked New York, I was away on business and on the way home for my birthday. They planned a party for me, my parents, my sister and even my friends were all there. Everyone that I loved was in our little loft, waiting for me to arrive from the airport after my plane was delayed. Then you attacked and they died and—“

The ball that lodged itself in Y/N’s throat left her silently gasping. Talking about New York, about her family and her friends, about how much she lost that day, always brought a fresh wave of tears in Y/N’s eyes. It didn’t matter how many years have passed since the genesis of her grief, her grief was a monster lodged in her heart, hissing and spitting poison at anyone who tried to dislodge it.

Something in Loki’s eyes shifted. He reached for her and Y/N briefly wondered if being comforted by Loki was what she wanted.

Before her mind could make up a response, her body acted instinctively. Her body seemed to cave in, allowing Loki to briefly touch her cheek to wipe away the solitary tear that rolled down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Loki whispered, his eyes full of sorrow tinged with regret.

“Anyway,” Y/N said hastily, wiping away her eyes despite Loki’s frown. “I threw myself into my work and completed my parents’ life work. Unfortunately, there isn’t a long line of people willing to be turned into a nuclear explosion and so I buried myself underground and experimented on myself. Not exactly something I recommend. After three days of pure agony, I emerged and became a completely different person. Contacted Nick Fury as soon as I realized what I became and I’ve been working with the Avengers ever since.”

Loki was silent for a while as he processed Y/N’s words. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

Loki frowned, as though to say, isn’t it obvious? “How do you act as though your past doesn’t haunt you? I saw you when we first met. You hated me. There is no other word for the fire in your eyes. But you never said a word to the others about how you felt and even after I stayed here, encroached on your space, pestered you with questions about the past that you would rather forget, still you never said anything to the others in the hopes of relieving yourself. Why is that?”

“I distinctly recall yelling at you several times.”

“You said plenty to me but not to them. Not to your friends. Not to the people who could easily cast me aside and turn me away whether Thor wants them to or not.”

Of all the things he could have asked, that was the one she least expected. She lifted a shoulder in response. “I don’t know. I’ve spent a lot of my time dwelling on the things I wish I could change. The past… it sucks and it’s messy but I can’t do anything about it anymore. I can only control the now, change the today. I figured, since you joined us, you’d want to change too. Who am I pass to judgement on you because you want to change?”

Loki looked as though he wanted to argue with her and so Y/N spoke again before he could. “Enough talk about me. Tell me about you.”

If Loki was jarred but Y/N’s sudden change in topic, he didn’t show it. But she did get the lingering sense that their conversation wasn’t over.

“You wish to know about me?” Loki said with an eyebrow raised in question.

She nods. “It’s only fair, I think. I say something about me, you say something about you.”

Loki seemed ti hesitate before he spoke. “What would you like to know?”

“Do you have a girl back home?” She didn’t really want to know but it was the only thing her mind could conjure up at the moment.

“A girl?”

“Or is it a boy?”

Loki grinned at that. “Neither. I have no one. I am… alone.”

“Really?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

Yes. No. Y/N wasn’t sure. Loki was handsome, too handsome really. Thor once told her that the Royal family was good looking, even by Asgardian standards and though Y/N had never seen Odin or Frigga, she had to agree with Thor the first time she saw Loki. Not only was Thor incredibly good looking, but Loki was too. But he was also the god of mischief and he couldn’t have been too popular back in Asgard.

She shrugged. “I figured there has to be at least one person you’ve fallen in love with before.”

“There has been a few individuals,” Loki said slowly. Like he’s picking out the right words to say. “Near immortality is too long to bear it alone. But, as of this moment, no. I don’t have anyone. Do you?”

At that, Y/N let out a derisive snort. “I’ve never even been kissed before.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Well believe it because it’s true.”

“I don’t understand,” he said with a quizzical frown, “I have seen how you act when you think no one is watching and your soul, despite the anger that resides in you, is one of the purest I’ve ever met. Surely someone else has noticed you.”

Y/N quickly stamped down the warm heat that blossomed in her chest at Loki’s compliments.

“I’m not exactly beautiful. I’m pretty much average in the looks department.”

“You Midgardians and your shallow definition of beauty,” Loki said with a frown.

She raised an eyebrow, almost in challenge. “Why? Do you think I’m beautiful?”

“Yes.” The word tumbled out of his lips as quickly as if he were saying the sky was blue. Like it was an absolute truth of the universe that couldn’t be contested. The sun was a giant ball of gas, the grass is green and Y/N was beautiful.

Fighting the rising blush in her cheeks, Y/N shrugs again. “I’ve never really found anyone worth it before.”

“Oh?”

“I want love, I do. I want the kind of love that could stop war in its tracks. The kind of love that is both the disease and the cure. I want the kind of love that could cheat death and breathe life into the earth. I want the kind of love that people write about in books. But I’m not stupid. That kind of love doesn’t come too often and I refuse to settle for less. I know what I deserve. I am not afraid of loneliness but I am afraid of wasting my time.”

“I thought you humans believe that it is better to have love and lost than to never have loved at all?“

“Most people do,” Y/N said as she took another sip of her mulled wine, ignoring the creeping flush on her cheeks. “I don’t.”

A thoughtful look passed over Loki’s features as he contemplated her words. Y/N wasn’t entirely sure what that meant so she continued sipping her mulled wine, still warm in her hands.

The quiet was nice. The crackling of the roaring fire, the warm scent of the candle she’d previously lit filled the room with the scent of Christmas. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the laughter of old Christmas mornings with her family filling her.

For a moment, she almost forgot Loki was there and it was his voice that startled her out of her reverie.

“Do you think I’m a good person?”

She peered at him through a single eye, past her lashes. Despite the blur, Y/N could see that Loki’s eyebrows were furrowed into a frown, his mouth almost pouting as he looked at her expectantly.

“Does it matter, what I think?”

“It does to me.”

That had Y/N’s eyes snapping open.

“Your opinion of me matters very much.”

“Why? Why do I matter?”

Loki raised his shoulder in a shrug. “If someone who I’ve hurt—have taken everything from—can still think I’m worthy of redemption, then perhaps, I am.”

“God, what is with you and Thor and worthiness. I’m going to have to have a talk with Odin about drilling worthiness into his sons heads.”

“Y/N.”

She let out a sigh. “Alright, if you want my opinion so badly.”

“I do.”

Y/N let the mirth from her face drop. “I think everyone is worthy of being redeemed, even you. Especially you. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. Shame coats this building thicker than paint. All of us who have ever lived in this building, have done things we regret and yet people call us heroes. Imagine how much they’d love you when they forgive you.”

“Do you think they can forgive me?” A look of hope filtered through Loki’s face, lighting up his features. Against the orange glow of the crackling fire, it made him look beautiful.

“I think that if I can forgive you, then they can too.”

Slowly, the Avengers began to trickle back into the compound. She greeted her friends with open arms, feeling lighter than she had in days.

Spending the holidays with Loki was a more pleasant experience than she initially thought it was going to be. After their… talk (it was more like a heart to heart, really) Y/N could comfortably be around Loki without wanting to tear her hair out of her head or cry or punch something.

In fact, in the rare occasions she could find some time for herself to draw, Loki was there, watching her in silence. Sometimes, he’d bring a book with him, a Midgardian book more specifically. Y/N wasn’t sure what he was reading, as Loki always magicked the book’s cover away into a generic leather-bound tome but he seemed to be enjoying it.

It was a little awkward at first. Truthfully, she found the parallels of their past situation hilarious. Wasn’t it only 6 months ago that Y/N was yelling at him for the murder of her loved ones at this very table? But it’s been nice, too. Quiet. Almost peaceful.

And that’s where they sat today, Loki and Y/N. It had been a grueling week of mission after mission and Y/N was thoroughly exhausted. So much so that Steve had even ordered her to stay in and rest while the rest of the team dealt with the problem alone.

Not that she was complaining. Time alone was rare and though she wasn’t technically alone, what with Loki mere inches away from her, it was still time she treasured.

He was reading again. His eyes scanning through the words on the page, his face almost earnest as he devoured his book. The sound of the pages of his book turning sliced through the quiet scraping of Y/N’s pencil against her sketchbook.

She’d been staring at him for the past fifteen minutes, her sketch momentarily forgotten, her eyes trained on the Asgardian whose eyes were furiously going from one end to the other of his book.

She wondered how long she’d have to stare before Loki finally realized that she’d been watching him.

Apparently, long enough for Y/N to grow impatient.

“Loki, what are you reading?” She asked, head cocked to the side in question.

Loki tore his eyes from the page almost reluctaantly. “Pardon?”

She fought a wry grin. “What are you reading?”

His once open face, turned sharp. Red tinged his cheeks, his smiling lips suddenly pursed, his eyes wide in… was that embarrassment? “Nothing.”

Oh it’s definitely something. “Loki, you look like a fourteen year old kid who was caught shoplifting. What are you reading?”

Loki slammed the book shut, schooling his face to be as still as stone. The only thing giving him away was his reddened cheeks. “Nothing of your concern, Y/N.”

“Ah. Is it smut? It’s okay if it is. I promise not to tell.” She said in an attempt to goad him into some kind of reaction.

But rather than reacting the way she thought he would, Loki’s brows pulled in puzzlement. “What is smut?”

Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to particularly describe that to Loki. “Never mind. I’m not sure I’m ready to get into that with you. You’re reading a Modgardian book?”

“Yes.”

“Do I happen to know this book?”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her and she watched, almost in amazement, as he stood up and walked away without another word.

“Are you seriously just going to ignore me?” Y/N called out, almost gobsmacked.

“Enjoy your sketching, Y/N.” Was Loki’s only reply before he disappeared from the dining room and into the living room.

“And then, he just walked away from me like a petulant child!” Y/N exclaimed, her hands flying everywhere as she recanted the story to Wanda and Natasha. “It was the weirdest thing ever!”

Natasha smirked. “Sounds like someone I know.”

“Oh please,” Y/N said with a derisive snort, “I have never walked away.”

“I don’t know about that, you do it quite often,” Wanda chimed in teasingly.

“Yeah, Y/N. You tend to avoid confrontation.”

“I do not.”

“Suuuuure,” Natasha said before shooting Wanda a knowing look.

“Besides, who even taught Loki about Earth’s customs and literature.”

“I did,” Wanda said, causing Y/N eyes to snap to her in surprise.

“You did?”

“Yeah. He came to me for help. He said he wanted to get to know Earth more. I lent him some of my books.”

“What were the books you lent him?” Y/N asked, a morbid sense of curiosity seizing her.

“The classics. Austen and Shakespeare to name a few,” Wanda replied with a shrug. “I lent him some modern books too but all I had were romances. I even managed to get him to read the bible. I wasn’t sure if he’d be interested but he took them from me anyway.”

A giddy smile spread across Y/N’s face at the thought. “You lent him romance books?”

“And the Bible?” Natasha’s eyebrows shot straight to her hairline in surprise.

Wanda nodded. “I did. He didn’t really like the Bible but he seems to be enjoying the romance novels. He gives it right back after he’s done with them so he can start another one. Finishes about three a week. I’m actually running out of books to recommend.”

“I didn’t realize he’d like reading romance books,” Natasha quipped.

“Neither did I.” And the grin that spread through Y/N’s lips could only be described as mischievous.

“You could have told me you liked reading romance books, you know,” Y/N fought the teasing smile that threatened to erupt from her lips.

Loki feigned indifference as he glanced at her from the top of his book. “I haven’t the faintest clue what you are talking about.”

“Jigs up, Loki. Wanda told me you’ve been borrowing books from her.” She pulled herself a chair, sitting down next to Loki, the image of casual grace.

“Now I understand your previous irritation with me upon my interrupting your reverie,” Loki muttered with an eye roll.

“I didn’t take you for a romantic,” she said, ignoring his jibe.

Loki didn’t so much as react, his eyes focused intently on his book.

“It’s alright, you know,” Y/N continued, ignoring Loki’s indifference. “I like romance books too. I enjoy them immensely.”

Y/N could almost feel Loki’s hesitation. “I quite like Austen.”

“She’s one of my favorites. My mom’s too,” Y/N grinned. “Though I prefer Pride and Prejudice to my mom’s Sense and Sensibilities.”

“I’m partial to Pride and Prejudice as well,” Loki said evenly. “Though I find many of its characters irksome.”

“Lemme guess. Mr. Collins, Lydia and maybe even Lady Catherine?”

“To name a few.”

“So what possessed you to start reading Midgardian romance novels?” As she said this, she maneuvered her chair until she was facing Loki, her legs coming up to rest on his lap almost absentmindedly.

If Loki was bothered by Y/N’s sudden feeling of comfortableness around him, he didn’t show it.

The seconds that passed before Loki spoke again had Y/N briefly wondering if she should repeat her question. “You once told me that you want the kind of love people write about in books. I wanted to see what that love meant.”

Of all of the things Loki could have said, that was the one Y/N least expected. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Care about what I want.”

“Truthfully, I do not know,” Loki’s face was troubled, as though the very idea of caring about Y/N was concerning to him. But then he smoothened his expression with finality, as if in the span of a few seconds, he had come to accept that he truly cared for her.

Y/N didn’t know what to make of it and she ignored the fluttering butterflies that roiled in her stomach.

“I have come to care for you, Y/N,” Loki’s voice was soft and low, like Y/N was some wounded bird with a broken wing who needs soothing. He leaned forward earnestly, encroaching on her personal space. “I do not know when my heart decided to care for you or even why. I do not even know how you have accomplished where so many others have failed. But I do know that I care for you.”

“You care for me?” Y/N echoed dumbly.

“Most ardently.” Loki’s hand reaches for her, his knuckle brushing the hollow of her cheeks before his thumb glided across her open lips. “My body craves you, do you know that? It seeks you even when my mind does not. Every time I enter a room, I find myself looking for your familiar figure. When you laugh, it is the sound of my world hurdling through its axis. And when you smile at me… not even the explosion of a thousand suns could describe the warmth that burns in my chest at the sight of that smile.”

Y/N’s mouth was still hanging open at Loki’s words, her eyes wide and gobsmacked.

“I once thought you beautiful,” Loki’s eyes darted to her lips. His pupils were blown, the black like an island in the middle of a vast sea. “Now I know there are no words in any language to describe what you are. Your Midgardian customs, they are foreign to me. But I would gladly become a scholar and learn them all if it means learning you.”

Y/N had to swallow down the lump in her throat. Her tongue darted to her lips in an attempt to stave off the dryness but Loki’s heated gaze turned burning at the sight of her tongue.

She didn’t like how he made her feel, not after he said those things to her. But she would be a liar if she ever said she wasn’t the least bit affected by them.

She was too affected by them.

If this is how Lucifer felt before he fell then, my god, Y/N would have rebelled against Heaven too.

But rather than saying anything, Y/N quickly pushed Loki away, swiping her legs out from his lap and ran out of the dining room.

She left the matter alone and now it is a festering wound ripe with infection.

Loki’s been stealing glances whenever they were in a shared room and so she’d spent her free time holed up in her room, only leaving when her needs call for her or her job demands that she leaves.

She hadn’t spoken to Loki in a week and when she told Wanda and Natasha what had transpired within them, all her two friends din was smirk at each other.

“What?” Y/N demanded, her face pulled in a scowl of annoyance.

“Just that you proved us right again.” Natasha said nonchalantly.

“You ran away from him. That is avoiding confrontation.” Wanda added.

“I didn’t run away.”

“Pretty sure you did.”

“Nat!”

Nat raised her hands placatingly, further irritating Y/N. She was sitting by the desk in Y/N’s room, watching as Y/N wore the carpet down with her pacing.

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Wanda said.

“I know that,” Y/N said with a groan as she plopped on her bed next to Wanda. “I don’t know what to do.” Right now, all she wanted to do was hit something and with her avoiding Loki, she didn’t have her favorite sparring partner. It was enough to drive her nuts.

“Why not be truthful?” Natasha suggested. “How did Loki’s confession make you feel?”

Natasha’s question was enough to give her pause. She hadn’t actually thought about her emotions all that much.

Truthfully, Loki’s confession had her emotions racing. She couldn’t understand how she went from hating him, to reluctant allies, to liking him enough to be friends to this. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure what this was.

How did Loki make him feel?

There was only one answer to that question and upon realizing her feelings, she ran out of her room, ignoring Natasha’s irritated grumble. “There she goes again.”

Her feet ran throughout the compound, searching room after room for Loki’s familiar figure.

She felt like a thousand butterflies were ready to burst from her chest. Like laughter had been bottled up inside her for years and was finally yearning to be uncaged. Hers was a monster finally feeling the sun on its face for the first time in its life and she didn’t want to cage it again.

She skidded to a stop upon seeing Loki’s familiar figure, resting on one of the dining room table chairs.

The golden light from the setting sun hit him from all angles, casting him in a glow that softened his features. His body was relaxed, his breathing even but his eyes were far away. Y/N wasn’t even sure he noticed her watching him. But despite how quiet she was, something broke his reverie and his eyes slid towards her. It lit up in surprise at the sight of her and he stood up quickly. Loki’s lips began to form the first syllable to Y/N’s name but she interrupted him before he could.

“You make me feel alive.”

Loki paused, Y/N’s words silencing him.

“I am not a poet,” Y/N said, ignoring her fast beating heart, eyes focused on the man before her. “I don’t know how to use words like you can. I don’t know how to describe how I feel but I do know this. When I’m with you, I feel alive.”

Loki’s eyes widened in surprise at her words. He took a step towards her, one that had Y/N taking a step back, hands flying up to stop him. “I’m not done.”

Loki simply pursed his lips and let Y/N continue.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “When I’m with you, I feel alive. And… it scares me. I have never felt this way about anyone before and a part of me hates that of all the people I could have fallen for, it was you. You, who have hurt me more than anyone in this universe has. You have the power to hurt me even more than anyone ever will. And it scares the living crap out of me. I am terrified.”

Loki took another step forward and the look in his eyes had Y/N taking a step back, arms held out before her. As if to placate her, he bowed his head, attention to his feet but his ears still trained to her.

Without Loki’s penetrating gaze, the words came easily. They tumbled down from her lips like the dying leaves of autumn, falling slowly at first before you look up and realize just how bare the trees look. “I am terrified of the hurt and the pain. I am scared that you’ll make me feel alive and once you leave, you’ll leave me for dead. I can’t do that again. I can’t lose people like that again. But I am so tired of running. If I’m not too late and you’re still willing to try out whatever this is, then I am too.”

Ignoring her thundering heart, Y/N took a deep, shuddering breath. “You can say something now.”

But Loki stayed silent and Y/N’s pounding heart sounded like war drums in her ear.

“Loki?”

At his name, he looked up grinning like devil. He threw his head back, eyes trained to the ceiling, as if silent prayer. His lips were moving silently, saying words in a language Y/N couldn’t decipher. The glow from the windows made him look like an angel and it left Y/N breathless.

He finally met her eyes and his expression was lighter than she’d seen it in days.

“Loki, are you praying?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I am,” Loki confirmed as he closed the gap between them. “I do not believe in your gods but your words may finally convert me to religion. It’s nothing short of a miracle, I think, to hear you say what you said.”

“Funny you say that, I keep thinking you look like some kind of ethereal angel.”

“Angel? Darling, I am the furthest thing from it.” Loki was so close now, Y/N could feel the permanent chill emanating from his body.

“I know. I still think you look like one.”

He clasped his hands around her, that light smile on his face never leaving. It had the heart in Y/N’s chest thudding so fast, it was almost hard to count the beats.

“Thank you,” Loki said and Y/N knew nothing could wipe the grin off of Loki’s face at this very moment. “I am still unfamiliar of your Midgardian customs but I believe that in a situation such as this, confessions of love end in a kiss. May I kiss you?”

That elicited a laugh out of her ans Loki’s already light expression became even more joyful. “What I would do to hear you laugh like that everyday.”

“Yes, Loki. You can kiss me.”

And so he did.

306 notes · View notes

sheliesshattered · 6 months

Text

Sylki fic: When She Sings She Sings Come Home

Loki/Sylvie, 3200 words. Post s02e06 fix-it, angst with a happy ending. Also available on AO3 under the same title and username.

When She Sings She Sings Come Home

Sylvie wakes with Loki’s voice in her ears.

It’s been months since she last saw him, striding out to the Loom to save the timelines. Winter has come and gone, here in this little corner of a branch that she’s made her home. Every day that’s passed, she’s half expected to turn around and see him standing there, like that night he appeared in the parking lot next to her truck. But for months, there’s been nothing but the absence of him, growing larger and more crystalline every day.

She wakes with his voice in her ears, singing that ridiculous song from the train on Lamentis.

To Sylvie, everybody! he’d said, grinning at her, not drunk only too full. She would give anything to see him smile like that again. She would give anything to see him again.

And it isn’t that she hasn’t looked. Of course she had. She’d barely gotten through a single shift at McDonald’s after leaving Mobius standing outside his variant’s house before she’d used He Who Remain’s TemPad to try to find Loki.

He wasn’t dead. She knows he isn’t dead. But he also isn’t anywhere. There are an infinite number of branches now, layers of reality twisting around each other into something larger, a shape she can almost see, almost recognize. But Loki isn’t on any of them. No matter where she searches, he remains just outside her grasp.

Sylvie goes to work, she drives her truck home, she listens to music at the record store, she checks in on Mobius, she tries to sleep. But everywhere is marked by Loki’s absence, and every moment is overlaid with the sound of him singing.

She can’t find Loki, but that song is a thread she can pull at. Where did he learn it? The words were almost Asgardian, but not quite. Something similar, a branch of the original. A variant. Because of course it was.

It’s not until she thinks to quietly spy on the New Asgard settlement in Norway, forty years on from her quiet life in Oklahoma, that she hears the language again. Norwegian.

Remember this place, she hears Odin say, in a memory that is not hers, rippling through the interwoven timelines because it is what she needs in this moment. Home.

She turns her back on New Asgard, on the man who is almost but not quite her brother, on the Valkyrie who will come to lead their people like the hero out of a saga that Sylvie had once wished she could become. She turns her back, and walks into this strange, beautiful land. Norway. One tiny place on one tiny planet in one insignificant branch of the ever-growing tree of time, where the syllables are shaped into words that resonate with Loki’s voice from so long ago.

Sylvie wanders into pubs, into taverns, into bars, into concerts. She hums the few notes that never leave her head, and hopes to find someone who knows the song.

Until, miraculously, one day, she does.

“It’s an old drinking song,” the bearded man at the bar tells her, gesturing with his beer. “It’s about taking the long way home, but knowing you’ll get there in the end.”

“Can you teach it to me?” Sylvie asks, unblinking, gaze trained on the stranger’s face.

“For that, I will need a lot more beer.”

So she buys him beers. She coaxes the song out of him. She buys rounds for the whole bar, until they are all singing it. They teach her the words in Norwegian, teach her to shape the vowels as carefully as any incantation, and then teach her the meaning behind the words.

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair

and sings, “When will you come home?”

“You, I think,” her drunk bearded acquaintance says to her, “you are the maiden fair.”

“And what if I am?” Sylvie asks, raising her chin, still dead-sober despite the bourbon clutched in her hand.

“Then you must sing for him to come home!”

“From an apple orchard, if you can manage it,” leers his friend next to him.

“Will it work?” she hears herself say.

“Of course it will work! Music is magic. Galdr, they used to call it, in the old religion. The power of your voice to shape reality.” The man is drunk, but his words tug at something in Sylvie’s memory, long buried. “Sing, and he will come home.”

“As simple as that?”

The bearded man laughs uproariously. “When has love ever been simple?” he demands jovially. “When has magic ever been easy? But that does not mean it is not worth trying. There is beauty in the trying. There is love in the longing.” He’s slurring his words, barely managing to stay atop his barstool.

But he’s not wrong.

I know what kind of god I need to be, Loki had said, tears shining in his eyes. For you. For all of us.

But Sylvie is a god, too, she reminds herself, as she tosses back her bourbon and turns her back on the little Norwegian town, with the northern lights rippling over head. She’s not the goddess of chaos anymore, and she hasn’t felt mischievous since she was a child.

But the goddess of galdr, yes, that perhaps is something she could be.

She returns to her little Oklahoma town, cloud cover obliterating the stars, and drives her truck to the record store. There’s only one song she wants to hear, only one voice to sing it, but music has been her comfort since she came to this place, and she cannot simply become the goddess of music-turned-into-magic because she wishes it to be so. Music has been her shield, her cocoon, her comfort these long lonely months. Now she must learn to form it into other shapes, into weapons and tools. Into a lighthouse, shining out into the vast dark of the multiverse.

She taught herself enchantment, while running for her life from one apocalypse to the next. She can teach herself galdr in this quiet little record shop in this quiet little town.

Sylvie slides the headphones into place, and lets the music move through her.

Oh, sweet nothin'

She ain't got nothin' at all

Oh, sweet nothin'

She ain't got nothin' at all

But what if she had something? What if she had the one person who would make all of this worth it?

I know what kind of god I need to be, she tells herself. For you, Loki.

She murmurs the words along with the music, infusing them with intent, with magic.

And for one fraction of an instant, she can see him.

He’s alone, on the throne he never wanted, surrounded by the threads of the multiverse, pulsing green as they grow and twist. There is nothing, nothing else, only Loki alone in that vast emptiness, in that expanse of everything that ever was or ever could be.

His eyes are dull, unfocused, far away. And then— a flicker of recognition, a spark of life—

Sylvie loses the connection.

She’s alone on the sofa in the back of the record shop, with Lou Reed singing in her ears.

He ain’t got nothing at all

She drives home. She tries to sleep. She keeps hearing Loki’s voice, keeps seeing him alone in that emptiness. She murmurs into the darkness— not quite a song, not quite a spell—

But trees dance and waterfalls stop

When she sings, she sings “come home”

There is a shape to the enormity of what Loki has done. There is an order to the way the branches of the multiverse wrap around each other. It is just outside her grasp, but Sylvie feels that if she could just see the shape of it, she might understand.

She might be able to reach him.

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone she whispers to the emptiness of her tiny apartment, in this tiny town, in this little branch of a timeline, one miniscule part of a greater whole, and falls asleep dreaming of trees dancing, of waterfalls stopping, of Loki taking her outside the flow of time to tell her that there was no other way to keep her safe.

Sylvie wakes with her own voice in her ears.

The song is coursing through her, jeg saler min ganger, and she can feel the magic at her fingertips, on the tip of her tongue, pushing at the insides of her ribs, swelling her lungs and begging to be released.

I know what kind of god I need to be.

She gets into her truck and drives. North and east, away from everything she knows, vaguely towards those northern lights dancing over the fjords, too far away to reach on roads such as these.

But once upon a time, when she was very young, there was another road. A rainbow road, the Bifrost, that could take her anywhere just like magic.

Every bit of magic she has now she has taught herself. And this, too, this song swelling in her chest, is magic of her own making.

There is beauty in the trying. There is love in the longing.

She drives past fields of wheat and fields of corn, through days and nights, with the glare of the sun or the pattering of the rain against the windshield. Sylvie drives and drives and drives, and keeps the song tucked away inside her, growing in fury like a hurricane in a bottle, like the storm that had raged outside the night they met.

She drives until the scent of apples wafts through the open windows of the truck, and then she pulls over, knowing this was her destination all along.

Iðunn, a childhood memory whispers, too long ago now to have any meaning at all. The apples of eternity.

Home she thinks, and then hears, from a memory not her own:

Asgard’s not a place, it’s a people.

This could be Asgard. Asgard is where our people stand.

Her brother’s voice. The voice of the man who had once raised her as his daughter. The family she lost and can never regain, no matter what shape the multiverse twists itself into. Words reaching across time, across branching timelines, to reach her here and now, because it is what she needs to hear.

Sylvie climbs out of her truck and walks into the apple orchard and doesn’t look back.

She walks until she can no longer see the road from between the trunks and branches. She walks until there is nothing but the smell of apples, the soil under foot, and the sky over head. She walks until the song finally bursts out of her, all of her desperation and loneliness flooding out of her lungs to shake the very air around her, in the shape of words that are his but also hers, now.

But trees dance and waterfalls stop

When she sings, she sings “come home”

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair

and sings, “When will you come home?”

But trees dance and waterfalls stop

When she sings, she sings “come home”

When she sings, she sings “come home!”

And then he is there, standing beside her in the sunshine and the scent of the apple orchard. Loki glances around at the trees dancing in the wind, his eyes bright, before his gaze snaps to hers.

“You’re here,” Sylvie croaks, her voice burned through with the force of the magic that poured out of her, the magic that’s brought Loki to her.

“No, not really,” he says, his eyes never still as they trace over her face. “I’m still there too. I’m sort of everywhere, really. It’s hard to explain.”

“Help me to understand,” she says before the words even have the chance to fade away. “You said you knew what kind of god you needed to be. You saved us, you saved everything, and then you disappeared. Make me understand.”

“I can’t, Sylvie,” Loki says gently, and there is a sorrow in his eyes deeper than oceans, more boundless than the vastness of space. “It’s been centuries for me. Lifetimes. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Enchant me, he had begged her once, standing in the McDonald’s parking lot in his ridiculous TVA uniform. You can see what I saw.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she tells him, raising her hands slowly towards his face, green magic flickering between her fingers. “Just let me see what you saw.”

“Sylvie,” he starts, and there are tears in his eyes again, like there were in that last moment before he turned his back on her to destroy the Loom.

“We’re the same, remember?” she says, and if her voice cracks it is only because of the abuse it’s suffered, only because of the magic that poured out through her vocal chords to shape reality to her desires. “You shouldn’t have to bear this burden alone, Loki,” she tells him, with as much tenderness as she can force into her ruined voice. “Let me understand.”

“It was the only way,” he says, as if in warning, but Sylvie cups his face in her hands before the tears can fall from his eyes.

Centuries. Lifetimes. The same day, over and over again. Reality unspooling, starting with Victor Timely and ending with her, again and again. Their fight in the Citadel at the end of time, relived hundreds of times, always with the same ending. Always the death of He Who Remains, and the unraveling of everything, failure after failure after failure.

And yet in all of them, she does not kiss him. And he cannot bring himself to kill her. Until only one choice remains.

I know what kind of god I need to be. For you.

Sylvie watches in Loki’s memory as the temporal radiation burns away his TVA uniform, as his magic replaces it with something older, something primal, something true. She watches as he grasps the decaying branches of the multiverse and breathes life into them, wills them to live, to be whole and part of a whole.

She watches as the branches twist around each other, each variation of the timeline finding support in its neighbors, building into something greater than the sum of every moment of every timeline that has ever existed.

She sees the shape of what Loki has done, the enormous, infinite tree dancing in the nothingness outside of time. Yggdrasil, the worldstree, green and glowing, alive and growing, all because Loki willed it so. To restore freewill and safeguard it forever. For all of us.

His hands cover hers and Loki gently pries her fingers away from his face. “Enough, Sylvie. Enough. I know what I’ve done.”

There are tears on her face, the apple-scented wind plucking at the wetness as she stands there, staring at Loki. Even without the enchantment, she can see him sitting on his throne, alone but for the infinite tree he tends.

“It was the only way?” she asks in the ruins of her voice. It is only when he folds his hands around hers that she realizes she is shaking, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Not like dancing. Like shattering, collapsing in on herself with the weight of what he’s done.

“No,” Loki admits. “There was one other way. I could have left He Who Remains in charge. I could have let the TVA go back to pruning the timelines. But I would have had to kill you. I would have had to kill you with my own hands, and watch as you died, and then betray everything you ever believed in. I lived every variation of every action I could possibly change, but not that one. Not that.”

“You don’t even know me,” Sylvie blurts out before the words have fully formed in her mind. All of this, to save her? She cannot, she cannot—

Loki’s expressive face twists, stung by her words, hurt in this moment even beyond the deep sorrow that he wears like a cloak. “Of course I know you,” he says, wounded, his gaze searching her face. “Like I’ve never known anyone. Sylvie, I lov—”

She surges up onto her toes and kisses him, there among the apple trees. She kisses him for what he’s done, for what he refused to do. She kisses him for the loneliness they have both known far too much of, she kisses him for coming when she sang for him to come home. She kisses him because there is nothing else she can do, because there was never any other way for her, either.

And Loki kisses her in return, with a desperation borne of years, centuries, lifetimes of facing this alone. He kisses her in the apple garden, as the trees dance and the waterfalls stand still. He is there, kissing her, but also somewhere else, far away and outside time, tending to the tree that he gave his life to save.

“I can’t stay,” he says when they finally part, pressing his forehead to hers, his hands cupping her jaw in an echo of how she had enchanted him moments before. “I want to stay, more than anything, Sylvie, but I can’t, I can’t.”

“I know,” she assures him, even as she clutches at his robes for fear he will disappear at any moment. “I know you can’t stay here with me,” she says, then takes a deep breath to steady her ragged voice, her thundering heart. “But you don’t have to be alone.”

Loki pulls away abruptly, only far enough to see her face, confusion pinching his features.

“We’re gods, you said,” Sylvie explains, tripping over her words, her voice trembling with the weight of what she has already done, the weight of what she plans to do. “We have a responsibility. That’s what you told me, in that ridiculous room full of pie. We can’t just give everyone freewill and then walk away.” She offers him a small smile, the best she can summon at the current moment. “You have to sustain Yggdrasil. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I did this for you,” he says, holding on to her as desperately as she is clutching at him. “So you could have a life. That’s what you said you wanted, to live.”

“It’s freewill, Loki,” she says, shaking her head. “You can’t just give it to everyone and then be surprised when I use it to choose to be with you. I know what kind of god I need to be. You taught me that. I won’t let you bear this burden alone. That’s the kind of god I choose to be.”

“I can’t let you sacrifice yourself for me—”

“The only sacrifice would be giving you up.”

He gazes at her for a long moment, his uncertainty slowly transforming, then sings softly, “I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene,” and this time Sylvie understands the words. “Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem. I eplehagen står møyen den vene, og synger: ‘når kommer du hjem?’”

The apple orchard dissolves around them, replaced by the rippling greens and blues and purples of Yggdrasil, shimmering in the darkness outside of time.

“Home,” Sylvie says, and kisses him again.

72 notes · View notes

roostersmustache · 4 months

Text

Songs of Silence, One

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Author's Note: Hello guys! This is totally different, as most of you are used to my Rooster fics! But, I've gotta be honest. I've been a Loki fan far longer than I've been a Bradley Bradshaw fan, and with season two of Loki out and about (I've watched it three times), I'm hyper fixating on the God of Mischief right now! So, I hope you guys enjoy, and I hope I can reach some more Loki fans out there!

Synopsis: Ingrid was born the goddess of song. Her voice was unmatched in talent. When using her voice one evening, her voice suddenly leaves her, leaving her completely mute. Seeking out help in finding her voice, she's led to a fortune teller, who offers her more than she initially bargained for.

Warnings: None of this is accurate, Swearing, adult themes, angst, possible MCU spoilers, possible Loki spoilers.

Word Count: 5.4k

Masterlist

Being born a goddess in Asgard came with lots of fabulous parties, countless gowns and jewels, and lots of mingling with the other Gods and Goddesses Asgard housed. Ingrid had been born the goddess of song, her musicality bringing peace and prosperity to Asgardians. She could heal broken hearts with her songs, put one to sleep with her songs, and compel those to her will with her songs.

She was a kind and beautiful goddess, her name even meaning "beautiful woman." Because of her kindness, she never used her compelling voice to lure those to their deaths, or have them do as she pleased. She only used her voice for good, and it brought so much harmony to Asgard.

Her talent was unmatched on every level, and Asgardians were willing to pay her thousands to teach their offspring even a sliver of what it meant to sing like her.

But she never shared the secrets of her voice.

There weren't any secrets to be shared. She was born with her gift, and never had to work to make it better. It was the epitome of a perfect voice.

So perfect that many wanted it for themselves.

Ingrid had to be cautious of who she trusted enough to get close to her. The wrong person with the right spell could take her voice from her. While no such spell was easy, magic was a well practiced craft in Asgard, and someone highly skilled in magic could, with the right research, take her voice from her.

Her talent was mystical, and she most often used it for healing purposes. For example, when a family member passed away, people would come to her and ask for a song to ease their pain. She had a way of letting the spirits sing through her, and her songs were able to make grief easier.

Ingrid was the youngest of the Gods. She was only nineteen in Midgardian years, the sons of Odin beating her by a miniscule two years.

Ingrid lived in the castle, and she saw the royals as her second family. When she was a young girl, her parents, also Gods, were killed by the Dark Elves, so she was left orphaned. Odin and Frigga took her in, and she grew up alongside Thor and Loki.

She grew up knowing her and Thor were to be married once she reached the age of twenty. Her and Thor had grew up close, but she knew, deep down, she'd never be able to love him like she was supposed to. They say everyone has their person, and she knew Thor wasn't hers. She did love him, just in a friendly way. But she knew she'd have to bear his children, so she tried to be attracted to him, but it never worked the way it was supposed to.

"You look beautiful today, my darling," Thor said as Ingrid grabbed his arm.

They were headed to a feast to celebrate their marriage, as the wedding was set to be a month away.

"Thank you, Thor," she replied, smiling at him.

When the couple entered the grand dining room, they were greeted by cheers from all the Asgardian people in attendance. Ingrid smiled, waving at her friends, and following Thor before the two took a seat at the head of the table.

"Thank you, to all my lovely people," Thor boomed, the room going quiet. "And thank you," he started, gazing over to his fiance. "To my beautiful bride-to-be for everything. I'm the luckiest man in the nine realms to get to marry you."

Everyone at the table swooned, Ingrid looking over and giving Thor a smile. He raised his glass and everyone followed suit, a toast in order.

"To love!" Thor cheered.

"To love!" Everyone else cheered.

Ingrid just raised her glass, she didn't say anything else. A part of her mourned the fact that she'd never be able to find her true love. She only hoped that one day her heart would come to love Thor the way that a lover should.

She took leisurely sips of her wine, laughing at someones joke every once and awhile. She loved the people of Asgard, and she knew it was the highest honor to become their queen, but her heart longed to love. It longed to be loved by an all consuming love, one that challenged her and thrilled her, excited her in ways she never even knew possible.

But she'd never get the chance to find it.

"What about a song from the lady?" A man said, standing up and motioning his glass towards Ingrid.

"Oh," she stuttered, caught off guard by the request.

"Yes," another man piped up. "A song from the goddess to bless her marriage!"

"I mean," she blushed. "I don't have anything prepared."

"What could the goddess of song not have prepared? Sing us something!" Another man boomed.

"I don't know, I mean, I don't really think I have it in me to sing right now," she sheepishly replied.

"Oh come on, darling," Thor smiled. "Sing us something."

"I don't really want to," she said to Thor, giving him a tight smile.

Ingrid never liked to be put on the spot, and Thor knew that. But she also couldn't deal with disappointing people, so saying no wasn't something she was good at. Thor also knew this.

"Aw how come?" Thor boomed, obviously a bit drunk, as he smiled down at her. "Bless us and our marriage with a song!"

"I don't- Thor, I didn't prepare to sing anything," she said, silently pleading with him to let it go.

"You're the goddess of song," he emphasized. "You don't need to prepare anything," he smiled.

Ingrid often had anxiety around being put on the spot, as she liked to have a sort of mental preparation. Ingrid suffered from a severe case of PTSD, which contributed to her severe anxiety.

When she lost her parents, she was ten years old. She watched as the dark elves stormed into her home and brutally murdered both of her parents in front of her. They only missed her because she hid in her parents closet.

The images of her parents being killed stayed with her, haunting her.

It's safe to say her anxiety was prominent in her life.

"Thor," she started whispering. "Everyone is looking at me, I don't think I should sing right now."

"C'mon darling, everyone loves your voice! I mean look at them," Thor said, gesturing to the group of people in the dining room, looking excitedly at their goddess of song.

"I don't want to," she said.

"Ingrid, you're the goddess of song, I don't understand-"

"The lady said she didn't want to sing, therefore she won't," a voice said from the back of the dining hall.

The voice in question came from none other than Thor's brother, Loki. Ingrid and Loki had always gotten along. He understood her traumas, since he had found out he was adopted a couple years back.

Her and Loki had grown up never too close, but never distant either. They would often just sit with each other and read in the library. He always kept to himself, but he always tried to be out of his brothers shadow as well. Ingrid had always found Loki fascinating, his magic so strong yet himself so quiet. But when he did have something to say, it was always well worded and intelligent.

When Loki spoke up, the entire dining hall went silent, and all eyes gazed to him. He was dressed in his more casual Asgardian leather, yet nevertheless eye catching. His hair was slicked back as it always was, his black curls resting on his shoulders.

"Ah, brother!" Thor announced. "How wonderful of you to join us!"

"How could I ever miss such an occasion?" He sarcastically remarked, his hand landing over his heart.

As he walked to the table to take a seat, he made eye contact with Ingrid, who mouthed a 'thank you' to him. He just nodded and smiled back at her.

The rest of the party went on as they all do; they ate, Thor and his friends had too many beers to count, and the others mingled together. Ingrid felt overwhelmed by the noise and commotion in the room, so she wandered out to the garden. The gardens were her favorite place in the castle, the flowers and plants always having a way of soothing her. Freyr always did wonders for the gardens.

Her favorite was the Dreamshade plant, an Asgard specialty. It was beautiful when it bloomed. Next to the Dreamshade plot of the garden was a beautiful wooden, white swing next to it, hung by a tree. Ingrid would often find herself out there reading.

She sat down on the swing and started to rock back and forth. She sipped on the wine she had carried with her, the liquid making her warm with each sip she took. The breeze encapsulated her, sending a chill down her spine.

She heard the boom of Thor's laughter from inside and took another swig of her wine. She was supposed to be Asgard's blushing bride, they're grateful queen to be. But instead, she's sitting in the garden, away from her own party for her own marriage, fighting back tears. She was orphaned at ten, and months after she had been taken in by the king and queen, she was betrothed to Thor. Her future had been written for her before she was old enough to fully harness the concept of true love and marriage.

And she did, she did love Thor. They had grown up together. Just as she loved Loki. But Thor never made her feel the way her friends' partners made them feel. They'd all talk about butterflies, feeling giddy. All she felt was a longing for something she didn't have.

She wished her voice could cure her own sadness.

"Ingrid?" Came the voice of Loki. He had found his way out to her at the gardens, slowly walking up to her as to not wake her.

"Loki," she gasped, breaking out of her trance. She then noticed the tears that had fallen down her face, quickly wiping them away.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, coming to sit next to her.

"I don't know," she said. "I didn't even realize I was."

"Is everything alright?"

"Nothings alright," she whispered. "I just, I feel hopeless and, I don't know. I'm sorry, I've had too much wine," she hiccuped.

"It's okay, we've all had too much wine," he grinned.

"It's good wine."

"It is indeed."

Her and Loki sat in silence. They let the breeze wash over them, and they let the smell of the flowers consume them. Ingrid was drunk, and she knew this because she felt like she could go up to Thor and tell him she didn't want to get married to him. At the end of the day, she'd never do such a thing, but the fact that it was even a thought she had confirmed the wine had done it's job.

The wine was also making her think things she shouldn't be thinking at all.

Looking over to Loki, she let her eyes wander over his smooth features, and the sharp curve of his jaw. He was sculpted perfectly, and on Midgard, they liked to say handsome men looked like "Greek Gods." Loki wasn't a Greek God, but he was a God.

Ingrid had always had a crush on Loki. He was charismatic yet smart. Funny yet serious, and mischievous at the same time. He always excited her, made her stomach knot when he teased her. He made a blush arise to her cheeks that never appeared for anyone else.

But she never let this crush get the best of her or distract her from what she was supposed to be focused on.

The wine allowed these thoughts to push through, though.

"I don't think," she started. "I don't think I wish to marry Thor."

"What?" Loki asked, his head snapping to her.

"I don't love him like that."

"I don't understand," Loki said, his brow furrowing. "You two have always been in love."

"It's been fake," she said, taking another gulp of her wine. "For me, at least."

"Ingrid-"

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you all of this. I should," she hiccups. "I should get to bed."

As she tries to stand, Ingrid's wine glass falls out of her hands, smashing on the ground. Her legs start to wobble, and before she knows it, she too is falling to the ground. Loki is at her side in an instant, catching her before her head hits the grass.

"Ingrid, darling," he gasped at her. "You've got to be more careful."

"I'm sleepy," is all that she mumbles, her eyes rolling shut.

"Okay," Loki says, hoisting her into his arms. "Lets get you to bed then."

Loki proceeded to carry her out of the garden and around the side of the castle to a side entrance, wanting to keep people from seeing them in this state together to prevent gossip. Through the corridors and up the stairs leading to her room, Ingrid was giggling at random things that she saw.

Once Loki got upstairs to her room, he carried her inside and gently placed her on the bed. She sighed contentedly when she felt her plush covers beneath her, melting into her mattress. She slowly blinked her eyes open, grinning when she noticed Loki looking down at her.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

"Yes," she sighed. "Thank you for bringing me up here."

"Of course."

"Loki?" She piped up, sitting up on her elbows. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," he replied, taking a seat on her bed.

"Will everyone despise me if I don't say yes to Thor at the altar?"

She watched as Loki's expression softened, his head tilting to the side. She didn't want to cause a fuss, but she couldn't see herself living a long and prosperous life with Thor.

"Ingrid," he started. "Where is this coming from? Everyone thinks the two of you are in love."

"I've never gotten to explore any romantic interests of any kind because i've always been promised to him. But I don't love him like that. I've tried, Loki. He's not the one for me."

"I don't know if you have much of a choice, darling," Loki says, his lips flattening into a disappointed straight line. "What Odin wants, Odin gets."

"He's not the one that I want," she whispered, staring at Loki intently.

His brows furrowed and then relaxed again. Ingrid knew that her remark was suggestive, and would definitely be something she regretted saying the following afternoon. But as per the wine, it felt very appropriate to say.

"I suppose if your suitor of choice is as high of rank as a God to be king, Odin might not have as many complaints."

"He's something like that," she sighed.

Loki began to respond to her, but he was stopped by two sharp knocks on her door. She gave Loki a puzzled look, and he gave her a puzzled look back, neither one of them knowing who could be at the door.

Loki stood and went to the door to open it, and when he did, it was revealed to be Thor on the other side. Loki moved aside to let his brother in, and Thor's eyes immediately went to Ingrid.

"There you are, darling. Are you alright?"

"Yes, just sleepy," she replied, her eyes blinking slowly.

"Why did you escort my lady to her bed chambers without letting me know?" Thor asked, turning to his brother who stood silently in the corner.

"Because she was passing out in the gardens and I didn't want anyone seeing her in such a vulnerable state," Loki replied.

"Passing out in the gardens?" Thor said, whipping around to look at his bride lying on the bed, still in her evening gown.

"I've had a bit too much wine," she said, pinching her fingers in the air as an example of how much wine she's had.

"Why did you even leave to the gardens in the first place?" Thor asks.

"It was loud," she sighs.

"I'm sorry, darling. I know me and my friends can be loud at times."

"Very loud," she annunciated.

Ingrid pushed herself up off of her bed and stumbled into her closet and grabbed one of her silk nightgowns, walking back out and throwing it down on her bed. She started undoing the pins in her hair, feeling immediate relief at the release of tension in her head. The two brothers stood there watching her, and she stopped her motions to give them both a quizzical look.

"What?" She asked. "Have neither of you seen a lady get ready for bed?"

They both stuttered out sorries as they started to exit the room. Thor crossed over to Ingrid and kissed her cheek, whispering a goodnight to her. She caught Loki's eye by her door, and she gave him a small smile. He nodded back to her. The two brothers exited her room, and once she heard the door click she brushed her dress off of her shoulders.

Once she was ready, Ingrid slipped under her covers. She could still feel the alcohol coursing through her veins.

Before her parents passed away, her mother would sing her a song before bed every night. It stuck with her, and sometimes the goddess would sing it to herself before bed, just to imagine her mother there with her. Tonight was one of those nights.

Ingrid felt helpless, her marriage to Thor was rapidly approaching, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She needed her mothers advice more than anything. So Ingrid sang her song.

Nuku, nuku nurmilintu, Väsy, väsy, västäräkki Nuku nurmelle hyvälle Vaivu maalle valkialle. Lintu tuopi liinahapaijan Haapana hyvän hamehen Kaskeloinen korvatyynyn Pääskynen peäalusen Nuku, nuku nurmilintu Väsy, väsy, västäräkki Nuku nurmelle hyvälle Vaivu maalle valkialle.

Ingrid sang her song louder than she's ever sang it before. Usually she would sing it as a whisper, only to keep for herself. But she felt (probably because of the wine) that everyone needed to hear it. And everyone did hear it. Everyone in Asgard heard their goddesses song, and they heard the pain and longing in her voice as she sang. It was vulnerable, and it was beautiful.

And it lulled her and the entire kingdom to sleep.

Ingrid woke the next morning to being shook by her shoulders.

As she opened her eyes, she saw Thor, Frigga, Loki, and a few castle healers surrounding her on her bed. Thor was shaking her awake, concern written all over his face. Everyone looked worried, and Ingrid looked quizzically back at them.

"What?" She asked, worried as to why everyone was so concerned about her.

"Ingrid," Thor said. "Ingrid, are you alright? We've been trying to wake you for an hour. It's one in the afternoon."

Ingrid shot up at that, looking to her clock to confirm the time. She had never slept that long. Wine wouldn't do that to her either, as she's had her fair share of drunken nights far worse than the one she had last night.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I did that," she said, but the people surrounding her just looked more confused.

"Ingrid, darling, what are you saying?" Frigga asked, taking a step closer to her."

"I'm asking-," She started, but she realized that not a single sound was coming out. "Can you not hear me?"

"Darling, we can't hear you," Thor said. "You're just moving your mouth."

All of the blood drained from Ingrid's face as it hit her all at once.

Her song.

She sang her lullaby last night in a very drunk and vulnerable state, making her an easy target. And she was loud. Everyone in the kingdom heard her sing. And someone had done the one thing she had feared.

They had taken her voice.

As soon as it clicked in her mind, her eyes locked to Loki's, and she could tell that he had made the same observation.

"Someone took her voice," he stated, his eyes never leaving hers.

"That's impossible," Thor said, standing up.

"Oh no, it's quite possible, brother," Loki stated, his hands clasped behind his back. "A strong sorcerer heard her song last night, and the vulnerability behind it, and used the right spell. Her voice is gone."

"That cannot be!" Thor boomed, pacing around the room. "Who dare strip my bride of her Godly power?"

"Thor," Frigga said, walking over and comforting her son. "Whoever did this to dear Ingrid will be punished. We will find them."

"What are we supposed to do, mother? She's a goddess, and she's lost her ability. People need her," Thor said.

"She is more than just her gift, my son. She will help her people in incredible ways without her voice."

"Mother, she is the goddess of song. Not the goddess of kindness. She is not a goddess without her voice," Thor stated, blankly.

To hear Thor say this about her, in her bedroom, made her mouth run dry. It was as if she wasn't in the room to him. It was hurtful, and she had never heard Thor speak of her in this way.

"Thor," Frigga scolded. "You know better than that."

"She is not worthy of Asgard's throne if she cannot serve her people like she so promised!" He yelled.

The room fell silent, and Ingrid drew her knees up to her chest to hug them, tears freely falling from her eyes. The only thing that could be heard throughout the room were Ingrid's quiet sniffles, and everyones eyes turned to her when they started.

Thor's eyes immediately softened when he met her teary ones, guilt racing across his face.

"Ingrid, my darling," he started, walking up to her. "I didn't mean it, I'm so sorry-"

But he was cut off by Ingrid's hand shooting up to stop him. He bounced back, hurt flashing across his eyes.

"Ingrid," he pleaded.

She shook her head in response, as no sound would leave her vocals.

"You should go," Frigga said.

"Mother," he said, looking over to Frigga.

"No, Thor. You've done enough damage, it's best for you to go."

With a sigh, and one last regretful look at Ingrid, Thor walked out of her room. Once he left, Ingrid's shoulders started to heave, sobs wracking through her body. She had just woken up, and it was so much to process. She hadn't even gotten the chance to full realize her voice had been stolen from her before the man she considered one of her best friends and was supposed to marry started hurling insults about her in her own bedroom.

Frigga sat down on her bed and pulled her into her. She combed through her hair and whispered sweet words to her to calm her down. Frigga was the closest thing Ingrid had to a mother, and she made her feel better when she needed a mom.

"We will overcome this, my darling," Frigga said. "We'll find whoever took your voice from you. You are no less of a goddess this morning than you were last night. I'm truly sorry for my sons words."

"It's okay," Ingrid said, or tried to say. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, and just nodded back at Frigga instead.

"Loki," Frigga said, motioning for her other son. "Why don't you entertain our girl with some of your magic? Or perhaps a card game? You two used to love to play together."

Loki gave his mother a small smile and nodded his head at her.

"Of course, mother," he replied.

"Thank you, my boy. She is in need of a friend."

Frigga exited the room, along with the healers, leaving Ingrid alone with Loki. She sighed before looking at him, his eyes swiftly meeting hers. The silence was uncomfortable. There were so many things she wanted to say to him. She wanted to apologize for her actions and words last night, she wanted to confide in him about her tumultuous love life, and she wanted to tell him he was the one that she wanted. But everything would have to be left unsaid.

When they were children, Loki would often put on 'magic shows' for Ingrid. Once, Odin asked for one, and Loki told his father that they were 'only for Ingrid.' His magic entertained her, and he knew this, so each time he'd put on a show for her, he made sure he was showing his favorite tricks.

"So," Loki started, carefully taking a seat next to her on the bed. "I've been working on a new trick."

Ingrid sat up a bit at that, her interest showing. Loki took this as her go ahead.

He raised his hand in the air, palm face up, and mini fireworks started coming out of thin air in the palm of his hand. Ingrid let a smile grace her features, a laugh wanting to escape her so badly.

"It's nothing huge," the God said. "But it's pretty."

Ingrid nodded her head at him, her smile widening. He let out an airy laugh, smiling back at her. He closed his hand, making the fireworks disappear. Ingrid let her smile settle, and his did too. She felt his hand creep to hers, grabbing it in his large hand and giving it a squeeze. Loki's hands were soft. Silky smooth. Just like his voice. Ingrid looked down at their hands, and then looked back to him, her gaze questioning.

"I'm sorry for what my brother said," he started, his gaze soft upon her. "And I'm sorry for the predicament you're in."

Her gaze hardened, a blush forming on her cheeks. She had hoped she had dreamt about telling Loki about her true desires regarding her marriage, but it was evident she had confided in him.

"I've not forgotten our little talk last night," he confirmed, making the girl look away from him. "And I want to help you. I know how it feels to be burdened with something you don't want."

"How can you help?" Ingrid so badly wanted to ask. She wasn't used to not having her voice, and she didn't like it.

"And I'm sorry that you lost your voice," he continued. "You're still a goddess, Ingrid. You always will be. No one can strip you of that."

She gave him a faint smile in return, squeezing his hand back. His hands were ice cold, yet she didn't shiver away from his touch. In fact, she wanted more of his touch. Loki had always brought her comfort, but her hand in his gave her a sense of being grounded no touch had ever given her before.

Everyone knew Loki and Ingrid had a connection deeper than they understood. Loki had never been one to open up, but he had always told Ingrid everything. She too, told him her deepest secrets. They had both seen each other in their most vulnerable states, therefore creating a bond no one could understand.

She had always had feelings for the prince, but she felt naughty when she thought of acting on them. After all, she was engaged to his brother, the future king. She should be fawning over Thor, the future king of Asgard. But instead, Ingrid often found herself lusting over Loki in the shadows.

"Ingrid," Loki's voice said, but this time in her head, his silky voice sending chills down her spine. She gave him a startled look, his telepathic abilities something she wasn't used to. "You can speak back," he continued.

"This is oddly frightening," she said back, not really sure if he could hear her say that or not.

"But now you have someone to speak to," Loki's voice said, confirming he had heard her.

"I can't believe that worked," she said, looking at him wide eyed. They had never communicated telepathically to one another. She knew that he could, but she couldn't. He had obviously made it to where she could communicate back with him. She hoped he couldn't read her mind.

"I can," he said. When she looked at him, mortified, he had a small smirk playing on his lips. "I can hear everything you're thinking."

"Loki stop," she threatened. "I'm more than happy to speak with you because I need it, but I can't have you reading my mind."

"Why? Something naughty you don't want me to know?" He smirked.

Her face heated up, and at the mention of naughty thoughts, images of Loki popped into her head. She quickly willed those thoughts away, her face turning bright red out of fear he saw her thoughts of him.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, grinning at her.

"Loki, get out of my head," she warned.

"But I'm curious as to why you think of me so much," he replied.

If her face wasn't red before, it was cherry red now. She looked at him mortified, and put her head in her hands, shaking it. She was hoping that her actions were enough to get the God out of her head. His laughter rumbled throughout the room as he watched the girl in front of him, clearly in distress.

He moved to sit closer to her on the bed, and her breath hitched. She peeked an eye at him, and she saw him smirking down at her. She was feeling hot, her hands clammy and her forehead sweaty. Loki being this close to her in this state was making her feel fuzzy, and she couldn't tell if she wanted away from him or if she wanted closer to him.

"Who do you desire, my dear?" His voice still in her head, making goosebumps break out all over her body. "Who were you speaking of last night when you said you wanted someone other than Thor?"

"Loki," she said sternly, a warning. If he kept on, she didn't know how long she'd be able to hold her resolve.

"Tell me," he growled, his hand finding purchase on her thigh.

She lightly jumped at the contact, her mouth parting, the air leaving her lungs. She didn't think he felt the same about her, and the realization that he did was both thrilling and terrifying. It excited her because she had always had feelings for him, and it terrified her because of Thor.

"Of course I feel the same, Ingrid," he said, and she took in a sharp breath of air. "How could I not?"

"Because I'm marrying Thor," she said.

"I don't care. You clearly don't want to marry him."

She was at a loss for words, literally and figuratively. Loki was her greatest friend, and she worried what this would do to their relationship. She didn't know how they would go forward. She was to be married in a month and that terrified her.

"This is not how I expected my day to go," she said to him.

"Mine either," Loki chuckled, this time out loud. "I should let you rest, dear. I'm going to assist Odin in finding who stole your voice."

She just nodded at him as he stood up off the bed. She bent back down, however, caging Ingrid in between his arms, causing her to lean back onto her elbows. Her heart was thumping in her chest, and he smirked back at her. One of his hands came up and settled under her jaw, cupping her cheek. She instinctively leaned into his touch, her cheeks bright red again. He leaned forward and took his thumb across her lips, huffing out a laugh as her lips parted.

"Don't think I'll forget this talk," he drawled, his voice deep and smooth like chocolate.

She nodded back at him, swallowing the lump in her throat. He pulled her forward by the neck, and she stopped breathing as she expected his lips upon hers, her eyes fluttering shut. But instead of his lips finding hers, she felt them firmly press on her forehead.

"See you later, darling," he smirked, pulling away from her and laughing as she sat on the bed dazed and wide eyed.

She watched as he sauntered out of her room, and she let out the breath she had been holding. Her hand found her chest, and she placed it there as she slowed her rapid heartbeat. She flopped back on her bed, a small smile forming on her lips.

Maybe this month wouldn't be so bad after all.

A/N: Yaaas! It's done! Lemme know what you think! Definitely more parts to come! As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series!

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mochie85 · 2 years

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Creature Comforts - Chapter 2

Creature Comforts Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki is enamored by you, and you can’t understand why. He tries to get your attention until a disastrous accident occurs pushing you to rely on him. Will his charm finally win you over? Or will you continue to stay in your comfort zone? A/N: My ASKS are always open. Don't hesitate to send in a request or say 'hi.' And check out the very end of the fic for a reading of the poem done by Tom Hiddleston. Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Reader) Word Count: 3k Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Flirtatious Loki. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

It was a lonely sort of darkness. Thankfully, your consciousness would spare you from the bleakness, the endlessness, by putting you to sleep. You didn’t know how long you’ve been under.

At times there was pain. Like someone was pinching you to wake up. Other times, there were voices lulling you to wake. Always a murmur, you couldn’t understand what anyone was saying.

“Liesl. Wake up, sweetness.”

You wanted to be left alone. You were comfortable. You were content. Here in the emptiness, the darkness. A creature of comfort. You were so content that sleep came to you so easily.

In time, there was a lightness happening around you. The dark was giving way to shades of black and then gray. You were tired.

“Somewhere on the other side of this wide night And the distance between us, I am thinking of you. The room is turning slowly away from the moon.”

A voice. So strong and sad, cut through the mesh of colors forming in your mind.

“This is pleasurable. Or should I cross that out and say That it is sad? In one of the tenses I singing An impossible song of desire that you cannot hear.”

Carol Ann Duffy. She was – is one of your favorite poets. The colors in your mind started to take shape. There was light and shadow. Colors from the painting on the wall across the room; two silhouettes on a boat across the sunset. The fact that you knew it was a painting across the room was a feat in itself. You grew tired and the blackness took over again. You fell asleep to the sullen voice. Listening as relief crept over you.

“La lala la. See? I close my eyes and imagine The dark hills I would have to cross To reach you. For I am in love with you and this Is what it is like, or what it is like in words.”

Your legs hurt. They were sore and it felt as if tiny ants were crawling all over them. I have to straighten them out. I’ve been cooped up in this position for too long. You opened your eyes and took in your room. Clear and sharp. No more blurriness. No more darkness. You were in a hospital room, hooked up to IVs and monitors. The painting across the room greeted you as you sat up, with pain and great effort, and looked around.

You were alone. Except maybe not? You took in the chair situated next to your bed. There was a blanket and a book lying flat on the seat as if someone just momentarily stepped out. You felt the tingling in your legs again and looked down.

Loki came back into your room and was startled to find your bed reclined up. You turned your head slowly up to him. Your eyes filled with fat tears threatening to fall down. You took in his disheveled appearance. His wrinkled shirt. His sallow skin. He had coffee in one hand and combed his fingers through his hair with the other.

“Darling…”

“Why can’t I move my legs, Loki?” you cried. The tears fell down your face. It became harder to breathe as panic settled in your heart. Loki came running up to you and held you in an embrace. Your cries only got louder. “Wh-why can’t…I…” you started to hyperventilate. A louder sob wracked out of your body as Loki tried to console you. “No!” you screamed into his shoulder.

“Shh. Shh. Don’t cry, my dear.” He soothed as he rubbed his hands up and down your back. You shook your head, drenching his wrinkled shirt with your tears and sobs.

You fisted his shirt crying as he held you in his arms. He let your tears soak through. The pain and loud cries seeping through to his heart. He didn’t let go of you once. That small piece of him, the one he protected from all things, shattered and broke at the sight of you.

You didn’t know how long you had cried there. Minutes? Hours? Loki sat on the bed facing you. His body leaned over, his arm resting on the other side of you like he was shielding you from the sight of your legs. His free hand held yours. The doctor came in and tried to explain what happened.

The explosion was minor. It was the initial shock that made you fall back. You hit your head and the top of your cervical spine really hard on the table behind you. MRIs had shown no injury or damage to your neck or spine.

You sat there, quietly. Staring past Loki’s body, to your legs. You didn’t acknowledge the doctor. Loki was kind enough to speak on your behalf, asking about your legs.

“It just atrophied, dear heart. With enough rest and maybe some rehab, you’ll be able to get mobility again,” Loki promised. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since you stopped crying. His eyes were still clear and sharp, but his brows had shaped them into a sadness that you wanted to smooth over.

You didn’t realize that the doctor had already left. “Are you comfortable?” Loki asked. You looked at him with a detachment that terrified him and simply nodded your head.

“How long was I out?” your voice hoarse from crying.

“Almost two months. You hit your head pretty hard. Are you hungry?” he asked you. You shook your head no. “Alright. I’ll be back in a minute. I’m going to call the team and let them know you’re awake.” He said smiling at you.

“Have you been here this whole time?” you asked in a small voice.

“On and off. Some of the team has come by to visit. We take turns.” He lied smoothly.

“Why? Why are you here, Loki?” you said flatly. Plainly.

“Because I like you,” he said simply with a smile. His words tugging at a memory from your past. You looked down at the chair next to your bed, with his blanket and book. You recalled the sullen voice that you heard while you were under.

“…For I am in love with you and this Is what it is like or what it is like in words.”

You looked into his eyes with awareness and he knew that you figured it out.

Regardless of what you had said, Loki came back with ice chips and some crackers. “The nurse had said to ease you into eating again. This was all she offered me.” He said with slight disdain. “We provided for our infirmed better on Asgard.” He continued under his breath.

You snickered at his remark and he beamed at you proudly. He opened your saltines for you and handed them to you. When you went to grab them, they slipped from your fingers onto your bed. You hadn’t noticed how numb your fingertips felt. You looked down at your hands as if they were foreign and not yours. You felt so helpless.

Loki held your hands and massaged your fingers. “Just the atrophy, darling. It’ll get better.” He took out one square of saltines and held it up to your lips. You looked at it first, then at him. When you took a bite, he smiled. Then he spoon-fed you ice from the cup till you were satisfied. It was one of the most humbling experiences of your life. To feel vulnerable and useless. To be at the mercy of Loki.

“Thank you,” you said softly. Loki simply nodded his head and sat back down on the chair next to you. “Will you read to me?”

He looked up at your request. His eyes were blank but sharp, trying to hide the emotion swelling up inside him.

He began with his deep voice. A low grumble, a vibration that settled in your bones and helped you relax. Within minutes, you fell back to sleep.

The next morning, Loki was gone. The blanket was folded neatly on the chair but his book was missing. Nat and Thor were standing next to you as Tony looked at the chart on your bedside.

“She wakes,” Thor said, helping you sit up.

“Hey, sweetie.” Nat cooed.

“Hi, guys. What did I miss?” you joked. Tony took a step towards you and sat next to you on your bed. Right where Loki sat last night.

“Edelweiss. You ok?” he asked earnestly. You rolled your eyes at his nickname for you. “Sorry about what happened. I should’ve warned you before you got into the lab.”

“It’s ok,” you pacified.

“Good news is the doctor cleared you to come home today. Everything checks out. When you’re ready we can start physical therapy. Someone can come by and help you with your legs.” Tony offered.

You winced when he said that. You forgot about your legs. Reflexively, you tried to wiggle your toes. A slight movement of your feet had you wide-eyed and hopeful. You turned to tell Loki but forgot he wasn’t there. “Where’s Loki?”

“He went home to freshen up,” Nat answered.

“He’s stayed by your side the whole time you were here,” Thor said with a knowing smile. “He said he would only be gone for just a moment. That you wouldn’t miss him.”

But apparently, you did miss him. Thor shared a look with Nat that you ignored. The entire time, Thor said. It certainly warmed something inside you.

That afternoon, your doctor had discharged you with follow-up appointments for the next couple of months. Tony accompanied you out of the hospital in a wheelchair and drove you back home to the tower. It was as if you left the doom and dejection there in that hospital room. The bright afternoon sun lifting your spirits. You were anxious to go home. To see all your friends. To see Loki. He hadn’t come back to the hospital at all.

The moment you rolled off the elevator, the team swarmed you. “Surprise!” They all yelled in unison. “Welcome home.”

There were smiles and hugs all around. You were glad that Nat had insisted that you bathe and get ready earlier with the help of a nurse. But of course, she probably knew about the welcome home party.

As you said your ‘hellos’ and ‘thank yous’ to the team, you looked around searching for his face amidst the crowd. You found him looking straight at you, watching you, sitting in your favorite spot on the couch.

Loki looked roguish and captivating all at the same time. He sat with his foot atop his knee. His left elbow, inclined on the armrest as his fingers caressed his lips. He donned his signature button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark slacks. A half-smirk played on his mouth as his eyes took you rolling towards him. He looked completely different from the time he comforted you in the hospital. More alive. More joy on his handsome face.

“You’re in my spot.” You said to him calmly.

“Come and take it then.” He said waving his hand out to you. Playful. He wanted to be playful. You’ve had enough stress the last couple of months to last you a good while. He missed your smile. He missed the twinkle in your eye when he pushed you to the edge of your comfort and you stood your ground. The detached look on your face haunted him last night. He couldn’t get the image out of his head.

You narrowed your eyes at him staying silent. “How are your legs?” he asked sincerely.

“I moved my foot earlier.” You said dismissively. Coolly. You recalled that he wasn’t in the room with you to share in the triumph.

“That’s wonderful news. You’ll be running from me again in no time.” He said. That smirk of his getting wider. “I do love the chase,” he added. “And your fingers? How are they?” At this, he leaned forward, putting both his feet on the ground to reach for your hand. He inspected your fingers, while he gently massaged your palm.

“Th-they’re great.” You stammered. “I got control back almost immediately.” You continued as you wiggled your fingers in his hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours and chuckled.

“Good. I miss your hands running through my hair.” He said coyly as he played with your digits. A heated blush rose in both of you.

No one missed it. The interaction between the two of you. They watched through the corners of their eyes as they mingled with each other. Knowing smiles and sideway glances as they watched the two of you flirt.

“So,” Tony said sliding over to the both of you on the couch. “The physical therapist will be here starting tomorrow. An hour every day, until you’re up and running again. Literally.” Tony said to you. You tried to take your hand back from Loki, but he held it firmly. He wasn’t about to let you go now that he has you in his grasp. “Your doctor is confident that you can get your mobility again within two to three weeks.”

“How long till I get to go back on the field?” You asked. Loki’s hand stilled in yours.

“You just got out of a major injury, Liesl. Even if you did start walking tomorrow, the doctor said it might be months till you get your strength back to the fighting stance you had before the accident.” Tony advised you. Loki felt you squeeze his hand in disappointment. He felt Tony’s words come to life as he realized how weak your grip was.

“What will I do till then?” you asked dejected.

“I’ll help you train every day. After your therapy. Don’t worry darling, you’ll be back in no time.” Loki offered.

“You’d help me, really?”

“Sure. What better incentive than to be with me dear heart.” Loki said teasingly.

“You act as if you don’t annoy me and I enjoy your company.” You taunted. You tried to take your hand away again, but Loki held on firmly.

“Don’t you? And here I thought I was wearing you down.” Loki said in mock defeat. You rolled your eyes and smiled. “I love getting under your skin.” He continued with a slight bite on his lip.

“Ok, Von Trapp. What’s going on here? Is this like a thing-are you guys a thing?” Tony said pointing to both of you. You forgot that Tony was sitting next to Loki on the couch. Apparently, so did Loki.

“Jealous, Stark?” Loki turned his reckless smile upon him.

“Nope. I’m not doing this. I haven’t had enough drinks in me to witness this.” Tony stood, unnerved by his smile. “Ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Meet the therapist downstairs at the gym.” He pointed to you as he walked away.

Later that night, Loki offered to carry you into your room. He held you bridal style as he walked passed the threshold. Wanda and Nat following behind, your wheelchair in tow.

“Hopefully, you won’t need to use this for long. I know Tony tried to make everything wheelchair accessible.” Wanda said, parking the chair by the side of your bed.

“Should I stay in case you need something in the middle of the night?” Nat asked.

“No. I’ll be fine. I’ll ask FRIDAY for help if I need anything.” You said. You looked to Loki who was still carrying you in his arms.

You cleared your throat and shot a quick glance to your bed to signal him to put you down.

“Oh, right. My apologies.” Loki fumbled as he placed you sitting on top of your bed. The plush comforter engulfed you into its soft embrace. This is definitely much more comfortable than that hospital bed. “Ladies.” Loki said with a slight bow to Nat and Wanda. He exited shortly after with a ‘goodnight’ to you.

As soon as he closed your door, Nat and Wanda turned to you in a quick flurry of hair and limbs. “What’s the story?” Wanda asked immediately.

“Nothing. There is no story,” you said wide-eyed.

“Bullshit.” Nat cursed.

“Ya. Sam said he saw you guys cuddling on the couch months ago before your…accident.” Wanda drawled.

“I think he’s been trying to pursue me. But I honestly haven’t thought of him that way. Until he started to just be wherever I happen to be. I didn’t know whether he was trying to pull a joke or not. I know he stayed with me at the hospital.”

“He practically lived there.” Nat interrupted you. “He got so mad at Tony for the accident.”

“But it wasn’t Tony’s fault. I was the one being careless.” You disrupted.

“Don’t start. We know it’s not Tony’s fault…” Wanda started.

“We don’t think it’s your fault either.” Nat tried to appease you.

“It was just a sad accident. But Loki was so angry that he needed something – someone to put the blame on. Tony let him yell at him. Even let Loki threaten to throw him off the tower again. Tony felt so bad about what happened to you.” Wanda finished. That explains Tony’s reaction earlier on the couch. You made a mental note to talk to Tony about it. Make sure he knows that you don’t blame him.

“So, do you see him that way? Do you like him back?” Nat asked. You looked up at her eyes, then to Wanda. You couldn’t help the blushing smile spreading across your face, hurting your cheeks, as you nodded a silent ‘yes’ to both of them.

Loki stood in the hallway, his back leaning to your door, hearing everything you guys talked about. Except for that final answer.

⬅️Chapter 1 | Chapter 3➡️

Taglist: @albinotigerpython @annesunlight @a-witch-with-words @daintinessiskey @fire-in-her-veinz @froggybitchh @gigglingtigger @hoff-mommy @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jmehp @kellatron55 @kxthxrinx0310 @lokiprompts @lokisgoodgirl @lokiestorch @lokixryss @lonadane @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @mcufan72 @midnights-ramblings @mistress-of-words @salempoe @sititran @sonatabee @wolfsmom1 @yoongissidebitchh @lokiprompts @lokisninerealsms @alexs1200 @britishserpent @huntress-artemiss @mishief2sarawr @user13cabs

#loki fandom #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki angst #loki series #mcu #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x OC #Marvel fanfic #MCU fanfic #flirt #loki laufeyson #marvel fanfic

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muddyorbsblr · 2 years

Text

secret notes part 5: same boat

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: The team starts to speculate who The Lonely Avenger could be, and decide to watch a live stream of your first live show.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none, this is a fluffy story [if i missed something, let me know and i'll update immediately]

Things to be aware of: idiots in love, mutual pining, reader in denial

"You all keep assuming that this is some fantasizing teenage girl in her dorm room that has a thing for the dark-haired morally questionable brother. Who would probably have a thing for the Draco Malfoys, the what was that vampire guys' name again? Damon something? Guys like that. We're assuming this is someone we don't know. Someone we've never met. I'm saying we narrow our horizons a bit."

"What are you saying, Tony? This is someone on the team?"

"No, Rhodey. I'm saying this could be someone we've worked with in the past. Specifically someone Rock of Ages has worked with before."

As Wanda walked in to the training room, hearing the men talk, a panic set in inside of her. They were narrowing down the identity of The Lonely Avenger to someone they've worked with? How much longer until they think to look into the team itself? How much longer until they looked at you?

"Afternoon, gentlemen," she greeted the pair she secretly dubbed the Iron Brothers. "You two up to no good?"

"Spitballing about who Ms Lonely Avenger on YouTube might be," Rhodes answered. "Tony here thinks that maybe Laufeyson's met her before and she developed some insane emotional attachment to him, which is why she's doing all this."

"You know what, I second this," Sam announced as he walked in. "There's something about how she sings these songs to Horns. Like there's a personal connection. Like she's confessing, not just declaring, you know?"

"Who's confessing?" More panic set in to Wanda as she heard your voice echo through the training room. "Should we ready some Congratulations banners and confetti poppers?"

"Not just yet, jellybean," Tony answered. "We don't know who she is yet."

"Wait who are we talking about again?" The confusion on your face was obvious; you truly hadn't heard what they were speaking about before you entered the room.

"The lark, darling." Wanda stifled a smile as she watched you stiffen and hold back a blush as Loki walked in and used that endearment with you. "They're trying to figure out who my admirer on the internet is."

"Oh?" you squeaked. "And where are you all at with this?"

"We think it's someone that Bambi's met, possibly worked with," Tony answered your question. "Possibly someone we consulted with for a mission? Someone in the tower? Someone he saved?"

"Someone on the team," Rhodes offered, looking quite suspiciously at you. Could he know? How could he know? All very valid questions that you can't ask without raising his suspicions, Wanda reminded herself.

"Nah, Rhodes. This one, I don't second. If anyone on the team sounded like that, we would know. Hell if I could sing like that I'd never shut up. You heard her last video? You got a voice that sweet you'd never stop singing. And if she's someone on the team, we would have heard her by now."

Wanda almost audibly sighed in relief as Sam's logic began to steer suspicion away from you. Much as you were more open with her and Nat about your secret life as a singing YouTuber, and they even cover for you so that you could record on off days and not have to stockpile as much as you used to, she knew that you weren't ready quite yet for the rest of the team to know quite yet. Who knew which one of them would slip up and mention it to Loki on accident?

"Why don't we just go to her live show?" Peter asked from the door. "She has one tonight at Groove. 10pm. We could go there and--"

"Scare her off? Think this over, Parker. She performs, she sees an Avenger in the audience, she shuts down her channel and hides until the end of time. The smart move is to wait for people to upload videos of her performing so that we can find out who she is finally."

"I like the way you think, Wilson," you agreed with him, your casual tone giving nothing away. You sounded so carefree about this entire ordeal that even Nat would be proud if she could hear you, but at the moment she was prepping your outfit for said live show, as well as their disguises so that they could sit among the audience and cheer for you. "Tell us what she looks like when we get back. Girls' night."

"Okay I have a question. You're going on this live show and you seem really confident that people won't recognize you. You're an Avenger. Your name and your face is all over the media, the internet. How can you be so sure that nobody will recognize you?"

You smiled at Nat as her concern made her brows furrow, waving an unsuspecting-looking pair of glasses her way. "Swiped it from Operations this morning, something that Stark's trying out. Basically when you wear this it distorts the light waves that are picked up by any camera pointed at its wearer. So despite all these phones and all these cameras pointed at me, nobody will be able to prove that The Lonely Avenger is really just plain old Y/N Y/L/N."

"Smart girl," she praised. "I'm proud of you. Now let's go. Try to get some food in you before you go live tonight. We can change our clothes in the car."

As if right on cue, Wanda appeared at your door. "Ready?"

"Ready," you and Nat said at the same time, taking each other's hand.

"To baby's first live show," the spy teased softly. "Thank you for inviting us to it, babes."

"I was always going to, you know," you answered. "Had you not found out when you did, I would've told you tonight. You bitches just needed to be patient," you finished with a playful shove at both of them.

You were just about to step into the elevator when a voice stopped you in your tracks. "Y/N?"

Natasha let go of your hand and kept walking toward the elevator, giving you a subtle signal to "turn around and talk to him", so you did. "Hey, Mischief." You stood still as he walked toward you. "What's up?"

"You're leaving for the night?" There was a slight motion of his hand, as if he was about to move it toward something but stopped midway.

"Erm…yeah. Girls night and all."

"You'll be safe?"

You chuckled at the question. "Loki, I'm with a master assassin and one of the most dangerous practitioners of magic this side of the universe. And even without them I can hold my own. But honestly I'd trust these two with my life even if they're drunk out of their minds. I'll be safe."

He nodded, as if mulling over your answer, and stepped just the slightest bit closer to you. "If at any point tonight, your situation becomes decidedly…unsafe…" he trailed off.

"I'll call you, I promise," you finished for him, unable to prevent a fond smile forming on your face. He may not return your feelings, but it warmed your heart knowing that he was this concerned for your safety.

A soft smile graced his features as he reached up to tuck a lock of hair currently forming a slight curtain over your face behind your ear. "Such resplendence shouldn't be hidden away," he said simply, touching your chin before putting his hand back down. "I suppose I will see you in the morning then."

"Suppose you will, Mischief." With an awkward wave as you stepped backwards toward the elevator, he turned around and walked in the direction of his room. When the doors closed on you and your friends, they looked at you with amused looks in their eyes. "Not a word. I don't even know what the fuck just happened."

The temptation to seek out this place called 'Groove' as 10 o'clock loomed closer crept up on Loki that night. He knew that whoever The Lonely Avenger was, she would be performing there according to the information acquired by the Spiderling. And he was so morbidly curious as to the true identity behind this voice was as he heard her this week dedicating a song to him about how she pictured him when she would think of home.

He wanted desperately to know who she was. But even more desperately, a pathetic part of him still held on to hope that perhaps Rhodes was right. Perhaps the person behind the voice was someone on the team. Perhaps it was you.

Perhaps you returned his affection and he had made an error in assuming that you merely thought of him as a friend.

He stood up at the sound of a tentative knock on his door, surprised to find the Spiderling adolescent on the other side with a notably cautious and terrified look on his face. "Uhh hi, Mr Loki, sir. We were going to watch a live stream of The Lonely Avenger and we were wondering if you wanted to watch with us? Because you're the one all her songs are for?"

The god was taken aback at the invitation, but couldn't in his right faculties find a reason to turn down the offer. "I would, actually. Thank you, Parker." He followed the child to the common area and stood behind the sofa as a video began to play on the large screen in front of the team.

"Alright, everybody, this is the moment we've all been waiting for, but before we begin, I did get a few instructions from The Lonely Avenger herself. She knows that many of you will have your phones out, but all she requests is that if you do recognize her by chance, do not say her name tonight. That's all she asks." That was strange. The god would think that this woman would request not to have recording devices out all together if she was adamant on keeping her identity a secret.

After a few moments the common room echoed with raucous applause. She had taken the stage. But then the applause was overtaken with questions of "what the hell" and accusations that this Lonely Avenger had tampered with their devices somehow. When he looked at the screen once more, he saw that the stage did in fact have a woman on it, but her face was shrouded in a bright white spiraling halo.

"Stark…" Rogers said in a cautious tone. "Isn't that…"

"That's my tech," the billionaire finished with wonder in his tone. "She's using one of the image distortion glasses that R&D just put into testing last month."

"Hold on. Tony, that means--"

"You might be right, Rhodey. This might be someone on the team."

Y/N? Darling, could it truly be you? Loki thought to himself, indulging in the thought that perhaps you were the woman on stage, and the night you said you would spend with your friends was a ruse. That Romanoff and Maximoff were disguised amongst the audience members.

"At the very least, now we know it's someone who works in the tower. And has access to R&D," Stark finished.

A/N: Keep indulging that thought, Loki, you're on the right track.

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

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mischiefandmedicine · 2 months

Text

Very Full - Chapter 2: Hear Me

Summary: An enchanting voice, carrying across dimensions, beckons Loki to a karaoke bar of all places, where a captivating song leads him to meet Saoirse's mother. Her mysterious departure leaves him yearning for more, igniting a quest that promises to intertwine their destinies.

Word Count: 4,137 words.

Chapter Warnings: Minor violence (Loki gets slapped).

Soundtrack Link

This Chapter's Inspirational Music: Main character sings Hear Me by Kelly Clarkson, but imagine the other songs playing in the background afterwards.

Hear Me by Kelly Clarkson

Dark Horse by Katy Perry

Break My Heart by Dua Lipa

Into You by Ariana Grande

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Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

---

Loki settled into the deep green armchair, flitting his expansive cloak of interwoven timelines behind him, fixing his gaze on the expanse of space sprawling around them. With a measured breath, he began, his voice carrying the weight of ages past, each word meticulously chosen to weave a tapestry of truth and longing. “Once, in the epoch before the multiverse bloomed into its myriad of existences, there sat a realm of unparalleled splendor. A place where the convergence of cosmic energies birthed wonders beyond mortal comprehension. It was a world steeped in the ethereal embrace of magic, where the veils between the realms were thin, and destinies intertwined like the dancing tendrils of the great Yggdrasil itself.”

His gaze shifted, locking onto Saoirse’s eyes, her face displaying a mélange of skepticism and lingering pain. “In that realm, nestled amidst the splendor of Asgard, lived a being of immeasurable complexity. A god, known to many as Loki. A name ensconced in tales of trickery ambition, and the eternal dance between chaos and order.”

As Loki paused for effect in his story, Saoirse rolled her eyes with a sigh, crossing her arms angrily. “Just get on with it…”

Loki laughed, shaking his head knowingly, he let Saoirse’s words hang in the air before continuing, “As I was saying, within the intricate tapestries of my existence, lies a thread that transcends the bounds of divine whims and cosmic happenstance. It is a thread spun from the fiber of love, sacrifice, and enduring legacy…of Asgard…of Midgard…of her…”

Loki’s expression softened, memories flickering across his mind like the fragments of an unfinished mosaic. He was too eager to tell this story but wanted his daughter to revel in the beauty of it. It was his favorite story. One that had played in his mind repeatedly after he had returned to his throne.

“Your mother, a woman of unfathomable grace and strength, walked a path entwined with mine. Her presence in my life, Saoirse, altered the very fabric of my being,” a tinge of sorrow and remorse echoed in his voice as he continued.

“Our story begins with yours truly sitting on that throne there,” he turned to point to the gilded throne high up above the pair. “I had destroyed the loom that was responsible for keeping the strands of time from spiraling out of control since the dawn of…well…time,” he laughed nervously.

“I sat upon my throne, adrift on the sea of thoughts of friends lost – people who had helped shape me into the god I was meant to be – wondering if this was all I would ever be. Questioning if there would be a time when I could live for myself again. I had sacrificed everything to make sure all timelines would endure, ultimately saving countless lives in the process.”

Loki paused to wipe a tear from his eye, while Saoirse looked on in bewilderment. All she had understood about her father were his mischievous and trickster ways. She had not heard of him becoming emotional like this. Before she could say a word to fill the silence, Loki huffed out a single laugh before huskily resuming his story.

“Before I knew it, I had grown weary from my journey. It had, after all, taken centuries to overcome the threat of all existence nearly being destroyed. I closed my eyes, if only for a moment before my dreams were taken over by the sound of her sweet voice singing to me across the expanses,” Loki closed his eyes, feeling his powers pulling him back to the moment when he could hear her voice calling out to him.

*****

It was like a siren song calling out to him on the throne. He could hear the song calling out to him in his dreams. The words echoed through his ears, as they hypnotized the god on the throne at the end of time, weary from his travels to this moment.

You’ve gotta be out there, You’ve gotta be somewhere, Wherever you are, I’m waiting. ‘Cause there are these nights when I sing myself to sleep. And I’m hoping my dreams bring you close to me, Are you listening?

Loki found himself poised at the threshold between realities, the vast tapestry of timelines shimmering around him like iridescent threads. He concentrated on the faint, enchanting melody, a haunting voice that resonated across the cosmic expanse. With a calculated flicker of his cosmic powers, he projected himself out into the cosmos, navigating the intricate web of realities; timelines that seemingly called his name as he followed the tantalizing echo of the song that drew him in.

Hear me, I’m crying out, I’m ready now. Turn my world upside down, find me. I’m lost inside the crowd, it’s getting loud, I need you to see, I’m screaming for you to please, Hear me. Can you hear me?

In a kaleidoscope of lights and swirling energies, Loki phased through realities, guided solely by the captivating call of the woman’s voice. The ethereal echoes of the words reverberated through the countless timelines, seeming to overtake an entire branch of the makeshift Yggdrasil of intertwined realities. Her voice was a beacon that had summoned Loki across the universe. He had to find who had such power over him.

Finally, his projection emerged in a reality unlike that of his throne at the end of time, finding himself inside a vibrant, bustling tavern that seemed a universe away from his cosmic throne. The ambiance was alive with the spirited chatter of patrons, punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversations. Yet amidst the indistinct chatter, Loki’s focus honed in on the stage, where a lone figure stood, bathed in the glow of stage lights. She exuded grace and otherworldly charm as she sang, her voice carrying a poignant, yet powerful rendition of a song Loki had not heard before.

I used to be scared of letting someone in, But it gets so lonely being on my own. No one to talk to. No one to hold me. I’m not always strong, oh I need you here, Are you listening?

Loki found himself ensnared, not by the chaotic revelry of the bar, but by the mesmerizing woman’s voice. He stood at the periphery, his emerald eyes fixated on the singer, studying her every curve, captivated by her impassioned performance. He watched as she swayed in time with the music, bare feet, and bare legs leading up to a dark leather skirt, hugging her hips effortlessly. Her torso was adorned with a dark green short-sleeved shirt scrawled with the words “Beautiful Disaster” in gold lettering. Her mocha skin glistened in the stage light as her wavy black hair framed her face, kissing her shoulders, and swept down her frame.

The song itself carried a depth that struck Loki to the very core of his existence, stirring something ancient and profound within him. The lyrics seemed to echo sentiments he had long forgotten, evoking memories buried beneath layers of time and duty. He thought of Sylvie and how she had opened his heart to the possibility of love before spurning his advances. Ultimately it was she who had helped him to see that he could be more than just the god of mischief. Here and now, this woman had captured his very being…with a song.

I’m restless and wild, I fall but I try, I need someone to understand. Can you hear me? I’m lost in my thoughts, And baby, I’ve fought for all that I’ve got. Can you hear me?

As the song reached its crescendo, Loki felt an inexplicable resonance with the woman on the stage. Her voice had transcended the realm of mere sound, weaving a spell that seemed to echo through the dimensions, beckoning him closer. With an enigmatic smile playing on his lips, Loki stepped forward, making his way through the patrons toward the stage. His movement slow and deliberate, he was guided by an inexplicable pull toward the singer whose voice echoed a tale that continued to enchant him.

Staring up at the stage, Loki fixed his gaze upon this mysterious woman who had, by now, noticed his presence and locked eyes with him with a playful smirk as she sang. Intrigue and wonder danced in his eyes as he stood breathless, ensnared by her smile as she reached the climax of the song.

Hear me, hear me, Hear me, can you hear me? Hear me, Hear me, Hear me.

The performance of the song had reached its culmination, the last note lingering in the air as the audience erupted with applause. The woman’s gaze remains fixed on Loki, a glint in her eyes as she blushed and whispered a breathless and exasperated “thank you” into the microphone before taking a playful bow to cheers from the patrons surrounding the tavern.

The woman walked towards Loki, placing a hand on his shoulder as she alighted from the stage, moving lithely, her presence commanding yet graceful. Landing in front of Loki with a barely audible thud, she stood before him at a height that contrasted her powerful voice, her stature defying expectations. The top of her head barely reached his collarbone, causing her to look up at him as she steadied herself, bare feet contacting the tavern’s dark hardwood flooring.

Loki, momentarily taken aback, could not help but voice his surprise, “Where’s the rest of you?” he blurted out, his eyebrows arching in puzzlement. Though his question demonstrated his fascination, it too echoed a subtle admittance of his unexpected curiosity about this hypnotizing woman who, despite her petite frame, had possessed such a captivating aura and voice summoned him from across the dimensions.

The woman laughed heartily, grinning at the bizarre question, “What do you mean, ‘where’s the rest of you?’” she said, mocking Loki’s voice the best she could.

Loki’s eyes glint mischievously as he flashes a playful smirk. “Oh, my apologies. I just didn’t expect the voice of a Valkyrie to come from someone who needs a booster seat,” he quipped, his voice laden with both a teasing jest and a hint of seriousness as he eyed the woman before him.

“Watch it, buddy, I’ve been told I pack quite the punch, even in a small package,” she replied, her voice carrying both amusement and a touch of mystery. Her response was measured, revealing nothing of herself, yet inviting a still-stricken Loki to comment further.

Loki’s playful smirk lingered, his eyes glinting in the light of the tavern. “Ah, that explains it, you are a Valkyrie in compact form. Quite intriguing,” he remarked, his voice laden with playful sarcasm as he assessed her further. “You almost had me fooled there for a moment. I thought your kind had been all but extinct?” His words carried a teasing cadence, yet the underlying curiosity hinted at an interest in uncovering more about this mysterious woman.

The woman’s laughter rang again through the tavern, a sound that seemed to echo with both amusement and a touch of secrecy. “What is a Valkyrie?” she replied with a giggle, her gaze meeting Loki’s with a curious twinkle in her eye. “You have an odd sense of humor, stranger.” Her response was perplexing, leaving Loki momentarily taken aback by the seemingly feigned ignorance but intrigued by her banter.

Loki’s smirk grew wider, reveling in the teasing exchange. “A Valkyrie,” he began, assuming an air of grandiosity, “In the tales of old, Valkyries were fierce warriors, guardians of Asgard, chosen by the All-Father, Odin, himself to escort the fallen warriors to Valhalla. Strong, skilled, and cunning, they commanded respect, even among the gods.” His words were laced with a hint of theatricality, painting a vivid image of the mythical beings from Asgardian lore.

The woman tilted her head, eyes playing at an innocent expression with a smile, “Hmmm, that sounds impressive,” she responded with a pinch of sarcasm dancing in her voice. “But I hate to burst your bubble, I’m not a Valkyrie. I’m just a regular ol’ human being,” she added, her tone carrying a spirited yet assertive demeanor.

Loki chuckled, astonished by her response, “A human being, you say? Well, that would certainly explain the lack of winged steed and armor,” he quipped, a glint of amusement twinkling in his eyes, still in disbelief. “But forgive me, you do have a certain…otherworldly quality about you. A human with such a captivating voice is quite the rarity.”

With a blush taking over her face, the woman chuckled softly, the sound like music to Loki’s ears, “You’re quite the charmer, but alas,” she mocked his accent, “I’m just your average karaoke bar singer, nothing more, nothing less.”

Pulling her away from the stage so that she might hear him better, Loki leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, “Oh, come now, don’t sell yourself short. I don’t know what a karaoke bar is, but you certainly have all its patrons under your spell,” he paused, voice growing deeper as he gestured to their surroundings. “It’s rather perplexing, and I’m fond of mysteries,” he teased.

The woman grinned, speechless, eyeing Loki carefully.

“A human with such an enticing voice and demeanor like yours might have a few tricks up her sleeve,” Loki continued.

The woman pivoted to walk past Loki with a smile, “You think you’ve figured me out?” she shrugged knowing that Loki was following close behind her as she pushed her way through the crowd, “I’m afraid I have to disappoint you again, but I’m just a girl who enjoys a good song, a good drink, and…,” she paused to look Loki up and down over her shoulder, “a good conversation.”

Intrigued by this woman, Loki matched her pace, reveling in the challenge that this human presented with her snarky demeanor and small stature. He leaned in close to her ear, “A good conversation, you say?” Loki echoed her words, allowing his voice to mimic her playful tone and accept the challenge she presented. “Well then, allow me to introduce myself properly.”

He halted her progress gently, grabbing her by the arm and turning her to face him, his gaze holding hers in a momentary pause as she shrugged his hand off her with a glare. “I am Loki,” he declared theatrically, a smirk playing upon his lips as he bowed slightly, his coat draping around him adding to the dramatic flair.

“I know who you are,” she said raising an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at her lips before smacking him square across the face.

The sting of her hand against his cheek took him by surprise, a sharp crack resounding through the bustling tavern. He recoiled slightly, more from the shock of her action than the actual impact. His hand rose to his cheek, rubbing the spot where her slap had landed, more amused than offended.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Loki remarked, his voice tinged with genuine surprise and an ounce of admiration in it. He glanced at her half in amusement and half something else. “The absolute audacity.”

The woman stood there, her expression a mix of amusement and defiance, indicating that she was, in fact, toying with the god who was now towering over her silently as they approached an empty table in the corner. “I do hope that gets your attention,” she said, the hint of a smirk curling at the corners of her lips. “Do not touch me again unless I ask you to,” she pointed a finger at him scolding.

Loki, recovering from the shock, despite the sting of her hand lingering, could not help but chuckle. “As you wish,” he took a step back, pulling a chair out for her. “A swift introduction, but I believe we might have skipped a fundamental step,” he said as he looked at her, taking a seat across from her. “I’ve presented myself, yet the mystery of your name still eludes me. Might I have the pleasure of knowing the name of the woman who wields both voice and palm with such finesse against me?”

The woman’s smirk softened to a faint smile as she perched her face in her hands, regarding him from across the table. “And what would a name do for you, Loki?” she quipped, playing along with their alluring exchange.

“Names hold power and significance. They are keys that unlock hidden doors and open realms of possibility,” Loki replied with a smile, his voice carrying a charm that seemed almost impossible to resist.

The woman chuckled lightly, eyes questioning the very nature of the conversation, the air between them seemingly heating up. “Melara,” she said, her voice floating with a playful, yet guarded tone, leaving Loki to wonder if it was truly her name or another layer to the enigma she seemed to be.

“Melara,” Loki echoed, savoring the name as if it held a secret within its syllables. “A pleasure, indeed,” he said with a bow of his head, acknowledging her with an exaggerated flourish of his hand.

Intrigued by her boldness and the hint of light-heartedness that underscored her actions, Loki leaned back in his chair, his expression changing to amusement and curiosity as he watched her closely, studying every feature of her face.

“And how exactly do you know of me, Melara?” Loki inquired, a quirk of his lips betraying his interest in her response.

Melara’s gaze met Loki’s with a hint of recognition and a trace of wariness, though she remained composed and unfazed in his presence. With a tone that conveyed acknowledgment rather than trepidation, she spoke, her words laced with curiosity of her own. “I’ve heard tales whispered in corners about a certain someone causing quite the stir in New York,” Melara remarked, her voice carrying a blend of intrigue and calculated neutrality. “I have even heard of someone like you visiting here in Wisconsin a few times, once when I was a little girl. Seems like mischief follows you wherever you go, doesn’t it?”

“Wisconsin? Is that what you call this realm?” Loki asked, puzzled.

Melara laughed emphatically at his question, pausing to gaze into his eyes before laughing again. “No, it’s a state. For someone who was supposed to take over everything here, you sure are clueless, aren’t you?” she giggled.

Loki’s expression shifted subtly, a faint shadow passing over his features, addressing her awareness of his past exploits. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes reflecting admiration for the joke at his expense. “Ah, yes, that version of me did indeed relish in causing such commotion,” he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment, indicating a change from that brash persona. “But I must confess, I’ve evolved since then. Times change, people change…even gods,” Loki added with a charming smirk, attempting to deflect from his former self, leaning into thoughts of his more recent deeds, particularly following his ascension to the gilded throne at the end of time.

As the dimly lit tavern hummed with the lively chatter and the faint scent of liquor lingered in the air, Melara and Loki had unknowingly found themselves entangled in a conversation that felt like a dance – one filled with intrigue, charm, and the enticing allure of the unexpected. Loki’s revelations about his transformation since the chaos of New York had woven a captivating narrative, his words carrying the weight of reflection and change. In the depths of his emerald-green eyes, she saw traces of a past laden with hurt and mischief, a tumultuous history teeming with complexities the god himself was attempting to unravel as they sat.

“Change is a curious thing,” Melara remarked, her voice threaded with understanding and an insatiable curiosity for the mysterious god seated across from her. “Many claim to embrace it, but few truly do.” Her words hung in the air, a contemplative pause in the midst of their vibrant exchange.

She observed the subtle changes in Loki’s demeanor – the nuances in his voice, the fraction of vulnerability peeking through his charismatic façade. There was a momentary glimpse of acknowledgment in his gaze, a silent understanding. It was as though they were sharing fragments of their past selves without explicitly uttering a word. Together they were navigating the labyrinth of change as they sat across from each other in the dimly lit tavern, conversation deeper than most strangers would ever share.

“Indeed,” Loki replied, his past experiences coloring his voice with wisdom forged through countless trials and the passage of years he had not even begun to fathom. “Our experiences can reshape us in unforeseen ways.”

Their conversation flowed like a river meandering through uncharted lands, each exchange adding layers of complexity to their connection as they sat, the indistinct background chatter melting away as they spoke. With each shared word and exchanged glance, the boundary between intrigue and caution blurred – a tantalizing edge teetering on the brink of unspoken truths and the allure of the unknown.

As the hours slipped away into the embrace of the night, Melara sensed the subtle shift in the atmosphere of their interaction. The magnetic pull of Loki’s charisma intertwined with the intoxicating atmosphere – or perhaps that of the drinks she had consumed lost in Loki’s stories – wove a spell that beckoned to the depths of her soul.

Yet, amidst the alluring mystique of the moment, a quiet unease nestled in the recesses of Melara’s thoughts – a reminder of vulnerability that lay beneath the surface of enchantment. It was the duality of fascination and caution that whispered the danger in her ear, urging her to tread lightly in the captivating presence of the god of mischief himself.

Sensing the subtle shift in the air, Melara made a decision wrapped in a smile tinged with finality. As Loki spoke, with a graceful excuse and a gaze reflecting the desire for one more moment hearing his voice, Melara stood, collected her belongings – which included the shoes she had removed earlier – and departed quickly. Loki watched her, astonished, as the woman ran out of the tavern, leaving the promise of an unfinished tale that lingered in the tavern’s hushed whispers.

Though he could have let the night end there, and he might even have used magic to follow her, Loki instead stood to run after Melara. He exited onto the street, and she was nowhere to be found. Just as quickly as this woman had entered his existence, so too had she vanished without a trace. For a human, she certainly had cast a spell on him so effortlessly and then just as easily eluded him, besting him before he had even known that a game was afoot.

Loki looked up at the night sky, letting out a silent plea to find this Melara again, if only for one moment. He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, reopening them to find that he was back on the throne at the end of time. No longer seeing through the eyes of his makeshift avatar, he was already longing for the presence of someone he had just barely met. He knew this feeling and it ate at him.

Isolating the strand of time that he had just returned from, he glanced at the branches running through his fingers. He noted that the strand glowed much brighter than the others surrounding it. Playing with the strand as it danced through his fingers, Loki noted how it was stronger and thicker than the other timelines. Should anyone have the strength to find themselves here, fighting to destroy the realities he protected, this one would surely take much more strength than others to break off. That fact caused the curiosity within him to surge. There had to be a way to find her again.

But first, he had to rebuild his strength. It had taken so much power within him to cast a projection of himself that could interact with Melara’s timeline all while his corporeal body continued to wield the strands of time and keep them alive, the task he had taken on for which he had sacrificed so much. Now this human with the power to summon him with a song threatened to upend his very existence. She was even wearing his colors when they had met, quite the cosmic coincidence. She was just as her shirt said, a beautiful disaster.

----

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr

#loki masterlist #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki marvel #loki #loki series

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michelleleewise · 2 years

Text

Secrets

Pairing: Loki x plus-size reader

Warnings: self esteem issues, some swearing (song lyrics), fluff.....all the fluff

Summary: Loki invites you to dinner, with a very important question.....

Part 18-

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It had been a little over a month since Emma met Loki, and the two were thick as thieves. She begged for him to come over, his response "who am I to disappoint my princess." Making you smile. They spent most of their time conspiring against you. "She can't say no to both of us." You'd heard him say as he contstructed a pillow fort in the living room. You would always smile and sigh, what did you get yourself into. But if you were honest, you were never happier.

"Hey y/n, we don't have a closer tonight, she called in." Sarah told you coming in the kitchen. "Ok, I'll call Mel and make sure she can watch Emma." You said heading to your office. You got off the phone, her telling you Bucky was going to be over but wasn't an issue to watch Emma. You were about to set your phone down as you got a text.

You smiled as you put your phone down after reading the "I love you" more then a few times. You absolutely adored him, and felt bad you couldn't make it, wondering what he wanted to ask.

You sent eveyone home, wiping down the counters, putting the pans away seeing it was almost closing you decided to call it, lock the doors and throw some music on, smiling that the last time you did you tried to impale Loki with a spatula. You flipped the sign, and turned half the lights off as you picked a song, one you wanted to dedicate to Loki.

Made a wrong turn, once or twice Dug my way out, blood and fire Bad decisions, that's alright Welcome to my silly life

You sang along with the lyrics as you began sweeping, twirling around the broom.

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood Miss knowing it's all good, it didn't slow me down Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated Look, I'm still around

You felt the music take over you as you swayed through the shop, singing as loud as you could, turning to see Loki waving through the glass, smiling you waved for him to come in, as green light surrounded him and he was in the shop. "Dance with me!" You yelled grabbing his hands as you swayed back and forth.

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel Like you're less than fuckin' perfect Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing You're fuckin' perfect to me

You let your hair down, pulling his jacket off, tossing it somewhere as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his going around your waist as you continued singing the lyrics to him as he gave you the biggest smile.

You're so mean When you talk About yourself, you were wrong Change the voices In your head Make them like you instead So complicated, look happy, you'll make it Filled with so much hatred, such a tired game It's enough, I've done all I can think of

Chased down all my demons, I've seen you do the same, oh

You looked into his eyes as you sang, they seemed soft, almost vulnerable as he head the lyrics. You leaned up kissing his cheek before serenading him again

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel Like you're less than fuckin' perfect Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing You're fuckin' perfect to me

You laid your head on his chest as his arms tightened around you, closing your eyes you listened to his heart beat, as you swayed back and forth you knew without any doubt that this man was your happy ending.

Yeah, oh, oh pretty, pretty please Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel Like you're less than fuckin' perfect Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing You're fuckin' perfect to me, yeah

You're perfect, you're perfect

As the song ended, you opened your eyes, looking up at him you pulled him down, pressing your lips to his as he held head, slowly deepening the kiss as he lifted you up setting you on the nearest table. You pulled back panting, lacing your arms around his middle as he laid his forehead on yours. "That song was for you love." You said as he looked at you, smiling. "I love you so much." He said cupping your cheek.

"What was it you wanted to ask me?" You asked playing with the hem of his shirt. "Oh, yes well, you see." He started, looking around as you cupped his cheeks "You can ask me anything Loki." You smiled as you felt him relax "Darling, you and Emma have brought so much love into my life, I can barely stand to be away from you, either of you." He said looking down. "We love you too." You said caressing his cheek. "Would you.....umm....would you like to move in with me?" He asked looking at you, waiting for your answer.

"Well, I'll have to talk to Emma, but my answer is yes, and if she adores you half as much as I think she does, she'll say yes too." You said as he smiled "really?" He asked "yes, really." You said as he pulled you into him, hugging you hard "l...loki...cant......breath." you panted as he let go "oh sorry, I'm just..." he said shifting back and forth "happy? Me too." You said. "Do you want to come over tonight? I'm almost done, and we can start looking for places." You smiled as he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you passionately. "I would love to." He breathed as he hugged you again. You couldn't wait for the next chapter of your life to begin.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚🍰🍰🍰🍰💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

@vbecker10 @lokisprettygirl22 @mcufan72 @midnights-ramblings @sonatabee @catalina712 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kilikina34512 @delightfulheartdream @froggiecky @sinsandguilt @sweetberry47 @buttercupbestie @wtfislifeugh @asgardianprincess1050 @commanding-officer @lovingchoices14 @crystaldragonborne @juulle987 @xorpsbane @elenaysusneuras @yoongissidebitchh @daggers-and-mischief @lightupmyjass @plut0min @lulubelle814 @lucylaufeyson3 @howdidurhammergrowchris @d1a2n389 @lokiprompts @sititran @kats72 @awesomephilosophus @justagirlthatlikesanime @lokisninerealms @storybrook-beck @yunho-leeknow @high-functioning-lokipath @glitterylokislut @huntress-artemiss @lonadane

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kilikina34512 · 2 months

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Falling in Love Just a Little Bit

I found a moment to write something for a holiday and had it done on time! There's a first time for everything! It's short and small and not what I'd originally wanted to do for the day of love, but I worked with my real life demands and was able to create this, so I'm happy. I hope it makes you just as happy as it makes me.

This story is inspired by this TikTok. Not sure why this scene below is what popped in my head as I watched it, but I stopped trying to understand how my logic jumps around long ago. Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics. Make sure to check them out!

Pairing: Loki x f!OC (Astra)

Summary: The mortal Loki can't help but admire puts him unknowingly further under her spell.

Warnings: fluffy cute

Word Count: 854

Loki opened the door to his rooms at the tower and paused for a moment before continuing all the way in and closing the door silently behind him. Bracing against it, he crossed his arms and enjoyed the show in front of him with a smirk on his face. Astra, the housekeeper of the tower and a woman he was beyond enamored with, was dancing around his room. Despite the fact he couldn't hear the song she was listening to due to her headphones, he was enjoying her melodic voice as she belted the words to the song in her ears.

"Would things be easier if there was a right way? Honey, there is no right way," she crooned as she bounced and swayed her hips to the beat only she could hear. It was then she spun and he couldn't fight the full smile that pulled at his lips as his heart tried to leap out of his chest. Her long hair that looked as if it was made of moonlight swung with her movements, revealing her pale, heart shaped face. Eyes he knew were a brown so deep it was almost black were closed as naturally pink lips moved to the lyrics. Letting his eyes trail down from there, he noticed something that had him both anxious and amused.

Lifted near her luscious lips was the pummel of his favorite dagger, the one who's pair sat resting on his desk across the room. With her small hand wrapped around the hilt, he stared as she used it the same way Loki had watched Stark wield the device they called a microphone at his parties. The God nearly launched himself over to take it from her, fearful she might accidentally hurt herself, but he held back. He had his magic, and if it appeared she was about to cause herself injury, he'd summon it to his own hand instead.

"And so I fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit. Everyday with someone new. I fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit," Astra continued, her voice just as hypnotizing as her body with is graceful sway. It was everything he could do to keep the heart eyes out of his expression. Her bouncing hips were enticing and he desired to rest his cold hands against them as he moved his body with her; a fantasy that he had many times. He'd wanted to tell her numerous times how he fancied her, but after what he'd done there years ago, he couldn't bring himself to. He, like with Mjolnir, wasn't worthy of her.

In the middle of the chorus she was singing, her eyes suddenly opened before she squealed. The jump she made had him following through on his safety measures, his dagger suddenly appearing in his hand. "What an interesting choice for a singing instrument, my little nightingale. Of all things in this room, you chose one of my favorite daggers." A bit of a stern look crossed his face as he continued, "A fairly unsafe choice, but I cannot say I was not entertained."

Pink that matched her shock-parted lips filled her cheeks and was spreading throughout her face, her embarrassment painted for any to see. "Oh gosh, Loki! I'm so sorry! I know I shouldn't have... I was just... I just get..." She couldn't seem to get the rest of her thought out, but this was not his first time peering unknowingly at the housekeeper. He'd watched Astra around the residential area of the tower since she'd started working for Stark. He knew there were times when the music seemed to capture her as if it had her in a trance. When that happened, he enjoyed seeing her grab whatever was nearby that fit into her hand and she'd swing, sway, bounce, or jump along to her singing. She always looked happier than he'd ever seen her when those moments happened, and he lived for spying on those moments.

"It is alright, dear," he comforted as he slowly stalked closer to her. "I do understand that you were enjoying the song you could hear. "It was quite fetching a sight you displayed. I only came to claim my book before reading in the sitting room." It was a lie, he'd planned to read in his room where he could be alone and undisturbed, but he would rather be bothered than disrupt her joyous daze the act of singing and dancing gave her.

With a snap of his fingers, he replaced the dagger in his hand with a novel from his shelf. "Have fun, little nightingale," he called as he turned on his heel and departed the room with a new memory to enjoy when he was away from her. What he missed when he left as Astra continued to hear the words "I fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit" in her ears was the longing in her gaze, the way her heart had sped up in his presence, or the thought about how true that one line was when it came to the God of Mischief in her eyes.

#loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki fic #loki x ofc #kili stories #cute story #valentines day

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sorcharavenlock · 9 months

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28. A night at the pub.

After talking to Frigga, Loki's mood improves a lot.

He goes running with Fenrir the next morning...

...and I catch him dancing in the kitchen!

"Mari, come listen! I learned to play a new song!"

Oh, so I'm 'Mari' now! I smile and make my way into the basement.

Before I know it, Loki is singing along with the song he's playing on the guitar. I soon realise it's "Every little thing she does is magic" by 'The Police':

"Though I've tried before to tell her

Of the feelings I have for her in my heart

Every time that I come near her

I just lose my nerve as I've done from the start

Every little thing she does is magic..."

Loki has a nice voice, and he only misses a few notes on the guitar. but halfway through the song his mood changes.

"Never mind, it's a silly song anyway," he says as he stops playing.

"I liked it," I say softly. But Loki floats through the wall before I can stop him.

of course, the last thing he wants to do is encourage my "delusional sentiments" for him...

We agreed to meet up with the others in the pub on Saturday night. I am wearing a new dress and Loki's mood has improved immeasurably.

It is quiet at 'The Gnome's Arms' and we sit down together.

"Hey, you've got your eyebrows fully back!" Loki comments to Nea. "What? I've never lost them in the fire, I just tinted them differently," she grins.

"I'm so glad you are here," I whisper to Kitty. "I think Loki knows I have feelings for him and he hates it!"

"I'm sure you're wrong," Kitty whispers back. "I saw the way he was looking at you when we came in!"

I suddenly feel a lot better.

We order drinks and sit down at one of the tables.

"I did as you nagged and I contacted my ancestral witch," Loki begins. "To my surprise, my Mother was the one to answer."

"That is great!" Kitty says. "You mean your biological mother?"

"No," Loki corrects, "My real mother. The one who raised me, looked after me, and taught me everything that I know about magic.."

"Frigga agrees with you, Kitty," I say. "We need to find Thor. But we don't really know how to go about it."

"I might have an idea," Nea says. "you know how I'm a bit of an amateur photographer? It's really just a hobby," she explains to Loki.

"Anyway, I'm part of an online photography group. We share hints and tips and stuff. I have a friend there, he calls himself 'Webhead2001'. We've been chatting on and off, his real name is Peter. He lives in New York, and he's been posting amazing pics of the Avengers. A lot of Spiderman pics actually, I think he might be a bit of a fan. He seems to be able to get pretty close to him. I could DM him and ask if he can help us contact Thor?"

"That is a brilliant idea!" I say. "Sure, send him a DM. Maybe tell him we know something about Loki that Thor would love to know?"

"I'll contact him tomorrow," Nea promises.

We have a few more drinks, and Nea and Loki end up giggling more and more with each drink they have!

There's a dartboard in the pub, and soon Loki persuades us to play. I'm terrible at it, and Nea and Loki nearly fall over with laughter as I miss the board.

Loki is the next to try.

Loki doesn't completely miss, but he doesn't score a point either.

"I'm a bit rusty," he shrugs.

"Watch me, I've got this!"

Nea's aim is good but the dart misses the board by a hair!

"I bet he's going to miss again, darts aren't daggers," Kitty says to Nea.

This time Loki scores two points!

Nea tries again, but while her dart clearly hits the board, she gets no points.

"Whaaa?" she looks at the board in confusion.

Kitty and I giggle, we have an idea who might be behind this!

"I know you are cheating," I say quietly to Loki, who smiles mischievously.

Nea doesn't score a single point despite hitting the board multiple times!

"YOU!" She realises. "LOKI!"

"What?" Loki asks innocently.

"I know you are cheating!" Nea accuses him.

"You might know, but you can not prove it!" Loki smirks.

"GAAAAAH!" Nea looks at me. "How do you put up with him?"

(despite her grumbling, Nea and Loki just became Good Friends!)

We all hang out together for a bit longer, but it's getting late and Fenrir is bored and in need of his evening walk, so we say goodbye.

I'm about to head up the stairs when Loki stops me. He suddenly seems tense.

"What is it?" I ask, wondering what's bothering him.

"It's about what I said the other night," Loki begins hesitantly.

"Okay?" I'm not sure what he is talking about, but I'm listening.

"Never mind," Loki changes his mind. "It is late and you are tired. sleep well." And with that, he walks out of the door to take Fenrir for his evening walk.

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oneshortdamnfuse · 20 days

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Bro you did such a good job mapping out Ghost songs I should start and I was wondering if you could recommend songs from Amon Amarth :3

Aww hell yeah

I've been a fan of Amon Amarth longer than Ghost. You have no idea the euphoria I felt when Ghost had announced Amon Amarth would be touring with them last summer. I never in a million years thought that I'd see them live, but I did and they were great!

This is what their stage looked like:

They're called "Viking Metal" sometimes because they often sing about Norse Mythology and Viking history, but they're a Melodic Death Metal band. All their songs are great fun and there's opportunities for fan interaction in a lot of songs.

For example, in the following songs:

Raise Your Horns - Fans raise their drinks into the air when he sings "raise your horns, raise them up to the sky" as he's referencing drinking horns (not devil horns).

Put Your Back Into The Oar - Fans sit on the ground or in their seats and "row" their "boats" when he says "row." Frontman Johan Hegg shows great crowd control in this moment.

Heidrun - When Johan sings "Who's the goat? Who's the goat?", fans shout "Heidrun! Heidrun!" (Heidrun is a mead producing goat who feeds Odin's army of warriors in Valhalla)

While they have these "fun" standalone songs, they also have themed albums. One of my favorites is an album about Loki called "Deceiver of the Gods." Some of my favorite songs on that album are:

Deceiver of the Gods

As Loke Falls

Father of the Wolf

Shape Shifter

Their probably most well known song - and it is honestly one of my favorite songs by them, is Twilight of the Thunder Gods. Sabaton did an awesome cover of it, too.

Some other ones I love include:

Guardians of Asgaard

Raven's Flight

Tattered Banners and Bloody Flags

The Pursuit of Vikings

All of their songs are pretty heavy, but they're like Ghost in that they're theatrical. Johan Hegg has a deep gutteral voice, but his singing isn't "muddy" on stage. It's like annunciated growling 😅

I recommend listening to one of their "fun" songs first and then exploring one of their albums. 😁

#amon amarth #asks

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lulubelle814 · 2 months

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Regards, Loki - Chapter 37

Master List

Once her mask was off, her eyes remained on the floor for a moment, staring at her feet until she heard something surprising from him.

“Ms. Ward?” Her eyes darted up, his face looking familiar.

She knew that face from somewhere, but she couldn’t quite place it. “How do you know my name?” Thinking for a moment, she realized he seemed familiar. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“I’m James Conrad. You work for my company. Well, you did work for my company.” He sighed, not wanting to bring up bad memories. So he thought best to keep it brief. “I, uh, I was the one who found you when Mr. Price……”

It clicked. He was the one who rescued her from her fiendish boss. “It was you. You saved me.”

He nodded slowly. “I regret that day.”

Louisa was confused. “Why? Why would you regret saving me?”

“I don’t regret saving you. Not one bit. I regret not having found him sooner so that you would not have been in that horrid situation.”

She gave him a soft smile. “You didn't know. Besides, you saved me before it got even worse. I don’t know how to even begin to thank you for what you did, Mr. Conrad.”

“Please, call me James.”

She returned his smile. “And you may call me Louisa. My friend calls me Lou sometimes.”

He smiled. “Would that friend be Frigga?”

She laughed. “Yes, although her real name is Cora.”

Without thinking, he cupped her face with his hand. It felt natural, like he’d done it a thousand times before. Louisa found herself leaning into his soft touch. He silently asked her for permission for what he wanted to do, which she granted. Leaning in, he gave her a soft kiss.

Without even a moment’s hesitation, she returned his kiss. In that moment, time stopped, everything around them disappearing. It was the kiss to end all kisses, trumping the kiss between Westley and Buttercup.

As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he wrapped his arms around her waist. It was at this time they both felt complete for the first time in their lives. Neither wanted for air, but their lungs began burning for the necessity of oxygen. Parting for air, they continued to hold each other.

“I must apologize, unreservedly, for that.” He felt a bit guilty, having kissed a woman he only just met in person.

“Don’t,” she said, smiling at him as she cupped his cheek. It was his turn to lean into her touch. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

If he could, he would sweep her off her feet, taking her to some far off corner of the world, any and every place she wanted to see. He wanted to give her everything. After all, she’d already stolen his heart.

Suddenly, they could hear the people and music around them again. Taking a step back, he offered his hand. Once she accepted it, he led them back to the dance floor as her favorite song from the movie began to play.

He held her close, as if she might float away any moment, not that she minded. Leaning his face in, he sang in a whisper into her ear.

I'll paint you mornings of gold

I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now

His singing voice could spin gold, making rumpelstiltskin obsolete. It was this moment she felt………..no……….she knew his arms were the only place she wanted to be for the rest of her life, and it was obvious to anyone looking that he felt the same.

They danced the night away until the gala was over, except they weren’t ready to leave.

Clearing his throat, James asked, “may I escort you home?” He wasn’t ready to say goodnight, not yet.

“I’d like that.” They walked out, him handing his ticket to the valet to collect his car. Louisa began shivering as it was very cold outside. Removing his jacket, James placed it over her shoulders, then rubbing her arms to help warm her up. His jacket smelled of his cologne, a scent she wanted to remember forever.

As soon as the car pulled around, he opened the passenger door for her, helping with her dress. Once safely inside, he gently closed her door before running around to the driver’s side. Thankfully, the valet had the forethought to turn on the heat, helping them to brush off the frigid temperatures.

Pulling up to her building, he parked his car, getting out and walking to her side to assist her in safely exiting the vehicle. Louisa still wore his jacket as he walked with her up the stairs and to her apartment door. When they reached it, she hesitated, unwilling for the night to end. Instead of bidding good night, she invited him in for a cup of tea to which he happily obliged.

From the moment he entered her apartment, all he could smell was her perfume, a mix of baked goods, and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on but still enjoyed. Looking around, he saw the peacock blue couch she’d mentioned a few weeks ago.

As she went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, he followed. “You’re welcome to change if you’d like. I can’t imagine that dress would be comfortable to sit in.” She hesitated but agreed when he insisted.

Going into her room, the garment bag she’d dropped off with Cora was hanging on the closet door. Slipping out of her dress, she carefully placed it on the hanger and closed the garment bag before grabbing a pair of cute but comfy wide leg sweatpants and an old shirt as well as some wool socks as her feet were cold.

In the meantime, James slipped off his shoes and loosened his bowtie, leaving it to hang around his neck as he rolled up his sleeves. He could hear Louisa moving about in her room humming to herself, and it made him smile.

When she came back into the living room, he could see she did indeed make herself comfortable. She’d pulled the pins out of her hair, letting it flow just past her shoulders. All he wanted to do at that moment was comb his fingers through that hair. Instead, he kept his hands to himself.

She made it to the kitchen as the kettle started whistling. Taking it off the stove, she popped her head in the living room. “Any preferences?”

Shaking his head, it didn’t matter what kind of tea she made. He knew he’d like it. Sure enough, she came out a couple of minutes later with two cups of hibiscus and berry tea. “I hope this is okay. It’s one of my favorites.”

Accepting the cup, it already smelled wonderful to him, causing him to smile. Sipping it, he hummed in contentment. “This is delicious. I’ve never tried this before.”

“I found it at a tea shop I found a few weeks ago. I’m afraid to say I’m a bit addicted.” Soft laughter filled the air. If he could only hear one sound for the rest of his life, it would be her laugh.

“I can taste why. Maybe you could show me that shop sometime?”

She smiled and nodded as she sat down on the couch. He followed suit and sat down at one end while she was cozied up in the middle, her feet tucked under her. They drank their tea in companionable silence before she popped up and ran back to the kitchen. She returned back to the couch with a container full of goodies, placing it on the coffee table before removing the lid.

Peering over, there were some biscuits and a couple of brownies. He looked to her for confirmation before taking one of the biscuits. From the moment it entered his mouth, he felt pure and utter bliss. He could die right now, a perfectly happy man with a cup of tea, a delicious biscuit, and a beautiful woman he’d fallen in love with over all those emails and texts.

They spent the next hour or so relaxing and chatting not realizing they were slowly getting closer and closer to each other. At some point when he was responding, he turned to look at her, and she’d fallen asleep. He gently pulled the blanket from the back of the couch (it was the same one he’d given her in the get well basket) and placed it on top of her. As he did so, she began to lean against him, using him as a sort of pillow, not that he minded one bit. He placed his arm on the top of the couch behind her and shortly fell asleep himself.

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss @jaidenhawke

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