#Loki looking at Thor captured by SHIELD being numb and pathetic: this is going to be SO funny later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sserpente · 5 years

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As a last resort

A/N & Synopsis: Based on a prompt sent to me by @imboredsueme:

The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes--they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble: “...didn’t know where else to go...”, then collapse into the villain’s arms.

Sometimes, inspiration strikes you and when it does, you have to strike back. Featuring one of my favourite AU’s. 😉

Words: 2542 Warnings: Loki wins AU, mentions of drug use, drink spiking and attempted rape, fluff

Things were different around New York City ever since the Chitauri attack. Ever since the Avengers, hope of civilisation, society and humanity, had lost Earth to a man as beautiful as he was dangerous and the disappointment and anger the people had met you with on the streets had driven you further into living a hazardous life in the shadows.

Loki had announced a hefty bounty for your capture. Yours, and that of his adoptive brother Thor, Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. Heavens knew whether Tony Stark, Bruce Banner and Clint Barton were still alive after they had disappeared in the Avengers’… Loki’s tower around six months after the alien invasion. But the remaining Avengers were out there somewhere, hiding and planning to overthrow his ruling.

You had long given up on them trying to find you. Perhaps they thought you were dead—that you, a young woman with mere combat skills and two failed assassination attempts before you were recruited by the man you had been assigned to kill and became part of the Avengers only a few days after the God of Mischief had arrived on Earth to claim it, could not possibly survive this long in a realm ruled by chaos and malice.

They had left you and given up on you, choking you with all the hope that had swelled up in your chest every night before you curled up in a dirty rain barrel you had found to sleep in. Realisation had hit you after almost two years hiding among the homeless. You were alone in this world. You always had been. You had just been naïve enough to believe that the Avengers would finally change that.

Sure. The word, in the truest sense of its meaning, had sealed your fate tonight. You had shaken the devil’s hand, unsuspecting of the fatal deal you had struck. He was supposed to be an ally. Henry lived near the eerie scrap yard in the suburbs. He made money by stealing cars and selling the parts to shady dealers and they paid him enough to afford a flat he shared with friends. You had never asked but according to their looks, they were both drug dealers.

You had agreed to join them for a drink in a bar they knew would be safe for you to stroll in. Your face was all over the news, after all, the sum announced on your head making most people around New York City dizzy. It was high. Not as high as the bounty promised for the capture of Thor but higher than the bounty placed onto Captain America and Black Widow. Loki and you had fought in the past, regardless of you getting overwhelmed by the much stronger Asgardian, numerous times. He had offered you a way out to join him and you had refused. Now, self-preservation and the will to survive this hellhole New York City had become urging you on, you wished you hadn’t. Loki was a cunning and arrogant man. Something about you had fascinated him enough not to kill you when he brought you to his feet, disarmed and breathing heavily. But he had sworn revenge for your denial and rejection, for attempting to foil his plans.

When you realised that Henry’s friends, having asked for his consent prior to their actions, had spiked your drink, it was already too late. Whatever drug it was that now attacked your blood so aggressively and messed with your mind and thoughts, it burned like liquid fire in your stomach.

They had underestimated your combat skills when they dragged your weakened form outside through the back door to tear your clothes off your body which resulted in ugly holes revealing your skin on your thighs, stomach and chest. And you had fought back, striking with all your might and reaching for every body part that might hurt upon being hit as they had almost taken from you what you protected and cherished so dearly. Blood was streaming from your nose and the throbbing cut on your lip as well as a wound on your forehead. There were more injuries, for sure. The adrenaline cursing through your blood merely shut out the agony.

Bruises already formed on your stomach, one of the straps of your bra broken and revealing another cut right above your breast. A knife. Henry’s knife had done that. You would kill him for that and this time your assassination would not fail… if your survived this.

You moaned in pain when you heaved yourself into a dark alley to shield yourself from unwanted gazes. This was bad. This was really bad. You needed help but a hospital was out of the question. They would not help you without costs you could never cover without any insurance and if they recognised you…

Tears spilled from your eyes when another wave of sharp pain tore through your body, numbing your senses. You knew what fainting felt like… and you would lose consciousness soon if you didn’t act now and wanted to die in this alley. Your threw your head back, taking a deep breath which turned into a desperate sob.

Your sight blurred when you looked up into the cold night to see Loki’s tower protruding from the other buildings like an active volcano.

There was no need for Loki to guard the lobby downstairs, his Chitauri had made sure of that. He had made sure of that. People who walked into his tower usually did not make it back out unless they worked for him.

Sighing, he ran his fingers over his lower lip and tore his blue gaze away from the blond man who, only weeks after his victory over the Avengers, had volunteered to operate as his personal assistant and spy. He was a decommissioned politician, his motives questionable even to him—but thus far, he had proven to be useful.

His daily reports were beyond tiring and Loki could certainly think of more interesting activities to spend his evening. It was dark out already, thousands of artificial lights illuminating the nightly skyline of New York City and turning the many buildings beneath him into a murky sea.

He could use some distraction right about now. An attack, perhaps. Thor paying him a visit and starting yet another futile and brainless attempt to overthrow him with the sheer strength of his beloved hammer… sighing once more, he dismissed his lackey mid-sentence and leaned back in his cosy armchair, enjoying how silence spread in his living room and for once, letting his guard down.

That’s why the silent pling of the elevator caught him off guard, surprise and confusion rumbling inside of him as he stood to face the metal doors open to reveal… you. Loki closed the distance between the armchair and the elevator so fast any other human would have been intimidated but in your current state, you did not even notice.

What in the nine realms had happened to you? What were you doing here? If the Chitauri had caught you, one of their leaders would have been with you. If a bounty hunter had dragged you up, they would be demanding their reward right now.

Narrowing his blue eyes at you hostilely, he only took the time now to inspect your pathetic form. You were bleeding from several wounds, your clothes torn, skin covered in bruises and even cuts. Angry handprints and marks staining your flesh. Finally, you gathered the physical strength to look up at him shivering and scared, your eyes glazed and somewhat… abstracted. It was obvious you had been drugged by someone. What had happened?

“…I didn’t know where else to go…” You croaked out. Then, your eyelids flattered close and you collapsed into Loki’s arms.

The room you woke up in was not familiar. It was huge and spacious, neatly filled with dark brown furniture accentuated by golden engravings and green fabrics. The bed sheets covering your almost naked body were green too. Swallowing, you bit your lower lip to help ignore the pain and sat up a little to study your foreign surroundings.

A hot wave passed through you when your memories returned and hammered against your brain like Thor’s mjolnir, the amount of green and gold in the room a mocking reminder. Loki.

“You are awake.” Flinching hurt when his voiced pulled you back to the present. Next to him, the entire room appeared meagre and tiny, like his mere presence shrunk it all down. Your eyes locked with his, a scrutinising glare boring into you. Another memory. You had passed out in his arms. Your lips parted to respond but Loki cut you off before you could utter a single word.

“Tell me what happened to you.” It was not a question, it was a demand. But an explanation for why you had showed up at the very man’s doorstep who had suspended a bounty of a million dollars on you was the least you owed him.

I didn’t know where else to go, you had mumbled half-unconscious. Loki doubted you remembered your words and yet they had been echoing in his head ever since he had called for some nurses and a doctor. They had patched you up quickly, sewing the laceration on your forehead and tending to the wounds on the rest of your body. They had taken a sample of your blood, too, quickly finding the right antidote to fight the drug in your blood. You would recover.

What had you meant by “I didn’t know where else to go”? Surely, whoever was left of the Avengers would have come to your help nobly sooner or later. Loki wondered, genuinely, why they hadn’t. But even more important was the question why he had helped you.

He could have let you die and bleed out on his green carpet then and there, saving the bounty and announcing yet another victory to the already terrified people living under his reign in New York City. To decide against it had been impetuous and he had spent hours watching your sleeping form in his own bed attempting to figure out his motives.

And he had come to a conclusion. No matter whose side you had fought on two years ago, the moment you had stepped into that elevator, you were an innocent and likely assaulted woman in the need of help. You had come to him, of all people, knowing there was a chance he would bury his pointy sceptre deep in your stomach as soon as you stepped over the threshold. You had laid your life in his hands, presenting your head to him on a silver platter… and despite everything that had happened, you had trusted him enough to save you.

His question stirred up memories you did not want to harbour. Squeezing your eyes shut, you took a deep and painful breath.

“They tricked me. My drink… it was spiked. Outside, they tried to…” Your voice broke, tears worsening your sight. “They tried to rape me.”

Loki’s poignant expression darkened. “Who?” He growled. Would it make any difference to him if he knew? He could send for the Chitauri to kill whoever had dared to lay a hand on you and ravish you against your will. He clenched his fists. But why, by the Norns, would he care?

“Henry… his friends… I should have known better, I considered him a friend! He… he shared his food with me.” Out on the streets of New York City, starvation was one of the most common causes of death, right after death from exposure, drug use and alcohol poisoning and murder. Sharing food was a big deal.

Another look into Loki’s blue and nearly unreadable eyes made you burst out crying. You had no power to stop it, nor to hold it in until he had left. It must have been some kind of delayed shock that made you shake and sob uncontrollably with a start, hugging your knees to your chest for some sort of comfort.

Loki began pacing up and down his bedroom, unsure of how to deal with the situation in the most calculated way possible.

“You came to me fully aware of the consequences.” He stated bluntly, his voice surprisingly quiet. Another sob of yours tore through the air before you looked up at him so helplessly Loki felt a strange sting in his heart.

“You… treated my wounds. You won’t kill me now, w-will you? I know you are not that cruel, Loki.” Loki demanded respect and he demanded being addressed properly. As of right now, he was the king of this realm—he was your king. The provocative undertone in your voice when you spoke his name, despite your devastation, did not go unnoticed. It suited you and intrigued him. You had not lost your fire then.

“I just… I’m all alone. I didn’t know where else to go and you…” You did not finish your sentence as you did not know how. But there it was again. I didn’t know where else to go. You were right, of course. He would never kill you. You might have been an Avenger but you had not been so with all your heart. You acted out of desperation and the need of recognition, affection and praise—in which aspect, when he had first met and fought you, he had seen himself.

He had approached you before he knew himself, his feet taking control of his actions. You leaned back intimidated when he came to a halt right in front of you. Your fear of him was palpable. Loki was right. You had come to him knowing the consequences. Without probing you knew that he would not let you out of this tower again—and only Heaven knew if you would live long enough to deal with the gravity of your actions.

Yet, at the very same time, you felt an overwhelming gratefulness washing over your mangled body when your eyes locked with his once more. Loki could have let you die pathetically. He could have killed you the moment the elevator doors opened to reveal your weakened form… and he did not.

“Thank you. For saving me.”

What he did next surprised you both. Loki lifted his arm, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek. Long and soft fingers caressing your wet skin. It was a light, gentle and hesitant touch as if he was trying to figure out what to do with you—and the odd sensations in his chest ever since you had collapsed in his arms.

Your lower lip was shaking as your eyes fell shut upon his tender touch. You did not realise you began sobbing again and wrapped your arms around his middle until you were already holding onto him, desperate to forget your assault. Loki… held you. Hesitantly and rather maladroitly, he pressed you against him almost possessively. In any other situation, you would have snorted at your stupidity. You were hugging the villain. Why… did this feel so right?

He would positively kill Henry and his friends, slowly and intimately, to avenge you. But first, he would have to thank them for driving you into his arms.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! kofi.com/sserpente ♥

Additional disclaimer: The original prompt that inspired this story seemed to have originally been posted by @one-lonely-whumperfly.

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