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lokisgoodgirl · 2 years

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God Complex [Soft!Dom Loki x Fem. Reader] 18+

You can find my Masterlist HERE Summary: You’ve been desperate to get a taste of Loki’s legendary old ways on Asgard - tonight, you’ll get what you desire. [w/c 1.6k] Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, Language, Soft!Dom

"Alright love, but you must promise not to be angry with me when we’re done."

Loki folded his newspaper as he uncrossed his legs on the leather chair, looking down at you as you pleaded enticingly from the floor.

"Promise?"

Your head nodded so fast you lost focus as excitement soared in your belly. He was going to do it. This was actually happening. Finally.

He rose, his insanely long legs extending above you as the tantalising expanse of his black chino-clad thighs met your eye level.

"Close your eyes."

You obeyed, biting your bottom lip with anticipation.

You had been begging Loki for months to let you experience his sexual ‘god-mode’, how he used to fuck on Asgard, taking what he wanted, when he wanted it, anywhere - anytime. And Norns, he had wanted it all.

He had told you half-stories of wanton and willing servants, nights of al-fresco debauchery with ambassadors’ wives and absolute corruption of starry-eyed debutantes; his ivory cheeks growing pink as he tentatively shared past indiscretions while lying intertwined with you under the sheets. He was a changed man, and you loved that. Truly.

But...you also loved the idea of being royally, savagely, irrevocably fucked by the infamous Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies and Sexual Devastation.

The hum of evening traffic outside your bedroom window vanished, replaced by a warm stillness interrupted only by the gentle murmur of crickets, and a low crackling that you couldn’t quite place.

"Open."

Your eyelids fluttered, adjusting to the dim light as you tilted your chin upwards.

Loki remained in position, but this was not the Loki you knew.

He was wearing full Asgardian royal garb, thick boots leading to leather-clad muscular legs which flexed enticingly as he adjusted his stance, his armour and horned helmet glinting in the firelight flickering from torches hanging on thick stone walls.

A luxurious green cape fluttered languishingly on the breeze, drawing attention to the long staff in his hand, rooted to the ground, his arm extended to the side as he towered over you like a king. Like a god.

Holy shit.

"Well? What would you ask of your Prince this night?"

You faltered. His voice was lofty and regal, a thread of condescension woven inextricably within his words.

"You are on your knees, so surely you are here to ask the God of Mischief a favour...a service, perhaps…?"

You lowered your gaze subconsciously to your lap as he spoke, noticing for the first time that you now wore a luxurious dress of deep emerald, gold edging matching the gilded leather fit flush to your lover’s torso.

His hand shot underneath your lowered jaw, encasing it between his thumb and forefinger as he forced your eyes up to meet his. They were stern, his pupils dilated with menacing lust, his mouth twitching in amusement as he held you effortlessly in his other-wordly grip.

"When a god asks you a question, mortal, it is wise to reply."

You inhaled a staggered breath as he coaxed you to stand, his fingers still pressing in to your chin before releasing you with a snort of derision.

"Just as I thought, when finally granted an audience you have nothing to say."

He spat his words like vinegar, venom flecked on every syllable as his jaw clenched. Unadulterated superiority flashing in his darkened eyes as he ran them onerously over your body, lingering on the bare skin of your cleavage which glowed invitingly in the light of the nearby flames.

You took a deep breath, the reality of your fantasy sinking in as you felt the lips of your pussy slick together beneath your dress, a pool of unhinged desire sliding between your thighs as your senses overloaded. Whatever you were expecting, this was more.

"I beg forgiveness my prince’, your meek tone surprising you as he observed you with interest, ‘I was hoping-"

"Hope?’ Loki smirked, cutting you off. ‘Hope is for the weak. For meaningless commoners who do not hold destiny in their grasp and never shall…"

He moved forward as he spoke – and you stepped back automatically, your stomach growing heavy at his words as the feeling pressed to your core, fizzing with adrenaline under the dominantly rich voice of the figure of legend before you.

"Gods do not hope. We take."

Your bare shoulders hit one of the immense pillars which encircled the balcony, all of Asgard laid out beneath you in speckled lights as he stopped inches from you; his chin lowered, eyes raised.

"Do you want me to take you, pet...is that why you have come here this night?"

"Yes" you whispered, the feeble sound catching in your throat.

His horned helmet and staff vanished in a flash of seidr, revealing dark curled hair spilling to his shoulders, the collar of his tunic framing his mouthwatering jawline which cast shadows to his cheekbones in the illuminated gloom.

"Say my name, girl" he growled as he pinned one arm to the pillar above your shoulder, "I want to make sure you know who will own you completely before we are done here."

"Loki" you spluttered breathlessly, "...Prince of Asgard. God of Mischief and Lies and ohhh- Loki…"

Suddenly his lips were upon your neck, sucking deep bruises into the delicate skin as you moaned like a whore under his touch, begging for more as his name dripped from your throat. His hand found purchase against the skirt of your gown, hoisting it upwards roughly as he sought to claim you with his fingers.

"Oh, you lovely thing" he whispered dirtily into your ear, his hot breath making your insides rage with need, "you’re so wet already for me– so prepared to receive your god’s attentions, I’m impressed."

Immediately he slid two long digits mercilessly inside your channel, eliciting a loud moan from your lips as you arched against the pillar in relief. His palm cupped your clit, gliding effortlessly against your wetness as he kneaded into you, catching your mouth in a short, violent kiss.

"What a pathetic thing you are", he chuckled darkly as you writhed beneath his fingers sliding methodically in and out of your folds, "such a whore for a god’s touch, all pretence of innocence wilting in the presence of true power…"

He withdrew his fingers and brought them to your mouth, pressing them to you before you sucked them gratefully. Loki’s authoritative voice was thick with desire as he tugged the laces underneath his leather tunic with his free hand,

"As tempting as it is to have you worship my cock on your knees with those sinful lips of yours, only a thorough fuck will satisfy my appetites tonight."

He pulled the front of your dress towards him, forcing you into a deep kiss, his tongue invading you as he manoeuvred towards the edge of the balcony. Large hands slid purposefully under your ass, pushing your dress to your hips, raising you to sit on the stone balustrade as your thighs widened.

You gasped as his long cock breached you suddenly with a powerful snap of his hips, his girth squeezing inside your waiting wet heat effortlessly, hitting your cervix with a sharp jolt as you cried his name.

"Louder."

You rocked your hips against him as he plunged deeper, filling you completely as you pulled his ass towards you with your bare calves, his long cape brushing your thighs with every slow, controlled thrust of his insatiable cock, searing your drenched pussy with his mark.

"Lokiiii", you groaned loudly, desperate to satisfy the god fucking you mercilessly on the exposed stage of his kingdom stretched out below.

Fabric from the front of your dress was bunched in his fist as he suspended you at an angle from his body, your head hovering over the side of the balcony, his other hand gripping your hip like a vice as he took his time ravaging every inch of your hot channel, begging for release.

Loki’s eyes narrowed with lust as he watched you keening beneath him sputtering his name, as you panted in desperation for his almighty cock to deliver you from your purgatory between desire and climax, completely under his control.

"Will you make your offering, pet?" he declared questioningly through strained breaths as his gyrations changed to an infuriatingly slow pace, dragging out of you before edging back in.

"Will you show your obedience to me, your undying loyalty...by cumming around your god’s cock?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head as his words washed over you, muttering moans of approval as his fingers travelled from your hip to your moistened clit, thumbing you in devastatingly measured circles, watching your stunted descent into orgasm with ferocious intensity.

"Who has done this to you, sluttish mortal?", he goaded as his cock lingered tantalisingly at your entrance, pulsing against your swollen lips as your climax hung in the air like a guillotine ready to fall; "who has broken you thus?"

"Loki…" you whispered, letting your eyes fall to his powerful form, still clad all in leather, his eyes burning with need, his thick cock ready to sheath inside you, delivering the killer blow.

He thrust upwards, pulling the fistful of fabric from your bodice to him as your lips crashed to his, winding your legs around his body as he fucked you relentlessly; his heavenly cock grazing every aching inch of pleasure inside you as you came with an extended strangled cry of his name.

He threw his head back, raven curls tumbling around his cheekbones as an earth-shattering moan of ecstasy escaped his lips. There was sudden jolt underneath you as the flames flickered like static, columns bending like foam as your god thrust into you a final time, his hot cum settling inside you as you felt the mingling of your juices beginning a descent down your thighs.

Pressing your forehead to his, you listened to his ragged breaths as you felt the space around you change, his illusion dissipating under the effects of his orgasm, his concentration shattered.

"Well darling, I hope it lived up to expectations...", he mumbled coyly as he re-hoisted your legs around his waist on the wooden table aka. the balcony.

You chuckled as you brushed a curl from his forehead, cupping his chin in your hand as you raised an eyebrow suggestively, "remember Loki – god’s don’t hope. But you can take me like that absolutely anytime you want."

Tags

@lokisninerealms

@wheredafandomat

@november-rayne

@mcufan72

@vbecker10

@lokischambermaid

@lulubelle814

@mochie85

@demoiseller

@loopsisloops

@gigglingtigger

@lokiprompts

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murdrdocs · 1 year

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5K/6K CELEBRATION

first of all, thank you for 5k and for 6k, so close together, too! it seriously means a lot. if you read for my blog, i want to also bring attention to other blogs and works that i like, and sometimes draw inspiration from! really work through this list and these blogs, show everyone here love !! xx

ꕥ represents no smut

ao3

mcu

: ̗̀➛ caroldantop's i could be your favorite girl

¡! ❞ wanda maximoff, babysitting, infidelity, milf!wanda

: ̗̀➛ talklokitome's the chase

¡! ❞ loki laufeyson, sex pollen, asgardian nature, hunter/prey, jotun heat

: ̗̀➛ endlessreverie's luck be a lady

¡! ❞ loki laufeyson, 1960s, vegas casino, loki is "some guy"

: ̗̀➛ con_fection's violence and intimacy are the only universal languages

¡! ❞ james "bucky" barnes, mean!bucky, so much just read it

: ̗̀➛ bellesque's sweet dreams

¡! ❞ loki laufeyson, incubus, creative sex, legit just read it

- ,,

star wars

: ̗̀➛ anon's this is where the fun begins

¡! ❞ anakin skywalker & obi wan kenobi, sharing is caring, voyeur anakin

: ̗̀➛ therealmaxrebo's a practical lesson in patience

¡! ❞ obi wan kebobi, some anakin akywalker, dom!obi wan

: ̗̀➛ laserbrain's exposure.

¡! ❞ anakin skywalker, public sex, possessive anakin

- ,,

detroit: become human

: ̗̀➛ precursor's deviant behavior

¡! ❞ connor, changed my entire life, one of my favorite fics of all time

: ̗̀➛ chaos_thirium's in dreams he came

¡! ❞ connor, incubus, monster fucking

- ,,

misc

: ̗̀➛ tinybluewitch's nothing's gonna hurt you baby

¡! ❞ carmen "carmy" berzatto, angst, slow burn, smut

: ̗̀➛ lettalady's a turn of the knife

I ¡! ❞ hugh "ransom" drysdale, very autumnal

: ̗̀➛ honeycombstrawberry's you are the only one

¡! ❞ adrian chase, fake/pretend relationship, haven't read yet tbh

tumblr

misc

: ̗̀➛ babbushka's poolside

¡! ❞ philip "flip" zimmerman, slightly public sex, protective husband flip

: ̗̀➛ hanasnx's final girl

¡! ❞ anakin skywalker, alternate universe, ghostface!anakin, murder

: ̗̀➛ matchmorphosis' hello, cowgirl

¡! ❞ carmen "carmy" berzatto, inspired me to get cowgirl boots

: ̗̀➛ carmybear's assembly required

¡! ❞ carmen "carmy" berzatto, established relationship, soft!carmy

: ̗̀➛ rassvetsky's carry you away with me

¡! ❞ carmen "carmy" berzatto, needy carmen >

: ̗̀➛ jangofctts's hot venom

¡! ❞ adrian chase, too much to mention, guided my adrian obsession

: ̗̀➛ love-toxin's shadysider sunshine

¡! ❞ tommy slater, one of my all time favorites, shower fucking, normal tommy

: ̗̀➛ keravnous' bathroom b!tch

¡! ❞ tangerine, bathroom sex, semi canon-complicit

nonpoppin's paul atreides works

¡! ❞ inspired me to write a 4k word essay about him

claireunoia's [8:00] mike wheeler

¡! ❞ mike wheeler, literally altered my brain chemistry

- ,,

mcu

: ̗̀➛ inklore's spectral tease

¡! ❞ druig, kept me afloat for months

: ̗̀➛ greenorangevioletgrass' only joy, only anguish

¡! ❞ druig, also kept me afloat for months

: ̗̀➛ silkscream's peter parker works

¡! ❞ just read them. all of them

- ,,

outer banks

: ̗̀➛ gxtitobxby's dark rafe blurb

¡! ❞ rafe cameron, changed my life, tw for dark!rafe and manipulation

: ̗̀➛ idcntlikedarkness's jj works ꕥ

¡! ❞ fueled my budding jj addiction, made me a jj lover, so srs

: ̗̀➛ folkloreslovechild's sweet nothing ꕥ

¡! ❞ soft!rafe cameron !!!, so so cute, literally my ideal scenario

: ̗̀➛ onsunnyside's innocent reader and jj

¡! ❞ jj maybank, drew inspiration from for 'teaching ethan how to kiss', love love love

: ̗̀➛ storiesbound's halley's comet

¡! ❞ rafe cameron, so super soft rafe, changed my life

: ̗̀➛ bettysupremacy's summer girl

¡! ❞ soft!rafe cameron prevails, channeling this when i go to isle of palms,

: ̗̀➛ forevermoreharrington's i looked at you like the stars that shine

¡! ❞ rafe cameron, love rafe begging for forgiveness,

- ,,

stranger things

: ̗̀➛ wtfsteveharrington's tequila & strawberry lip gloss + others

¡! ❞ robin buckley, steve harrington, smut with many feelings

: ̗̀➛ luveline's zombie apocalypse works ꕥ

¡! ❞ steve harrington, alternate universe, so cute

- ,,

scream

: ̗̀➛ slxsherr's feeling like i never should

¡! ❞ charlie walker, kirby reed, opened my eyes to charlie

: ̗̀➛ castieltrash's the devil has come home

¡! ❞ charlie walker, needy virg charlie>

: ̗̀➛ msgorrilagripcoohie's generous, tunnel vision, after hours

¡! ❞ chad meeks-martin, so chad the characterization is so good

blogs

: ̗̀➛ @fleurfairie

: ̗̀➛ @arachine

: ̗̀➛ @idcntlikedarkness

: ̗̀➛ @forevermoreharrington

: ̗̀➛ @neo-novaa

#𓆩♡𓆪 𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 𝟱𝗸/𝟲𝗸 #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic recs #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic recs #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fic recs #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fic recs

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magecrafts · 2 years

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NEW MOOD.

RATED T FOR TEEN & UP AUDIENCES.

PART ONE OF TWO.

a/n: inspired by this post and the song new mood by lpx. i haven't written anything in twenty years and so my apologies if this is Terrible. don't worry about the mcu timeline. i'm fucking with it. and i'm also definitely not editing this bc it's two am.

kate bishop x fem!reader: after the battle of new york you made it your life's mission to kill a god. somewhere along the way you meet kate bishop and get a little sidetracked.

warnings: angst, minor suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, emotional manipulation.

i am not currently fulfilling requests, but any made will be filed away for future consideration.

WHY CAN’T I PUT THE PAST ON ICE?

You’re stuck in your head.

You can’t get past the bit of your history where your family died, where you stood and watched, confused and horrified and transfixed, as the Chitauri blew a hole through your life.

The Battle of New York took everything from you — your mother, father, brother, sister, grandmother. Hell, it even took your dog. For that you cannot (will not) forgive the one who brought them here, the god who opened the door and stood aside while the Chitauri wreaked havoc on the world you held so dear.

For fun.

Loki, the Trickster God, God of Mischief and all its cohorts, will die at your hands one day. You’ll have it no other way. Either you will claim his life as your own or will die trying, and you do not consider dying a consequence.

To die is only to fail at the greatest task you have ever been given, and to fail trying would be as honorable a failure as any.

You vow to spend the rest of your life hunting the second in line to the Asgardian throne. You create trackers, build beacons, fake magical events — all to draw out the god who stole your life from you.

None of it works.

It’s by chance that you find another Asgardian on Earth. A college professor in Canada, doctor of history, so embedded in the academic world that it takes you a year and a half to admit to her heritage.

Jodunn, she calls herself.

“It was cold the night I was born,” she tells you. “Cold and fraught with storms of hail that scared my father so deeply he gave me a name to rival the ice.”

“He named you after the realm of the Frost Giants.”

“It seems that way,” she says, a knowing smile inching across her lips.

Jodunn leads you to Erik Selvig.

Erik Selvig cannot lead you to Thor.

“The man’s been off-world for a while,” he tells you. “No cell reception up in Asgard, I suppose. He’ll be back, I don’t doubt it, but I couldn’t tell you when.”

Selvig can, however, lead you to the Avengers who, at first, want nothing to do with you.

Until you meet Kate Bishop and momentarily forget your grand plan to kill a god.

“I’m Kate,” she says, offering a calloused hand and a crooked grin. “Hawkeye.”

You tell her your name and she tells you it suits you and you do your very best not to look smitten as she crinkles her nose and bids you to come along.

Kate takes you to dinner because she feels bad about Stark and Rogers telling you they can’t help.

“And because you’re, like, insanely pretty and I’d totally never forgive myself if I didn’t take this chance,” she admits when you ask her what exactly the two of you are doing.

“So this is a date.”

“Hell yeah, this is a date,” she says, “but only if you’re okay with that.”

You’re definitely okay with it.

It takes you two and a half weeks to tell her you’ve never actually dated anyone before. Too busy trying to figure out how to track down a god, how to subdue a god, and how to figure out what you’re supposed to do with your life once you actually kill a god.

“So…when I kissed you for the first time last week, was that—?”

“No,” you tell her, chuckling at the emotions that pass over her face (surprise, worry, curiosity) in the moments before you speak. “Unfortunately, Kate Bishop, you were not my first kiss.”

“No, no, right,” she says quickly, shaking her head, and you start to worry the moment she crosses her arms and tucks her hands beneath her elbows. Her body language is always loud and you’ve learned it’s almost never a good sign any time it goes quiet. “Of course not, that would be…stupid.”

Kate excuses herself and it takes you two hours to find her on a bench in Central Park with Lucky asleep on her feet. She’s watching a tee-ball game from afar, squinting in the wind as the little tykes run the bases.

“Their life is so simple,” she says when you sit down beside her. “Just tee-ball games and orange slices and pizza parties. I never thought I’d envy an eight-year-old.”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you tell her because you really don’t and you also don’t know what you’re supposed to say to a woman you’ve barely known three weeks and have just started dating. “Did I do something wrong? You closed up real fast back there.”

She doesn’t answer right away, which is fine, just looks at the leash in her hands and shakes her head and sighs and looks at you and looks away and groans in frustration, which is less fine, but all you can do is sit there and wait.

“You said something,” she tells you after a while, and when she finally looks at you she’s smiling sheepishly, and, “It was the full-naming me thing,” she says. “I had someone — there was someone — who used to do that a lot. Someone who was really important to me, who, if I’m being totally honest, is still important to me, but I also haven’t seen her in a year. She dropped out of my life like it was nothing and it took me a long time to figure out how to fill all the empty space she left behind.”

When she reaches for your hand you let her take it, trying to tamp down the pang of your heart as you work through what you just heard. Thinking about her feeling the need to run at the first sign of emotional distress is hard, thinking about her losing someone important is worse, but her fingers pushing through yours to clasp your hand is what you try to focus on.

“Okay then. Just Kate.”

“That’ll work.”

“All right, hotshot,” you say. “How about we go somewhere warm and talk about the possibility of me breaking into Stark’s archives for Loki intel.”

Kate blinks.

“Okay, fine,” you say. “How about we go somewhere warm and talk about the possibility of me breaking into Stark’s archives over pizza.”

Both she and the dog perk up at that.

SO FUCKING BAD AT CUTTING TIES.

“I’ve been doing nothing in New York for six months,” you say, almost angrily, the grit in your voice only irritating you further. It doesn’t feel good to snap and it feels worse to see the hurt in Kate’s eyes when you do. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’ve been sleeping in my bed and embedding yourself in my life for six months,” she says. “Taking me on dates and getting my dog to love you. Shit. Even Jack likes you and he’s an idiot, but he’s the closest thing left to family I have in this city.”

It really wasn’t what you meant.

You don’t regret any of the time you’ve spent with Kate. You don’t regret your mutual love for Lucky, nor do you regret giving Jack the Asgardian shortsword Jodunn gave you to use as a bargaining chip to get closer to Loki.

Okay, that’s a lie, you regret giving the sword up a little bit because it might’ve actually gotten you somewhere and you only gave it to him because you hadn’t made any god-killing progress in months and you were frustrated and not thinking straight and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Standing stupidly at the counter in one of Kate’s big tees and a pair of her purple sweats at four in the morning, hanging your head over the sink as you wrack your brain for anything to say that won’t make this worse, only makes things worse.

“If all of that isn’t nothing,” she says, “then I want to know what you meant. Explain it to me.”

“I” — you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut, hands balling into fists — “need a drink.”

“It’s four in the morning.”

“It’s four in the morning and I need a drink. Is that going to be a problem?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What, Kate?” It comes out tired, angry, and when you round on her the exasperation is plain as day on your face. The bags under your eyes don’t help. “What am I doing again?”

The worst is how fast she closes in on herself: hugs her knees to her chest, keeps turning away, pulls her sleeves down over her hands until the only thing left for you to look at is the insecurity in her eyes.

“Reminding me of her,” she says quietly. “She was always angry before she left, like she resented me for the stability and lack of life-threatening adventure.”

“You’re literally a superhero, Kate. Isn’t life-threatening adventure your entire job?”

“Okay. Sure.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re shutting down.”

“Well — well, you’re being a big asshole.”

She’s right. You are.

“Yeah,” you say, “I know.” You don’t say the part about putting your only goal in life on hold to shack up with her and a golden retriever in New York City.

“I’m a second-string Avenger, okay?” Kate huffs, rests her chin on her knee, and looks at you with a sad smile. “I don’t get to do anything cool, I just stay here in this stupid apartment and wait for them to tell me they need me.”

“Kate.”

“And they never need me.”

Fuck it, you think, becuase you really don’t know what else to think, or say, so, “Fuck it,” you say, “and fuck the Avengers, too, while we’re at it. Come with me.”

“I’m the only person you know in the city and you definitely do not have anywhere else to go. And I’m mad at you.”

“Kate.”

“Sorry.”

"Don't be."

You drop to the floor before her and pull her arms from around her legs, coaxing her to sit up on the edge of the couch, which she does, if reluctantly.

“Look,” you tell her, sliding your hands into hers and pulling her forward until she’s looming right over you and trying not to let you back in, “I’m not a good girlfriend, I know that, even though I don’t actually know if that’s what I am to you, but listen — come with me. If Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist and the Ice Boy won’t put your talents to good use, let me do that. I could use an Avenger in my corner, and you’re the best there is.”

“I’m barely an Avenger,” she says, and you hate how it hurts to see how much she believes that.

It’s because they don’t know what she’s truly worth, you think, how much she can do, and how ready for the hero life she actually is. Kate can do it. She’s ready, whether they believe that or not, but hell if you’re going to keep her on the bench and waste everything she has to offer. You’re not like them — not cautious, not worried, not trying to overplan. You know she can do everything (okay, maybe not everything) that the rest of the Avengers can do. You just need to give her the opportunity to prove that. And you need to give yourself an opportunity to make up for making her feel like you’ve never wanted to make her feel. Ever.

So, “Come with me,” you say again. “Prove to them that you’re worth more in the field than you are cooped up here.”

First she looks anxious, and then her anxiety gives way to anger, anger to acceptance, and then she nods so hesitantly that you’re not actually sure it’s a nod at all until she says, “Okay. Okay, I’ll come.”

Your chest swells with relief and you straighten up on your knees so you can reach her lips and melt into her.

“But,” she says against your mouth, giving a little hiss when you tug at her bottom lip. It takes her a second to get you off of her, at which point she’s rosy-cheeked and grinning bashfully, and, “But if one of the big ones comes after me, I’m telling them you abducted me from my apartment and forced me to be your sidekick.”

“Sidekick? You?” You overdo the shock, dropping your jaw and slapping a hand over your heart, just to see her smile again. You’d do a lot of things for that smile. “You’re no sidekick, Kate. You’re a hero, and I really need one of those.”

You’ve never been good at letting things go, and you’ve never started anything you don’t intend to finish, so you’ve never let yourself start something with anyone before. Mostly because it’s never been worth it and also because you’ve never not been terrified of what would happen if someone was, in fact, actually worth it.

Kate Bishop is not a mistake, but she was an accident, and you’ll be damned if you leave her in the wreckage.

And, shit, she might actually be worth it.

I WISH THAT I COULD JUST MOVE FORWARD.

“You were there, Kate. You know what it was like to watch those things tear through the city like it was nothing.”

Kate sighs. “I know,” she says quietly, and reaches for you in the dark, finding your damp cheek and swiping at the tears with her thumb. “My dad died that day.”

“Mine, too,” you tell her for the first time. It’s strange, you think, talking about it like this, in the middle of the night with the lights off, in a shitty hotel room on the outskirts of Quebec. “Right along with the rest of my family.” You don’t have a good reason for waiting so long to tell her why exactly you’re on this mission other than you don’t like talking about your family because it still stings and you’re still no closer to Loki.

Sometimes you dream of your family in the night and wake up believing it was real and spend the rest of your day grounding yourself in the reality that they are gone and are never coming back. It’s worse when you daydream of them, when you’re conscious and know they’re gone but still find it in yourself to wish for them. Even though you know better. You can’t win either way.

At least you can’t see Kate’s face right now. You’d like to think she’s not looking at you with pity, but you’ve never trusted anyone not to pity you before.

“The Battle of New York was what made me want to be a hero,” she says. “After that day there was no way in hell I could sit on the sidelines the next time something else happened.”

She’s told you this before. At least twice. About the wall of her house, blown open, about the Chitauri headed straight for her and the arrow that stopped them. And about Clint, the second hero she ever had. Right after her dad.

“We were kids,” she says, closer now, forehead bumping against your cheek, her lips catching your jaw. “Just kids, but that day still defines so many of us. That day is the reason I picked up a bow, and it’s the reason you—”

“Are on a suicide mission to kill a god? Yeah. I know.”

Kate laughs, tucking into your side, and something changes, and it’s not something you can identify. Not yet.

It isn’t until the next day that you manage to give it an honest thought.

A suicide mission, you called it. A path to certain death.

And death has always been a possibility, you’ve always known that. Hell, sometimes you’ve prayed for it. Only when to die would be easier than the alternative, especially when the alternative is only getting farther and farther away.

You don’t know how to find a god. And, shit, even if you did? You definitely do not know how to kill one. Your life’s mission, goal, dream — whatever — is an impossible possibility. It’s the pipe dream of an angry child who convinced herself that she could undo the wrong that was done to her family.

Maybe you’ve always known that, that this whole thing is impossible. Maybe you just didn’t care. Not about wasting your life, or about dying, or about any of it. But if this is a suicide mission, you are no longer the only one on it. What happens to Kate will be on your head. Her blood on your hands.

God forbid.

God fucking forbid.

Maybe it’s because you’re running on an hour and a half of sleep, or because your vision is tunneling and you don’t know where to veer off, but you decide then and there that you cannot let that happen. Not to her.

“Deal’s off,” you say into the phone a few minutes later. Kate’s out cold, one arm hanging off the bed and the other stuffed beneath a pillow.

“What a pity.” The Asgardian’s voice hums in your ear. “I understand you and the archer have become quite attached to one another, so I suppose I understand your hesitance.”

“I’m not hesitating,” you say, “I just won’t do it. I won’t.”

“Very well.” Quiet. Then: “If you won’t bring me an Avenger, I’m afraid I must ask you to return my sword.”

Shit.

“I don’t have it.”

“I know. Retrieve it for me, sweetling, though I advise you not to cross the border if you wish to see tomorrow.”

“Shit. I mean — fuck — okay. Fine, I’ll get you the sword.”

“If the man with the mustache, Jack Duquesne, is reluctant to give it up, bring me him as well. If that makes it easier.”

The line goes dead.

You look at Kate, sprawled out across the hotel bed, peaceful as you’ve ever seen her, and in that moment you decide maybe you deserve to die — suicide mission or not — becuase who else would do something like this if not a monster?

“Hey.” You shake her gently, brushing the hair out of her face to kiss her temple. “Come on, get up. We have to go.”

“Mm—? Oh. Hi.” A yawn. “Mmkay — okay — one minute.” Another yawn. “Are we going to see your professor friend?”

“No. We’re going back to New York.”

That wakes her up.

“What? Why? You said this was a good lead, that she might know where to find Thor.”

“I was wrong.”

Kate sits up, rubs at her eyes, and looks at you like you’re the only one who has the right answers.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” she says simply, through another yawn.

“Yeah,” you tell her, “I know. But we have to go. We can’t be here. You can’t be here. Just — trust me, okay?”

And, “Okay,” she says, reaching for her bow like it’s the only thing she has faith in at the moment, and, “okay. We’re going. Let’s go.”

#kate bishop x reader #kate x reader #kate bishop imagines #hawkeye x reader #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop headcanons #kate headcanons #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #kate #rated: t #fic

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.24

What She’s Done

05/19/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,590

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, Loki being the best bro, pregnancy problems

A/N: I’m sorry this is so late. I’m not going to explain too much as I want the focus to be on the chapter but I’m feeling better. Hope you all enjoy this one and I hope you can forgive me. haha As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my work on any other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The sound of the fanfare outside is muted. The heavy doors of the main room are shut.

Thor sits on his large steel, silver, and wooden throne. Normally, your own throne would have been moved into the room so that you could sit beside him. Today however, he wants you standing.

Loki stands on Thor’s left, his hands moving across his tablet at godly speeds. He’s busy. Always busy. While Thor has the final say, Loki sets everything up for him and comes to him with the choices that must be made.

He’s indispensable and both you and Thor know it. So, when the large doors are thrown open and Thor takes his hand off of your lower waist where he’d been massaging the knots away, as Ambassador Coates walks forward, you glare right at him and his judging distrustful look at the sight of Asgard’s Prince.

The music outside, large horns that sound more like a call to battle, slowly die and are completely cut off when the doors are shut. Just outside you know two Valkyrie are standing guard.

Inside, two more regular guards stand at attention.

“Ambassador Coates, I’m glad you saw fit to accept my invitation,” Thor says casually.

One wouldn’t know that Thor is angry. He sounds so welcoming. The charm he’s exuding is one you’ve never seen him use before but Loki doesn’t seem surprised by it. Instead, Loki’s lips seem to curve upwards a little in the teeniest smirk.

The Ambassador does as he’s expected and once he’s near the foot of the raised wooden floor where Thor’s throne sits, he gives a quick bow meeting first Thor’s singular eye and then your own blank gaze.

Keeping your anger in check is easy. You’re able to wipe your face of all emotion and it’s a skill now that you’re glad you learned in the orphanage you’d grown up in. Never letting anyone know how sad or hurt you are was key to your survival.

“Your Majesties,” the ambassador states, the irritation in his voice loud and clear for all of you to hear.

It looks like Thor’s plan to roll out the red carpet as if the ambassador were visiting royalty got his message across clearly.

“I hope I find you in good health? Are you faring well with the pregnancy?”

You don’t answer him. You simply stare.

“We’re well enough,” Thor begins. “Forgive me in my haste to get to the point, Ambassador Coates but as I hear it from my brother, you have been making it very difficult for Her Majesty the Queen of Asgard to meet with you, despite her warnings that what she had to share was imperative to the safety of Earth and human-kind.”

The ambassador blinks. He doesn’t attempt to speak or react in any other way than to show that he’s processing Thor’s words. All signs of irritation at his welcome gone.

“Would you say that is a fair statement for her having sent, what was it? Four emails and three phone calls?” Thor asks Loki.

“Seven emails and four phone calls,” he corrects.

“Right. Seven and four.”

“Your Majesty…”

“I think you have been under the impression that my marriage to my wife has been one in name only. She’s Queen but not really? Right? She has no power or authority? Is that what you think?”

Ambassador Coates swallows hard, sweat beading along his temples. He’s not a stout man. In fact, most women would think him good looking. Nothing to Thor or Loki, but for a human he’s handsome. His sweating in this climate makes no sense unless he’s suddenly stressed.

Maybe you shouldn’t feel bad but you do just a bit. You can’t imagine what he must feel being scrutinized by Thor, yourself, and Loki. Clearly he did something wrong and now he knows it.

“Your Majesties, I-I meant no offense. Unfortunately this is a busy time for myself and my colleagues and-”

“We have no time for your excuses,” Thor sits up straighter and draws his legs a little closer together before he licks his lips and holds his hand out towards you.

Taking it, you watch him get up and then he helps you sit before checking on you, “Better, cherub?”

You nod, looking up at him as he caresses the side of your head.

“The only reason you hold the job that you currently do is because my people and I chose to settle on Earth. You might say you owe it to us. Perhaps you’d still have been employed should we not have come here but from what I understand, your salary is considerably more than what it would have been were you in some other position.

“You are married and have children, too. Don’t you?” Thor asks.

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”

“So, it’s important to keep your job. Isn’t it?”

He says nothing, this time simply looking down at Thor’s feet.

“My wife is not just Queen in name but she has been exemplary in her devotion of ruling the people of Asgard at my side with honor and grace. The people love her. I’m not sure what made you think you could slight an Asgardian Queen but let me be clear. If our people should find out that there was such disrespect, believe me when I tell you that the loss of your job would be the last thing you’d have to worry about.”

“And just to be clear,” Loki cuts in as Thor’s taking a breath. “My brother is not threatening you. This is a statement of fact. We Asgardians are fiercely loyal and easily offended.”

You like that Ambassador Coates isn’t glaring at Loki anymore. The fear in his eyes is worrying, but you also know that your husband and brother would do nothing to actually hurt this idiot. They’re just making sure he knows where he stands.

Thor crosses his large arms across his wide chest. Though you don’t think he means it to be intimidating, you can see from the ambassador’s gulp that Thor’s minor flex has great impact.

Gods, he’s huge.

“As it just so happens, aside from being a Queen without fault to this kingdom, the Queen of Asgard has seen fit to continue to perform in her duties as the bridge between our two peoples. She refuses to let us make decisions for the human race and was attempting to contact you to warn you of impending dangers. And you, what was the phrase, love?”

“Blew me off.”

“That’s right, you blew her off. And yet we welcome you with respect and grace.”

“Your Majesties,” the ambassador begins, but Thor holds up his hand and he stops.

“Let this be a lesson in humility for you. I love Earth and for that reason alone, in addition to the fact that this is my wife’s home and now mine, we will forgive this lapse of judgement on your part,” you’ve never heard Thor sound more like a King than in this moment.

It’s also one of those moments where you really want to drag him back to the room and get him naked. He’s never been this attractive.

The ambassador bows his head, taking his punishment with dignity.

“Forgive me, your Majesties,” he begins to say something, but then stops himself.

“Speak your mind, Ambassador Coates,” Loki urges, seeing something you and Thor don’t.

“I merely wish to apologize for my lack of forethought. I was not the only one dismissing Her Majesty the Queen of Asgard but will be sure to rectify the behavior with my colleagues when I return.”

Loki smiles, turning his gentle gaze on you as he realizes that you were right. It wasn’t misogyny. Not on Ambassador Coates’s part. That might not be the case for everyone though.

“Perhaps I should schedule meetings with your colleagues so that we might have a quick talk about the expectations we have for our relationship going forward?”

Loki’s threat is veiled heavily, but Ambassador Coates still picks up on it and his face goes a little pale.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Your Highness. I will pass along the sentiments, if you will let me.”

There’s a burning satisfaction in your chest. Something about watching Ambassador Coates finally show not just you but Loki the respect he deserves makes you so happy.

“My Queen?” Loki prompts you, looking to you to wait for your reply.

“I think we can give him a chance to express our disappointment for us. He is our ambassador. Isn’t that right Ambassador Coates?”

Coates looks relieved, pressing his hand to his chest as he bows his head to you again.

It’s a strange sensation to see the gratitude on his face and his posture relaxes as a result. You literally just did that. You gave him some forgiveness and it really does make all the difference.

“I will support you and the Asgardian throne with more fervor from here on out, Your Majesty.”

“Cool,” you shrug, reaching to place your hand on the back of Thor’s neck, absolutely beaming at him.

He chuckles and puts his hand back on your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze and shake.

“Are you happy, my cherub?”

You nod, unable to contain the smile that stretches across your lips and you lean into him.

“Good. My job here is done then. Now, I have some things to do,” Thor rises and moves around until he’s facing you and pulls you up into a chaste but loving kiss.

With a caress to your belly, he looks at Loki and nods.

“I’ll leave the rest to you and my Queen, brother.”

“Sif will meet you by the docks,” Loki nods.

“Wonderful. I’ll see you later, love. If you need me, just tell Loki and I will come running.”

“‘Kay,” you smile.

Thor turns back to your guest and moves towards him, clapping his shoulder as he passes, “Do better, Ambassador Coates. Do better.”

All three of you watch Thor strut for the large front doors. The guard opens it for him and when he’s out of sight, the doors shutting behind him, you move to take your seat on the throne. Loki scoots a little closer to your side but stands with his tablet ready.

“Now, I think we should get down to the reason I wanted to meet with you,” you start and Ambassador Coates stands a little straighter. “But...I don’t know about you but this whole towering over you sitting on a throne thing is not really my style and feels a little forced. Let’s go to my sitting room.”

Loki smirks as Ambassador Coates relaxes a little more and even smiles, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

As the three of you walk up the steps to the right of the throne room to climb up to the small sitting room that had been set aside for you and your private entertaining, you steal a few glances at Ambassador Coates.

He still looks a little rattled and you stroke your stomach, the long silk dress you’re wearing, ruffled skirt and loose waist giving it a soft flowing quality is still noticeable and Ambassador Coates steals a few glances.

“Didn’t think I was really pregnant?”

He blanches, “What? N-No, Your Majesty! I had no reason to doubt you.”

“It’s okay. A lot of people didn’t believe it until I came back from my little vacation. I just wanted to make sure that it would take. We’re all so dependent on this little one and a lot is riding on my having Thor’s heir quickly.”

“No one who has seen you rule since your marriage would doubt your commitment to this union, Y/N,” Loki assures you gently.

He’s your number one supporter and you’re so damn grateful for him.

All three of you fall into silence but with your heavy belly and your slow walk, it stretches on.

“I’m sorry about Thor’s enthusiasm to put you in your place,” you give Coates a small apologetic smile but he quickly shakes his head. “He can be a little passionate.”

“No, Your Majesty, the mistake was mine. I should have paid you the respect you deserved. It’s-You work in an environment for too long and you begin to adopt certain behaviors that you should know aren’t acceptable but when everyone is doing it and-I was wrong. I can’t blame Thor for setting me straight.”

“Thank you, for understanding,” you shrug.

“Thank you for not holding it against me and letting me do better.”

It takes only another few minutes to reach the sitting room and you make a beeline for the small loveseat before dropping into it and leaning back against the soft plush cushions.

“Whew, I probably should have done my research on how pregnancy would affect all aspects of my life before agreeing to it,” a joke and Coates gets it because he looks respectfully amused.

Loki scoffs, “With Thor, I doubt you’d have had much choice in the matter. He is also believed to be a God of fertility, you know?”

“Loki!”

The small shock on your face really makes Coates laugh this time and your neck, ears, and cheeks burn.

Not wanting to drag this meeting out for a long time you clear your throat and Loki sits down on the armchair beside you opposite Coates’s own seat.

“I should really be more formal, but I’m not kidding when I tell you that this pregnancy is taking a toll on me.”

“Think nothing of it, Your Majesty,” Coates assures you.

“I’m not sure what you’ll be able to do with this information and maybe it’ll be best if, with your help, you can get a meeting in front of both the United Nations and NATO scheduled for me to speak to them directly.

“Thor and Loki would be there with me, of course, but it was my idea to even bring this to your attention.”

“I will be of any assistance that I can be,” Coates nods, face serious and attentive.

“We wanted to wait until we had more concrete information to give Earth’s leaders but our Queen is adamant that an early warning is better than detailed information,” Loki explains.

“Is the Earth in danger?” Coates asks, worried now.

“Sort of,” you nod. “Truth is, we don’t know. What we do know is that there’s an energy signature that we’ve been monitoring for months. Almost my entire first year of marriage. What we do know is that the energy signal was strong enough to bring Doctor Foster here to look for an explanation and my brother-in-law has kept his eye on it too. It’s familiar to him and not unthreatening so we’ve been preparing watch stations across the globe. We have one in North and South America, Australia, almost every continent so that we won’t miss any kind of danger that comes falling from the sky.

“We don’t want a repeat of New York,” you look at Loki and Coates looks at him too but neither of you have any kind of judgement in your expressions.

Maybe a little for Coates, but he quickly turns his gaze back on you.

“I wanted to give the people of Earth time to prepare for that kind of attack. The Avengers are already on the case and have been helping build up a defense but they can only do so much. Their focus is going to be on the bigger fight if it comes to that. I want to give us a fighting chance on the ground where regular people are often the ones to get hurt and suffer from big threats like this.

“I don’t want the casualties to look like they have in the past when something or someone threatens us. So, I just want to give world leaders a briefing on what we’ve found, what we’ve built in defense, and give them the resources to keep track of what we’re keeping track of.

“We’re at a unique advantage with not only Asgard’s knowledge, technology, and resources. We’re still a growing nation and what we do have is lots of strength. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and while the Valkyrie have to stay here to protect my family, we have a sizable guard that can be split into a few regiments to send out to the places that will need it most and still have enough forces to protect New Asgard.”

Coates is thinking hard, then his hand dives into his pocket and he pulls out his phone, “I’ll start making calls and can probably have something set up the day after tomorrow. If the threat is serious enough to make you worry about us humans this much, I think the sooner the better.”

“It is serious enough,” Loki assures him. “Even if it turns into nothing, we would all rather have done everything we could to minimize damage to both the humans of Earth and New Asgard.”

“Then I’ll get started. Is there any kind of data that I should see in order to convince my bosses?”

You look to Loki and reach out, placing your hand on his arm, “Loki, take Ambassador Coates down to the dungeon and let him get a look at anything we’ve gathered in the monitoring station. You’ll forgive me for not coming with you, Ambassador Coates? I really can’t stand walking around much longer today.”

“Of course, please do not mind me,” he assures you, giving you a small bow.

“Shall I have your lunch brought in here?” Loki asks.

“Please?”

He nods and with a gesture at Ambassador Coates, leads the way to the door.

“When you’ve made any significant progress, I will be in here. Can you come and let me know?”

Coates nods, the phone now pressed to his ear, “As soon as I know something, Your Majesty.”

They leave you in an appropriate rush and you relax against the cushions of your sofa feeling like a small burden’s been lifting off your shoulders.

You’ve done your part now. You’ve warned your Ambassador, now it’s his job to convince his higher-ups and hopefully they listen.

Estrid does eventually come with your lunch and you eat slowly, thinking through your options for Coates and the rest of the governments of the world. Splitting the Asgardian army up isn’t ideal, but they pack a punch. Even just a handful of soldiers in a city would make a difference.

You finish eating and you finish your tea. You get up to walk a little around the sitting room but as the afternoon wears on, you start to feel suffocated inside and Estrid happily goes with you down to your gardens.

Most of your plants have been well taken care of.

“His Majesty made sure that we kept all of your plants healthy for you,” Estrid informs you, moving to walk a few steps behind you as you walk around with a small watering can.

His consideration brings a smile to your lips.

Thor really can be so sweet. So loving. You hate that some of the time from your first year was stolen by what happened with Jane, but it couldn’t be helped. He had to discover what it would mean to lose you and you had to learn that depending on yourself is still just as important married as it was when you had no one.

Maybe it’s even more important now? You can get lost in your relationship with Thor and while that’s super tempting, to have your world start and end with Thor and your married life together, you are still your own person.

You have goals for your career and shared dreams with him too. You’ve got your hobbies and Thor has his. Both of you needed the distance.

Despite that, even though you know that the space was good for both of you, even if it hurt like hell to get it the way you two did, you’re actually really happy to be back home.

As you reach over to water one of your taller butterfly bushes, you gasp and pull your arm back against your body as a small sharp pain rocks your senses and blinds your vision for a split second.

“Your Majesty?” Estrid hurries forward.

“I’m fine, Estrid,” you assure her, waiting another second to see if the pain will come back.

Reaching down you rub the spot on your tummy where you’d felt it and wonder if maybe the baby is just kicking especially hard today.

“Shall I fetch the doctors?”

“No, really. I’m fine, Estrid.”

You move to the next plant and water a few more as you head towards the small greenhouse with the Asgardian plants you’re still trying to perfect the care for but as you reach for the door, you double over as a shooting pain stretches across the same side as before then moves down onto the base of your belly.

The watering can falls from your hand as you reach out to brace yourself against the door and hits the floor with a clunk as the water goes all over your flats, soaking your feet.

“Your Majesty!”

Estrid races to you, hands placed on your back and arm to support you as she looks to steal a glance at your face.

With your eyes shut tight, you groan and whimper as the pain just gets sharper.

“Estrid…” it takes a moment to catch your breath. “Get the doctors.”

“Guard!” Estrid calls, forcing you to let go of the door so that she can lead you to a bench. “Guard, send for the doctor!”

“Thor,” you whimper, sitting slowly and gasping as the pain intensifies. “Get Thor.”

“I’ll send for him, my Queen,” Estrid assures you and now that you’re seated, she leaves you to run and hurry the guard.

“What’s wrong?”

“Loki?” you call breathlessly, searching for his face for the comfort you know it’ll give you to have him close.

“Here,” he calls out for you and hurries around the corner. “I’m here. What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

He hovers over you, leaning over, his hands carefully pressed to your cheek and the other on your stomach.

“It hurts,” you sob without tears, “Loki…”

“It’s alright,” he promises. “You and my nephew will be fine. Come on, put your arm around my neck.”

His certainty does help and you get your arm around him. With ease he squats down and lifts you into his arms and with you moves back into the palace.

~~~~~~~~~~

It feels like a long time when you open your eyes again. You’re dizzy a little and weak. Your body feels heavy and it’s a struggle to sit up.

Looking around, you realize you’re in your bedroom alone. The sky outside is dark and the room is dim with only the fireplace lit to cast a warm orange glow around the dark room.

“Loki?” you try, remembering him carrying you when he found you in the garden.

No movement.

“Thor? Estrid?” You’d sent her to get the doctors and to get Thor. Had the doctors come?

Thor’s favorite armchair is placed by your bed, angled towards you so he must have been in here sitting by you waiting for you to wake up.

With a heavy sigh, you realize that he must have been out of his mind with worry when he heard what happened. Is the baby okay?

You put your hands on your tummy and wait for movement. He does wiggle around a little. Normal for you and him and that makes you feel better about the pain that had come out of nowhere.

It takes you too long to get up and out of bed. You’re in your nightgown, a long simple piece with modern touches but it’s also very similar to some of the long flowing white ones you remember seeing in history books.

Taking extra time to stretch up onto your feet just in case the pain comes back, you breathe a sigh of relief when you take your first step and find that you’re okay.

“Oh, baby,” you reach down and rub the sides of your bump. “You scared me, rascal.”

You know that you should probably stay still. Staying in bed is probably what your Doctors suggested but the empty chair has you worried about Thor and what state he might be in.

So instead of staying where you should, you open your bedroom door and step out into the hallway.

The spots to either side where there’s usually a guard are empty.

You look up towards the other end of the hall and see that the two soldiers have moved to stand at the center of the hall, shoulders tense and obviously distracted. Further down, at what you think they must be staring at is a grouping of palace staff. People you recognize. Estrid stands among them, frowning at the small crack in the door through which pours a line of bright white light from the sitting room you share with Thor.

Did something happen?

As you pass the two guards the jump and hurry back to the sides of your bedroom door where they belong. Their flurry of movement must have drawn the attention of the others standing by the door. They also seem to jump, look shamed and worried, before they move away from the door and head in all different directions to get back to work.

One of the maids that passes you curtsies before she scurries off stealing a look of regret at you.

Estrid stands rigid, hands clasped to her front before she steps back a bit to give you room.

“What is it, Estrid?”

She doesn’t say anything. She looks upset, her lips fixed into a severe line, eyes full of anger as she shakes her head.

“Where’s Loki? Thor?” you check, stopping by her and she only looks at the door.

You can hear muted voices from inside and your heart begins to pound.

Is it the doctors? Are Thor and Loki getting bad news? The baby was just moving though!

Your baby has to be okay. Healthy even. Nothing was wrong before you came back home.

Clinging to your bump, you move towards the crack in the door and with the breath leaving your lungs in fear of what you’ll overhear you just go ahead and push the door open because eavesdropping hasn’t served you well in the past.

If something needs to be said, you want to hear it without hiding.

Of course, what you aren’t expecting to find is Loki facing you by the long sofa where Thor usually lounges, resting his head on your lap. Behind Loki, what must have given him that frustrated look on his face is Thor, Jane clinging to his arm as she finishes speaking the thought you just interrupted as they all turn to look at you.

“-can’t help it. I love you. I-”

The absolute fury that engulfs you is indescribable.

For one year-long second, you inhale and a million thoughts cross your mind. The one you grasp onto, in favor of the ones involving murder and hurt and violence, is the one of your baby.

This kind of anger is bad for him. You can’t let it consume you. Not when you need to stay good for him.

Loki looks down at his feet, disappointment and shame overcoming his pale, handsome features.

Thor quickly jerks his hand out of Jane’s grip and moves towards you but stops when you speak only a few feet away.

“Jane?”

She swallows hard, then frowns, “I only came to warn Thor that the readings have gotten stronger. I-”

“I don’t care why you’re here. I only care that you are here. You aren’t welcome in my house, near my husband, or on any piece of land in this Kingdom,” you take a step towards them and stop as you stroke your belly to remind you to keep calm. “I want you gone. Out of my home, away from my people, and if you trespass here again, I’ll have you thrown in jail. You aren’t welcome in New Asgard.”

“You can’t ban me from an entire Kingdom,” she argues, moving forward towards you.

“Try me,” you warn. “Out of respect for what you meant to Thor in the past, I’ve kept your name clean. I haven’t told anyone what you tried to do here, but here you are trying again. Now either you want me to trash you, or you seriously can’t take a hint.

“We don’t want you here.”

“Thor invited me himself, if he didn’t want me here, why would he do that?”

You grind your teeth, again stroking your tummy, “You’re right. I don’t know why my husband would invite you here when I have made it very clear that you aren’t welcome. Whatever the reason, he and I will discuss it together, because we’re married. Husband and wife. Until the day I die, at least, since he’ll outlive me by two thousand years.

“And whatever you two had in the past is gone. So, get out or I’ll have you thrown out.”

She opens her mouth to argue and you take two steps towards her, “I might be pregnant, but I can still do plenty of damage in the minute that it’ll take Thor and Loki to pull me off of you. Please, say something. Please, please I beg you. Give me an excuse. I have a really bad temper and I am dying to express myself. Please.”

Jane turns towards Thor, waiting for some kind of rebuttal from him but he’s got his eyes trained on you and you alone. The shame on his face, the agony of what you finding them all here might mean is not lost on him.

When he doesn’t say anything, Loki clears his throat, “I think it’s time to go, Jane.”

His urging helps and with a look of hurt and disbelief, she tears her eyes off of Thor and stomps out past you.

You watch her go, Estrid scurrying after her to lead her out the back instead of the front where she might be spotted.

“Loki?”

He turns to you, waiting.

“I don’t want anyone to know she was here. Anyone other than the group of palace staff that was standing by the door fucking listening to what was being said in here. Can you get Heimdall and send her home that way?”

“I’m on it,” he assures you and hurries past you, disappearing into the palace.

“I-” Thor begins.

“Don’t!”

He shuts his mouth.

“Not here.”

Turning, you lead the way back to the bedroom and the guard opens the door for you, Thor following closely behind.

As the door shuts you don’t stop until you’re sitting on your bed, hands stroking your belly as you shut your eyes and try to calm yourself.

“I asked you for one thing. One thing, Thor. I asked you not to make a fool of me. Seven people from our staff were listening to you and Jane. Seven! By tomorrow that’ll be twenty and by the weekend the tabloids will have picked up on the story.”

“I’m sorry,” he starts but you growl in frustration.

“I stood in front of our people and told them that Jane Foster was not welcome in our Kingdom and you walked her right in! I-I can’t do this. I can’t do this right now.”

You get up and point at the large doors.

“I need you to get out. I need space and I don’t care why you let her in. I don’t care why you’d make me look like such a stupid fucking joke I only know that you did and I’m done. I need you out. Don’t come looking for me. When I’m ready, if I’m ever ready to talk to you again, I’ll find you. Until then, leave me alone.”

“Cherub-”

“NO! You don’t get to do this shit, Thor-You don’t get to undermine me and bring that woman back into our lives and still get to explain yourself after she lied to you about being pregnant, and making a mockery of our marriage. You don’t get a say. You get out of my room, you keep away from me, you wait until I’m ready to hear you. Until I’m not angry anymore. Until I’m not hurting anymore.

“I don’t understand what it is about this woman that you just-can’t you see what she is? What she’s done? Don’t you understand why she can’t be here? Don’t you get-You know what? Just get out. I don’t care. I don’t care if you get it or not. Get out.”

“Y/N, please, I-”

“GET OUT!”

The silence that follows your outburst is interrupted only by the crackling of the fire. In the dim light, Thor’s face is grave and broken. You can’t feel bad for him though.

As much as you love him, as much as you wish this hadn’t just happened, as much as you hate to see him hurt, you can’t ignore the pain in your own chest, drowning you again in betrayal.

This is why you’d wanted to keep your distance. This agony is why you’d wanted to keep him at arm’s length.

This is why you can only depend on yourself.

Eventually, Thor bows his head and with heavy feet, he leaves your room shutting the door behind him leaving you to sob and throw pillows in anger.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #thor x you #a wife for thor pt24

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Of Kings and Beasts - Fourteen

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Injuries, Violence, Fluff (if you squint)

Word Count: 2K

A/n: Lol disappears for two months them comes back like nothing happened. Also I seem to have forgotten how to write so if this is weird and yucky I am very sorry uwu don’t be mad at me

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! 18+!!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

Your meetings with the raven-haired prince have increased in frequency since that first night, until it is a nightly occurrence, one that the prince finds himself looking forward to, against his better judgment.

After the blond king is fast asleep, you slowly exit his chambers and make your way through the palace.

“Your Majesty, it is with all due respect that I ask you, but what are your intentions with the young prince?” You lift your eyes to Brunnhild then continue on your way to the Gardens.

“It's as you said,” you begin, voice a hushed whisper.

“I have the blood of my mother running through my veins. She did not die for me to sit and allow these men to continue to use me the way that they do. I have more power within me than they could imagine. And I intend to use it, if not to save the kingdoms, then to save myself. To capture the predator you cannot remain the prey.”

She presses her lips together in a thin line and nods, watching as you exit the palace and enter the gardens, the light of the moon illuminating you in an ethereal glow.

“I was wondering if you’d come join me again.” A smile finds its way to your lips.

“Why wouldn't I?” Loki watches you for a long moment, his arms crossed over his chest.

“My brother is enjoying you, is he not?” You grind your teeth together and say nothing, eyes finding the moon.

“You have kept this charade going for so long. Why? Why have you not made the next move in your plan yet?” He purses his lips and takes a few steps towards you, one of his hands finding the curve of your waist.

“There are many delicate pieces that need to be positioned just right before any major moves can be made.” He’s standing directly in front of you, his eyes trained on yours.

“The stars have aligned and the moon is full. My brother is lost in his obsession and the Kings are far too focused on trying to get you back to realize that their own council is plotting against them yet again. The time for movement is now, and I must act fast.” Your brows furrow, one piece of information sticking out like a sore thumb, a question that’s been burning in your mind for several days now.

“How have you managed to turn their own council against them?” He only chuckles, two fingers coming to lift your chin up.

“Nobody fully believes in a monarch. Those thoughts are easy to pick apart and turn into full-blown distrust and betrayal.” Your eyes flutter closed as he leans down, his lips very nearly brushing yours as he tilts your chin up more.

“My next move, darling, involves you. And I must apologize in advance for it.” You slowly open your eyes, your face contorting as a white-hot pain erupts in your abdomen.

Your eyes find his, a million questions in them as he presses the blade into your torso, an amused smile on his face as you draw in a shaky breath.

Your hand finds the hilt of the dagger, knees buckling then giving out, making you fall to the ground in a heap.

He crouches down to eye level, tilting your head up with feather-light fingers again.

“I do hope you’ll forgive me, dearest petal. It’s nothing personal, I assure you, but the only way to ensure things go according to plan. Once my brother hears of your death he’ll wage a war on Acadia without looking at the facts. And then it’s only a matter of time before the Kingdoms become mine.”

He pushes your shoulders, forcing you onto your back then steps over your body and towards the palace, leaving you alone and bleeding in the gardens, the stark white light of the moon illuminating the red dripping from your body.

It pools on the ground, a stain, an impurity.

Just like you.

You swallow hard, shaking the thought from your head.

You’ve been through far too much to give up now.

“H-help!” You call weakly, struggling to your knees, one hand holding your wound while the other grabs onto the edge of the garden fountain.

“Someone!” Your voice is soft, far softer than it should be, and for a moment you’re afraid that this is the end. Your fate is to die alone in the garden of yet another traitorous home, one where you were not welcome.

“Your Majesty?” You look up desperately, reaching out as Brunnhild rushes towards you.

“Your Majesty! What has happened?” You grit your teeth, sucking in a sharp breath as she helps you sit down on the lip of the fountain.

“Prince Loki,” you spit, moving your hand and revealing your wound.

“The prince... did this?” You nod, your brows drawn together in discomfort.

“Someone get the King! Quickly!” She shouts. You shake your head, pressing your hand back against your wound and forcing yourself to your feet.

The fate of the two kingdoms is in your hands. You’re not going to sit around and wait for a man to save you. Not anymore.

“The king will be of no help. I need medical assistance, now.” She looks up at you then nods, supporting most of your weight as you hobble through the palace, avoiding the populated hallways and sticking to the shadows.

She pushes into what must be her chambers and sits you by the fire, pushing your cape off of your shoulders and inspecting the wound.

“I’ll need to call for the doctor,” She whispers, stepping towards the door.

You grab her wrist, blood smearing on her tanned skin.

“No. We haven’t time for that.”

There are rushed noises from just past the door, and you know that the King has called for something rash.

“But your Majesty, the wound needs tending.” You grind your teeth together and look up at her then over to the fire.

“Then tend to it.”

She furrows her brows before nodding.

Her fingers work quickly as she cuts the fabric away from your body then hands it to you.

“You’ll want it. For the pain.” A curt nod is all you give her before shoving the material between your teeth.

She gives you no warning before yanking the dagger free from your body, replacing it with the scalding hot blade of her own, now removed from the fire.

The pain all rolls together into something that nearly pulls you from consciousness, nothing but fire and agony.

But your anger keeps you awake. The fury burns brighter than the flames Loki plans to set to the kingdoms. It fuels you, keeps you strong when she finally pulls the heat from your skin.

She covers the area in an ointment then some gauze, shaking her head at you.

“What do you plan to do?”

You grit your teeth and wipe your hair from your sweaty forehead.

“I plan on stopping the destruction of the Kingdoms. Loki has begun a war. He’s inside King Thor’s head. His magic is powerful, and Thor will not see the truth. Your loyalties lie with your King, and I understand, but I need to ask a few favours before we part ways. It’s only a matter of time before he calls you to march.”

You’re surprised he hasn’t called the Valkyrie yet.

Brunnhild grabs your hand tightly and squeezes, her eyes blazing.

“My loyalties lie with you, Your Majesty. The only person whose mind isn’t clouded by greed or magic. The Valkyrie will follow you into battle. We will fight with you. For you. You have our swords, and anything else you may need.”

Your heart swells and you give her hand a squeeze.

“Thank you. Now, we must prepare. A battle awaits.”

~*~

“Your Majesties! We have urgent news from Asgard!” Natalia exclaims, bursting into the Kings’ office.

The two look up upon her entrance, waiting for her to say whatever it is that is so important.

Wanda and Sam are at her side, the former looking on with anguish in her eyes while the latter has nothing but anger in his.

“What is it?” James demands.

Natalia takes a deep breath and looks between the two kings.

“The Queen is dead. Killed in the garden. They believe it to have been a spy from Acadia. Asgard marches at dawn tomorrow.”

A million different thoughts pass through the Kings’ heads, before finally settling on the very first sentence she spoke.

The Queen is dead.

Their Queen. The woman they chose so specifically. The woman meant to raise their children and rule at their side. The woman who has never known the tenderness that she deserves.

Dead. Because they weren’t more careful of who was in their court. Who they trusted.

“You’re certain of this?” Steve asks, his voice choked and broken. It feels like every beat of his heart is a knife digging into his chest, every breath he takes is filling his lungs with water, or maybe nails.

It’s agony.

And James isn’t any better.

His mind races at all the ways he could’ve prevented this. If he had just been stronger, smarter. If he had waited to marry, or perhaps if he had spent more time searching for his husband.

A thousand different ways to have stopped this, yet the reality is that he didn’t. He didn't stop it. Didn’t prevent it.

Hell, he practically walked you right into it.

Your fate was sealed the moment you set foot in his palace.

And now a war is on the horizon.

“We had riders sent to verify. They’re preparing their attack. We haven’t much time if we wish to meet them. We cannot let them breach the walls of the Kingdom. The village is weak enough as is, we cannot allow a fight to even come near it,” Sam urges, taking a step deeper into the office.

Steve composes himself faster than his husband.

“Alert all able-bodied men. Gather them, arm them. We march as soon as possible.”

The two warriors nod their agreement then turn and exit, leaving Wanda alone with the Kings.

“Your Majesties. I-I’m sorry for your loss. I was hoping I could... pay my respects to the Queen? I know a battle awaits, but she has known little friendship in her life. The least I can do is reach to her now, as should’ve been done when she was still with us.”

They both nod easily at the request.

“What did you have in mind? We do not have much we can spare, and the men will be gathered by nightfall. We’ll have to leave as soon as possible in order to protect the women and children.”

She nods, taking a deep but shaky breath.

“I was hoping to go into the village, release lanterns for her. I-I don’t know if she’d like it, but the day she went out with Thor she really made an impact on the people. I know it would bring comfort, especially with a battle looming so close.”

The Kings look at each other, discussing her request silently, before nodding.

“Yes. But everyone must be back in their house before the sunrise.” She nods eagerly, bows, then scurries out of their office to gather supplies.

Steve slumps back in his seat, trying to fight tears but they stab at his eyes.

“Who would do this? Certainly not one of ours,” he whispers, suffocating his anguish with anger instead.

“When we last saw her, she spoke of Loki, of his magic. He wishes to corrupt the Kingdoms, he’s already done so with Asgard...” James trails off, shaking his head as sorrow burrows into his soul.

Perhaps it’s what he deserves.

After all that he’s done, all the pain he’s inflicted. Not only upon you but upon others as well.

Losing you, his wife, the woman he’s been waiting for for several years... that is true pain.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t avenge you.

And avenge you, he will.

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

It’s very ambiguous

Pairing: Loki x reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You have finally come to age; your soulmate mark draws itself in your skin. You can't figure out who it connects you with, but, oh dear, you can only hope and wish it is to him. But Loki won't make it easy for you to find out. Will you both overcome the pride and fear that would involve your love?

Word count: 4.6 K

Warnings: a bit of angst. (English is not my mother tongue and it’s my first time writing fanfiction in english, so forgive me if there’s any errors, and feel free to correct them!)

Sighing at your reflection, you stared for the Norns know how long to the fresh image that drew itself in the side of your abdomen.

You thanked it was easy to hide; saving you endless mockery from your friends if they saw that. The vivid portrayal of who you loved the most, in the most ambiguous drawing you could’ve ever gotten. How ironic.

What the Heavens would that mean, you asked yourself at least five times until the impatient knocking on the bathroom door pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Hurry up, we’re late”, said Sif. You knew she was already all dressed up for the Ball, and she would kill you, seeing you were still on your robes. You opened the bathroom door slowly, with burrowed frows. You couldn’t hide it, as much as you tried to. “Oh, for God’s sa…” she started complaining, but stopped as soon as she realized you were in a terrible state of mind.

“I got it”, you explained after she made you get out of the bathroom and sat you on the edge of the bed. “I got the mark. Impossible to guess”.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll know who they is when the time is right”, said she, comforting you and eyeing the outfit you’d chosen earlier. “But crytime is over. Guess what time it is now. Yes, you guessed right. The Ball”.

The last thing you wanted to do in that moment was to dance; or to stay in a chair drinking wine the entirety of the night, for that matter. You didn’t need another reminder of your frustrated attempts at making him notice you. And you knew he wasn’t the one (if he were your soulmate, it would’ve already happened years; no, decades ago). But you still couldn’t help but falling in love at every little smirk, every little comment, every little thing he did. Dear, you were lost, completely gone in love.

That’s why you knew you wouldn’t find your soulmate for a long, long time. At least not until your crush for Loki had finally gone away.

“I’d rather stay”, you stated, and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I want to go, and I can’t go alone. Please, at least do it for me”.

“Why would you want to go? Ever since we’re on age of being asked to dance, we have only gotten invitations from… well, anyone except them. And in the Balls we can’t even be their friends”.

“We can be friends, if they talk to us first we can talk back”.

“Yeah, we could, but they don’t talk first. They never do”.

Both of you were completely lost for the princes. But, unlike you, Sif had a chance with Thor. She was graceful, divine, a wonderful woman; a whole Goddess, an amazing warrior. There was no question Thor would sooner or later find love in her friend. But you… why would a prince like Loki lay his eyes on you? Romantically, he never showed a single trace of interest in anyone, much less someone in his friendgroup. You were the closest to him, yet he never said a thing.

He probably knew you drooled over him. He must have noticed how you looked at him in the library when he read to you, how you always defended him from everyone else’s mockery, how you intentionally pretended like you didn’t know any better in spells so that he could help you out. How your heartbeat raced when he fell asleep on your lap. He must have noticed, yet he said nothing.

She finally managed to convince you to go, with the condition that if you weren’t asked to dance at all, or even talk, you’d go back to your manor early.

You got in your best clothes, and undressing the best attitude possible, you both arrived at the palace and entered the ballroom as quick as your feet let you. The ambient was marvelous. Subtle lighting, most of them by candles. The golden details that characterized Asgard so well were everywhere. Both King and Queen were sat in their thrones, waiting patiently for the rest of the royal family to arrive before giving the annual speech and getting the party started.

“Do you think they’re not coming?” asked Sif as you got comfortable in your seats, eyeing the entrances.

“They can’t miss it, they’re sort of the hosts”, you said, “but… well, I don’t know. The other day after training, Thor mentioned something about this year being particularly difficult for them”, you added in such a low whisper that Sif had to pull closer.

“What did he say? He didn’t mention anything to me”, she whispered back. You two looked like you were merely gossiping, if it weren’t for the lack of giggling that would usually follow.

“He said… he said something along the lines of ‘we’re expected so much more than before in these dances, they’re more than just for fun now’, and, Sif, I think he meant…”, but she abruptly interrupted you.

“Courting? Oh, for the Norns, they’re not expected to choose a partner now, so soon, aren’t they?”.

“Soon? Sif, they’re already at each other’s throats for who’s becoming King, and they have been for a while”.

“They’re not exactly competing, anyways. You don’t have to worry about this. It’s not like Loki’s the one winning” said she, earning a subtle kick in the leg. “Auch!”.

“Would you stop being so hard on him?”.

“You know I’m right!”.

“You know it hurts him. If you think so, at least keep it to yourself, Sif”.

You could’ve kept lecturing her if it weren’t for the sarcastic clapping of the Queen upon seeing the arrival of her sons. You read the ‘you’re late!’ on her lips and the apologetic looks on their faces. But nothing of that distracted you from admiring how marvelous Loki could get sometimes. Just when you thought he couldn't look any better, he outdid himself. You let out a sigh and Sif laughed.

“You’re staring”.

“And rightfully so. Look at him”.

But no matter how much you looked at him for the whole evening, you couldn’t get even a gaze from him. He didn’t even eyed you from the distance. You would’ve even gotten actually mad at him if it weren’t for the fact that he wasn’t looking anywhere. He didn’t seem like he was avoiding you; he was actively staring at the floor, with the saddest look on his face. And Thor looked pissed off.

“There’s a story in there and I will ask for as many details as possible once Loki spills the beans to you”, said Sif, elbowing you.

“I don’t think he will. Look, it looks like more than a fight. He looks so upset”.

You could only wish you were brave enough to break the stupid rule of the royals approach first so you could take his hand tightly and comfort him in whatever he was going through. As you always did. As he always let you.

The music played for three hours. Everyone was on their feet, dancing away, drinking away and chatting away, as one should in a Ball dance. Everyone except you and certain dark prince you didn’t even bother staring at anymore. You gave up looking for his attention an hour after the dance properly started, and it did nothing good to your pride to have been trying for that long anyways.

Sif got her chance, of course. Thor took his time, but after long he gave up with whatever quarrel he was having with his brother and approached her decisively. You were past pissed. Disappointed. After another sip of your wine, you couldn’t resist and stole a glance to Loki’s seat. To your surprise, you met his gaze. The God of Mischief was staring at you, and he apparently has been for Gods know how long. He quickly dropped his head and went back to looking at the floor, now with a completely red face.

You soon realized he was even more upset than before, as he watched Thor and Sif dance. And then you understood. Everything fell into place. Of course. Of course he liked Sif. Who wouldn’t. That’s why he fought with Thor. That’s why he was so worked up. You didn’t even need to read his mind to confirm it.

You waited, still holding your eyes on him. You waited for another half an hour, but your patience was already on thin ice and he didn’t look like he would do anything more, anyways. So you did what you should’ve done hours ago. You got up and left.

“No, brother, you can go, I’ll let Mother know I’m staying”, said Loki from his room.

He could hear Thor’s patience shatter in pieces from the other side of the door.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we can’t miss the Ball. Father will kill you”.

“It’s not my problem”.

“I think it is quite your problem, brother”. Loki sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for his mockery. Thor sensed it and lowered his tone of voice, insisting. “Tell me what it is, Loki. I promise I’ll try to help out”.

But he only scoffed and locked the door, to start pacing around the room, feeding his anxiety even more. He covered his arm with his palm and tried his best to make it go away. It’s just an accidental illusion. I’m making it out of nervousness. I need to make it go away, he kept saying under his breath. But it didn’t go away. It wasn’t an illusion.

“Oh, FOR THE NINE REALMS”, he kicked his chair as a sudden burst of anger ate him alive.

“Loki, let me in!”, insisted Thor. “I’m going in”.

“You can’t help me”.

“I might, if you just tell me what is it. You love the dances. Come on”.

“I do love dances, Thor, I’m not particularly fond of the weight this one has on us; not this year” he growled from the floor, knees on his chest. “Not with what I had planned, I can’t do it now” he whispered. Thor pretended like he didn’t listen to that last bit.

Loki had been circling around the idea of asking you to dance for the last few months. It was all he wanted; to caress your hand and gently hold you by the waist, to move at the pace of the music, to feel your heart on his chest, his rising heartbeat with every breath you took. He wanted you, and if that wasn’t possible (and he was sure it wasn’t) he wanted to dance with you all night long.

But now, he would have to court you and marry you if he did. And, of course, it was what he wanted. It was definitely all he wanted. But he knew you wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t risk your beautiful friendship over anything in the world. What if he lost you forever? He could never bring himself to lose you, in any form or way.

“Brother, let me in. Or get out of the room. We’re late”.

“You’re late, Thor. Must I repeat myself? I’m not going”.

“I’m kicking the door”.

Loki sighed, and waited to hear Thor’s intense footsteps get closer and closer to the door to open it just in time and see him land on his face. Thor got up off the floor with blood on his nose.

“It combines with your crimson cape, brother, no need to worry” said Loki mockingly.

But Thor paid little attention to his silvertongue. Instead, his eyes were fixed on his arm. Then, he understood exactly why he was acting so terrified. Loki covered his arm as soon as he realized, mortified, but it was now too late and Thor had already seen it.

“Do you need any other reason to invite them to dance with you?”, he said with a grin of pride.

“It's not them. I’m certain”.

“How are you so certain? It’s such an ambiguous drawing, and you haven’t seen theirs!”.

“They doesn’t even have a soulmate mark yet. They told me the other day”.

“You didn’t have one at that time either, it must have changed. Come on”.

Loki sighed and put on a long sleeved outfit, while letting Thor rant about how much he was sure you’d reciprocate his feelings. And Loki couldn’t say anything against it, because it would only bring ruin to everyone; to spill the obvious secret that haunted him everyday.

The fact that you lusted over Thor.

And it hurted him like anything else, because he knew even though you didn’t say anything. He knew he was the lesser prince. The one that gets looked over. The shadow in his brother’s spotlight. The always-prince, never-King. It hurted like Hell.

But there was nothing he could do about it. And now he had a mark that linked him to the Norns know who, but he only had eyes for you.

Because you were always there. You were the one to defend him against his own insecurities, and everyone else’s accusations. The one to laugh the loudest at his jokes, the one to hold him the tightest when you were in fear, the one to call him first to anything. And you were perfect. But you, for obvious reasons, didn’t think the same of him. You thought the world of him, but not in the way he wished.

And he wouldn’t even get to see you happy from someone else’s love, because his brother didn’t even have eyes for you. The idiot of Thor could not see your brightness, and Loki wondered how could anyone not fall in love with you.

“You need to try, Loki, you’ll never know if you don’t risk a little”.

“A little? To you this is a little? Do you have any idea what would happen to me if I lost them forever? If the person that I love the most leaves me because I just decided to stop hiding my feelings?”, yelled Loki, completely angered.

“Ah, there it is. If I decided to stop hiding my feelings”, repeated Thor, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”.

“You are afraid; so incredibly afraid of letting anyone know you fully. That is your problem, Loki. They’ll accept you no matter what, because they already know you. You think you’re hiding, well, you’re not so good with this little lie of yours”, said finally Thor, tired of biting his tongue about it.

“You know nothing about their feelings”.

“I know enough”.

“Believe me, you don’t. And you don’t get to say a word about my love life, or anything about this situation, for that matter. You don’t get to make light of my situation, as you do with everything regarding me. Now, leave. Me. Alone”.

They continued fighting about it until one of their tutors had enough of their unpunctuality and came to look for them. Both entered the ballroom still highly upset at each other and said nothing about it all night. Frigga knew exactly what they were talking about, and didn’t make too much of a fuss about the delay in their arrival.

Loki tried to not look at you in the entirety of the night; avoided all the eye contact he could with anyone, specially you. He was too afraid you’d choose that exact time to practice your special abilities at mind reading (since you’ve done this at previous dances, when Loki didn’t approach you), and if he didn’t see you, you couldn’t do it. Because if you dared reading his mind you’d only find yourself. And in those little moments he got to glance at you, while you were distracted with something else, he sank in sadness, because all he wanted was to embrace you and dance with you. You looked as fantastic as you always were and more. You looked especially excellent. And it didn’t go unnoticed to him that you looked annoyed. From the eye-sided glances he got to steal from you, he saw you staring at the seat he and his brother were in. You were expectant. You wanted to be taken out to dance. And Loki’s suspicions about your crush on Thor only got reassured when he asked Sif for a dance and you looked the most annoyed you’d ever looked in ages.

You left the dance early. After about ten minutes Loki decided to go after you. Outside of the ballroom you could still be a friend; that was the whole point of swallowing his feelings. He wandered the palace until he heard fireballs collapsing against the huge walls of your typical training spot, but he lingered his entrance to observe you in an incredibly angry state of your magic.

“You’ll set the palace on fire” said a gut-wrenching familiar voice. Of course Thor was there. Of course Thor would get earlier to comfort you in something that he destroyed.

“Then so be it”, you answered with a crack in your voice. Loki didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but he couldn’t help himself but to listen.

“I know why you’re upset. Believe me, it upsets me too”.

“You have no idea what upsets me”, you answered, and Thor chuckled. Loki could sense that Thor was thinking about how similar you and Loki were. You threw another fireball against the wall.

“Let me guess”.

“Enlighten me, your majesty”.

“You didn’t get to dance with the man you like”.

“You know nothing about the man I like”.

“When will you all stop treating me as if I were blind? Come on, why won’t you tell me? I’m your friend. I know you’re burning up in love and you still think you don’t have a chance because… because what? Because he’s the prince of Asgard?” said Thor. You stopped your magic and stared at him with teary eyes.

“Because the prince of Asgard I love, is in love with Sif. And there’s nothing I can do about it” you answered. Loki’s heart broke. Hearing you admit your raw feelings to Thor that way, and Thor not even understanding you were talking about him.

“What makes you think he’s in love with Sif?!” insisted, still clueless.

But Loki didn’t need to hear any more of that. He ran through the halls of the palace until he got to lock himself in his room.

“What makes you think he’s in love with Sif?!”, Thor asked, and you scoffed. You lowered your gaze to the floor, trying to make the tears go unnoticed. They didn’t, and Thor hugged you tightly.

Thor was almost like a brother to you. You grew up together, but it was more than that. You were always for each other. He never had to ask about your love for Loki, he always knew. And you never had to ask about his crush in Sif; it was transparent. So you both supported each other. You didn’t even bother telling him how she felt about him, it was bound to happen. Now, you and Loki, on the other hand…

“He is, you can’t deny it”.

“I’m denying it, I assure you”. You wiped your tears away and touched your mark over your clothes. He smiled. “You got the mark, didn’t you?”.

“Yeah”.

“What is it?”.

“Ugh, it doesn’t matter. Maybe I should just forget him and start looking for my soulmate. If the mark showed up today, then it must be for something. There has to be a reason”. Thor nodded, still smiling. “What are you so happy about, dumbass? My heart’s broken".

“Nothing. You keep on looking. Can I see it?”, said he, patting your back.

“It’s too ambiguous, you won’t guess it”.

“So I expected”.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you know anything?”.

“Nothing whatsoever”.

You got in your fighting position. Loki bent down in his seat, focusing on the next fight. He was sure you’d win; he has been teaching you new moves and you completely mastered them. And your rival didn’t know any better, anyways.

One kick from your opponent; you avoided it and threw a punch. Another kick. Another punch. The rival grabbed your leg, making you lose your balance and almost fall down, but you used that impulse to push him away and get him to the ground. He got up and started using magic. A blue light shone around him and started getting closer to your feet. You closed your eyes and focused intensely; soon, water drops started emerging from the tips of your fingers. They quickly transformed into a stream of water that wrapped your opponent from head to toes, making his electricity magic attack him, instead of you. Loki smiled.

Your rival pushed further his strength and one of the electrified waterjets hit your leg. You fell to the ground with a scream. It hurted, a lot. Loki gasped and Thor had to grab his shoulder to remind him it was just a training fight. For his tranquility, you got up on your feet soon and started using your magic again.

An aura of sparks and wind formed around you while you closed your fists, extremely concentrated. Your opponent waited without attacking, but behind the shield of his armour. Loki saw Thor smile proudly; this was the part he taught you. For your fire side of your powers, Thor was the one to train you thoroughly. Loki sighed, frustrated because you haven’t yet shown what Loki had taught you with such enthusiasm. He still observed you with attention.

“This part is awesome, look, brother”, whispered Thor in his ear, which only made him angrier.

“I’m sure it is. They is awesome. And wait until you see what I taught them”. Thor chuckled.

“No need for jealousy, Loki. They’s all yours”. Loki rolled his eyes and directed his attention to the fight again.

The sparks and wind grew bigger and bigger around you, circling your whole body. Once the sparks became fire, you directed your whole energy to your opponent, sending him against the wall. If it weren’t for the gigant fire-proof shield, he would’ve gotten completely roasted.

You put your guard down, and as you did so, the wind and fire around you dispersed. Loki got to see you again once the magic flew down, and realized you had your clothes slightly lifted up. He tried not to look out of respect, but Thor gasped, and that drew his attention directly to what surprised his brother. And it did not disappoint. Loki’s chest got as tight as it has ever been. His breathing became irregular and unsteady, and his face got completely red. You didn’t notice your shirt had lifted up, so you didn’t realize what was going on. You got closer to your defeated rival and shaked his hand.

“You win. I see you’ve been well trained”, he said.

“I have”, you answered, and directed your gaze to the princes who were watching the fight. You walked closer to them to chatter, as you always did, but Loki got up fast and ran out of the training room. Thor told you to follow him, and Loki heard your footsteps behind him for the entirety of the hall, until you two got to the gardens.

Loki was shaking. He didn’t want you to be there. He didn’t want you to see him that vulnerable. And you knew it, so you didn’t get closer than two meters apart.

“Loki”, you said after a while, behind his back. “What’s wrong?”.

He turned around, face still red. He was usually cold, but at that moment he was burning up inside and out. Maybe he was burning out of love for you. Maybe out of anger, for being so pessimistic and making himself a martyr when his brother was clearly right. Maybe out of rage to himself, for waiting so long to make a move and losing so much time lost in his own head. But you were still standing there, concerned. And he had to say something, because you still didn’t know anything.

“I saw your mark”, he stated. Now you were the one with the red face.

“Oh… I, I don’t, uh…”, you stuttered, and he got closer to you. He grabbed both of your hands and you looked at him in the eyes, clueless. “I try not to give it that much attention”.

“Why?”, he asked. “It’s your soulmate. The person you’ll love the most”.

“I already love someone” you said, in a burst of confidence. Loki swallowed in nervousness. Your hands started to get sweaty. “I… ugh. Sorry. I don’t want to say…”.

“Who? Tell me, I’m your best friend”.

“I don’t want you to be”, you finally said. “It’s you, Loki. It’s always been you. I don’t care about this stupid soulmate mark, because I know I’m in love with you and I always have been”.

Loki stayed silent, which only made your anxiety increase. He finally looked at you in the eyes and formed a subtle smile.

“I thought you loved Thor”.

“What? Why would I…?”.

“I heard you after the Ball; you said the prince you love was in love with Sif”.

“Yeah, you”.

“I’m… what? I’m not… I’m not in love with Sif, darling”.

Your heart stirred, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the pet name he just gave you, or the fact that you got it all wrong. He wasn’t in love with Sif?

“I’m sorry, did we both think…?”.

“We’re idiots, apparently”.

You both laughed. That was it; that cotidianity, that normality that felt, even in the most embarrassing and intense moments, completely fine. Because you were, before anything, friends.

You hugged him. He returned the hug and caressed your neck and back with one hand. You felt his heartbeat rise, and from that position, he whispered in your ear with that beautifully deep and raspy voice; “I saw your mark”.

“I don’t care about it. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, ignore my feelings if necessary. But my heart only beats for you”, you whispered back. He sank his nose on the crook of your neck and felt his mouth form a smile against your skin. You shivered and felt warmth in your stomach.

“I don’t want to ignore your feelings”.

“I love you”, you said once again, regretting it in that instant. You couldn't stop your words from falling out of your mouth. You felt like you sounded desperate.

“I love you too, my dear”.

You, in shock, looked at him in the eyes. He kept smiling, and putting a strand of your hair behind an ear, placed a small kiss on your red cheek.

“I don’t know what to do next. I like being your friend”, you said. “And I don’t think we’re meant to be. I got a mark, and you haven’t, so it’s obvious we won’t end up together anyways. And I want you by my side for all my life; even if it’s just as a friend, you know? I don’t want to lose you”. Loki chuckled at your rant. “What?”.

“What makes you think I didn’t get my mark yet?”.

“Well, I… I don’t know. Did you?”.

“Yes”.

“What does it look like?”.

He smiled.

“It’s very ambiguous”, said he, sarcastically.

“Hard to guess, is it?” you chuckled, realizing what was going on. Loki lifted his sleeve, uncovering an identical soulmate mark to yours.

“Hard to guess, yet so obvious”, he said. He grabbed your waist and neck and both melted in a long, desired kiss. You sank your fingers in his hair, caressing his scalp. “Yours?”

“It’s very ambiguous too, you know?”.

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

Promises

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You hold Loki accountable to a promise he made to you in your youth. He happily obliges. Warnings: a bit angsty but also fluff! A/N: This is the first of my 900 followers requests, asked for by the lovely @gaitwae! The italics are for what was said in the past. Hope you all enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“We’ll be together forever, right Loki?”

“No, we will not.”

“Oh.”

You replayed the conversation in your mind, tossing and turning in your bed. You wanted to chalk it up to a dream or a nightmare, just something your mind was making up. Alas, you weren’t asleep yet, and you recognized the memory. It was something you dwelt on often, that night all those years ago before his princely duties started in full.

You’d been the trickster god’s closest friend and confidant all throughout your childhood, and as time went on, you’d developed feelings for the raven haired mischief-maker. Sadly, as you got older and busier, you’d begun spending less time together. Never had either of you entirely forgotten about the other, though, and still checked in when you could.

And then he fell off the Bifröst.

For nearly a year, you’d mourned Loki, believing you’d lost him. All of Asgard had, or at least that’s what they said. Between all the feasting and carrying on as normal, you weren’t actually sure how much anyone missed him. At least Thor and Frigga had the decency to give you a sad smile when they passed you in the palace halls, though you couldn’t tell how much that was for your own benefit and how much was their own grief. In some ways, you felt you were still mourning him.

But he was back now, locked in the dungeons. Your heart had soared with hope when you’d heard the younger Odinson had returned, only to have it plummet to your stomach when you saw your friend being led to the palace in chains. As he’d passed, you were too afraid to meet his gaze, so you hid yourself behind a pillar, separate from the crowd. Ignoring the gasps and murmuring, you screwed your eyes closed, picturing the days when you and Loki were kids playing hide and seek. Yes, any second now, he’d come and find you, excited for his turn to hide. After all, he always had the better spots, and you’d spend the better part of the hour searching for him, knowing your reward would be laughing together as you rolled in the grass of the courtyard. But he never came, and soon the sounds of the gathered crowd faded away for real.

Shaking yourself of the numbing shock you felt, you’d gone to Thor and demanded he tell you what the meaning of all this was. Remorsefully, he shared the story of Loki’s attack on Earth. But there was something missing. Some piece of the narrative had to have been left out. You didn’t manage to make it to him before he was led to the dungeons, so he was locked up before you could find out the whole truth.

“And do you know why that is, darling?”

“I can’t say that I do. Tell me?”

Loki’s arrival was two months ago, and you’d only just recently gotten the courage to face your friend and had schemed up a plan to make it happen. Frigga had always been good to you, and you’d gotten her to clear the path by telling her you needed closure. You’d asked to go at night when it would draw as little attention as possible, and she obliged. Slipping from your bed, you made ready to go, and before you knew it, you were at the dungeon’s entrance. The guards had been notified and let you pass. As you walked by, you pretended to trip, catching yourself on the guard, giggling like you were nothing but a helpless noble. Meanwhile, you swiped his keys. It was a trick Loki had taught you in your youth.

“Loki,” you whispered, stepping out of the shadows and into view of his cell. Of course he was awake; he was very much a creature of the night, dark and dangerous yet incredibly beautiful.

“I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” he chuckled nervously as the yellow force field making up the walls of his confinement made known the keyhole to you. You turned the key, dissipating the magic barrier. “I honestly did not think you would come.”

“Well, you obviously don’t know me as well as I thought you did. I have a promise to hold you to.”

Loki gently took your hand and raised it to his lips, whispering against your skin. “I do know you, I just do not deserve this. I am sorry, darling.”

“I know, and I forgive you.” You bit your lip. “Do you still mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“The promise.”

Loki’s eyes lit up, knowing exactly what you were talking about. “More and more every day.”

With a shared knowing look and a quick brush of your lips against each other, you and Loki stole away from Asgard under the cover of darkness, ready to build your future together. You smiled at him as you remembered his final words from that night, all those years ago.

“I promise not only for forever, darling, but for forever and always.”

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someillplanetreigns · 3 years

Text

Hardest of Hearts

Post-Canon Sylki

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: T

Summary: “It was all I had,” she said softly. Was she – no, she couldn’t be. Was she? She was crying. Another trick? He could hear her fighting the tears.

“Revenge. I couldn’t give up the only thing I had.”

“You had me!”He stopped himself saying But I wasn’t enough, was I?

She raised her head. Tears were streaming down her face. She looked snotty and blotchy and so soul-wrenchingly beautiful. “Revenge was all that I deserved.”

Additional tags: fix-it; angst with a happy ending; love confessions; self-esteem issues; Sylvie has issues; but she really is trying; inexperienced Sylvie; post-canon; post episode 6; happy ending

With huge thanks to @violetvapours for betaing this!

You can also read on Ao3

Here he was again, then. Another timeline, another TVA, another interrogation, another ugly little room. They’d left him alone, probably because they were off panicking somewhere over what to do with him. Who would interrogate him? Mobius again? Would that be better or worse, to have that familiar face that no longer saw him as familiar?

They wouldn’t need to play him the tape this time. He could play it all back in his own mind in perfect, agonising detail.

There was someone in the room. He felt the presence, though he hadn’t heard the door. Had he merely missed it? He didn’t look up immediately, prolonging the not knowing for that moment longer. And then slowly, so slowly, he turned his head.

She looked worse even than she had on Lamentis, when they’d been sure they were going to die. She looked like something had broken inside of her. And she looked – so unlike herself – hesitant.

He said nothing. They stared at one another, the room stretching between them like a chasm.

After what felt like eternity, she broke the silence.

“I fucked up.”

“Oh, really?” He lacked the energy for the full force of the sardonic tone.

“I didn’t mean to send you here. I thought I was sending you back to where you’d be safe, with Mobius and B-15.” She made her way further into the room slowly, cautious, like she was approaching a wild animal. Or like she was a wild animal. “I didn’t realise how the branch worked. I’ve been hunting the timelines for you.”

“Well perhaps if you hadn’t felt the need to make your rejection quite so dramatic...”

“It wasn’t –” she burst out, then caught herself. She lowered her eyes.

“Was it satisfying?” he asked, hating himself for it. “Killing him?”

Slowly, so slowly, she shook her head. The knowledge did not make him feel any better.

“It was all I had,” she said softly. Was she – no, she couldn’t be. Was she? She was crying. Another trick? He could hear her fighting the tears. “Revenge. I couldn’t give up the only thing I had.”

“You had me!”

He stopped himself saying But I wasn’t enough, was I?

She raised her head. Tears were streaming down her face. She looked snotty and blotchy and so soul-wrenchingly beautiful. “Revenge was all that I deserved.”

“What?”

She scrubbed her sleeve over her face ineffectually. “You’re so much better than me. That’s it, that’s you, you’re the superior Loki.” Her weak attempt at a joke brought on a fresh sob. “You were the one who cared about saving the universe and innocent lives – I only ever cared about getting back at whoever did this to me. I’m not like you. I’m not good.”

Before he could find words, she ranted on, “His dreamland, where we run the TVA, don’t you see what would have happened? You would have realised. You would have realised that I’m no good, that you deserve so much better, and you would have –”

“Sylvie...”

He was on his feet without even realising he’d stood up.

“I know, I know,” she said, “you’ll say you wouldn’t, but...” She swallowed. “That was my first kiss.”

“That...? Your distraction tactic? That was your first kiss? How?”

“It was not a distraction tactic! I wanted... But I – This is exactly what I mean.”

He moved towards her. Norns knew she could be lying. But... But Loki knew lying. And this...

“I told you, I spent my life running from the end of one world to the end of another. I spent my life alone and angry and scared, and I didn’t have... anyone. How, in all of that, could I trust anyone enough to...” She made a nondescript gesture with her hands. “Whereas you, you’re a prince saving the universe. However much I want you, I can’t have you. I was so wrong that they pruned me as a child. They robbed me of any chance I had to be happy.” A beat. “Or I did.”

He cupped her shoulders gently in his hands, steadied her.

“I know you can’t forgive me. But I don’t know how to stop this mess with the timelines on my own. So if you can just... be the superior Loki and put aside how much you hate me to help me fix it...”

“Sylvie. Stop.”

She looked at him, eyes wide. He could see without feeling that her pulse was hammering.

“What do you want?” he asked. “Not what you think you have to want, or what you are projecting that I should want, or anything else. Just. What do you want?”

She was shaking beneath his hands. “I want to be able go back and not push you away. I want to go back and for us to find another option, not time fascism or time war, something else, some other way.”

“Which is to say?”

“Which is to say... I want... you.”

He slid his hand into her hair and tipped her mouth to his. He tasted the salt of her tears. He suckled on her lip gently, trying to soothe her even as he encouraged her. Tentatively, she pressed closer. He deepened the kiss, drawing her in, parting just for an instant to whisper her name before surging back in as though he needed her to breathe.

“There,” he husked when they finally parted, not going far. “That’s two now.”

She looked at him with such raw vulnerability that he couldn’t stop himself leaning in once more to just brush her lips with his.

“I knew,” he said, finally pulling back to look at her, “I knew that in that moment, what you needed was for me to back you up. For me to say, ‘Have at him!’ and cheer for you when you killed him. The reason I didn’t do that isn’t that I’m better than you. It’s because I haven’t been through what you’ve been through. And it’s because, on the other side of that gambit, I wanted you. Sylvie, you’re... incredible. And it’s not just that you’re beautiful and talented and witty and determined and that you defy all expectations, although you are and do all of those things –”

“So you’re saying I’m you, basically?” It was a teary version of her usual tone, and it made his heart soar.

“Sssh. You are all of those things, but at the end of the day... Sylvie, it’s real. With you, it’s... it’s real. I don’t know if you believe me, or if you feel...”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she whispered to him. “I love you, and I know what I did was... that I...”

“I love you too.”

She clung to him for a long moment, her breathing slowly evening out. She smelt of ozone and smoke and frost and magic.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry that I... How do I unfuck it?”

He moved her so he could look at her again, but kept his arms round her. “You need to trust me. If I trust that you aren’t going to push me through another time door, that you are choosing me, will you trust that I am choosing you? That I am choosing you, and I am the one who gets to make that choice, and I am making it because you are everything?”

She sniffed and nodded slowly. She reached up to wrap herself round him again. “I trust you. I trust you.”

She was fumbling in her pocket, and in spite of himself he had a wild moment of panic. Then she pressed the TemPad into his hand.

“I trust you,” she said again.

Taking the TemPad, he took her other hand in his. He kissed her again, deep and adoring, trying to pour everything he felt into it, and finding she was giving the same.

“Let’s go,” he said. He opened a door.

“We do have a universe to save,” she said, her voice still rough from the crying.

“Yes. Although I believe you have some catching up to do first – that’s only four, and there are so many other –”

She elbowed him, but her smile was radiant. He smiled back. Hand in hand, they stepped through the door.

@dianamolloy @winterisakiller you both expressed interest (thank you!)

If anyone else would like to be tagged in this or anything else, please let me know! I don’t currently have a tag list

#this is my writing tag #hardest of hearts fic #sylki #loki x sylvie #the loki show #loki series spoilers

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uhlikzsuzsanna · 3 years

Link

Richard E. Grant Reveals Whether Classic Loki Is Gone for Good: 'How Do You Top That?' (Exclusive)

[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Loki Season 1, Episode 5, “Journey Into Mystery.”]

Richard E. Grant seems the ideal candidate to be conscripted into Marvel's cinematic universe: He's an Oscar nominee (Can You Ever Forgive Me?) who doesn't take himself too seriously (he's been in two Hitman's Bodyguard movies) and he's already on the Disney payroll (having joined the Star Wars franchise for The Rise of Skywalker). Yet, the actor says he and Marvel had never discussed his entrée into the MCU until Loki.

"I'd been in Logan, but that's completely separate," he told me over Zoom. "I'd joked on and off down the years with Tom Hiddleston, because of some vague similarity in the way that we look -- me, a much older version of course -- about working together as father and son in something. I assumed because I was asked to play Old Loki, I thought, 'Oh, this is the call finally,' because of the physical similarity. So, that's as much as I knew."

Grant made his Loki debut in the post-credits scene of episode 4 as "Classic" Loki, a Variant of our Hiddleston's God of Mischief who dons Loki's comics-accurate green and gold getup and ultimately goes out in a blaze of magical glory in the penultimate episode. Ahead of the Loki finale, Grant chatted with ET about answering Marvel's call, his one major complaint with his costume and whether Classic Loki is gone for good.

ET: Beyond you looking Hiddleston-y or him looking Richard E. Grant-y, what was it about this character in this story that you knew, "Yes, this is my part in the MCU"?

Richard E. Grant: Well, the key is in Old Loki, because being 64, I was older than anybody on the entire crew or cast. So, that was the clue in, I thought, "Old Loki, that's it -- I'm in the old age roles now."

What else were you told about him in that initial pitch? And was the costume part of it? Because it seems so much part of the character.

Yeah. And when the costume designer showed me my face on this costume that she designed and I saw the Jack Kirby drawings from the '60s, I thought, "Oh, great! As I have no muscles" -- as you can see -- "I'm finally going to be in a muscle suit. I'm going to have muscles like Tom has got!" And of course, I got there and I said, "Well, where's the muscle suit?" They said, "You don't have a muscle suit. This is what you're wearing." I said, "But this is like Kermit the Frog. There's no muscles. There's nothing here! How can I fight in Asgard?" [Laughs] "No, no, it's your magic that counts!" And I said, "Help me. Just give me the muscle suit," but they refused. So, I'm still sore headed that I was never given a muscle suit to fight Asgard as in all the drawings. I still don't really why they didn't do that, but maybe they wanted withered Loki. Who knows?

So, what was your reaction the first time you got all the garb on and saw yourself in the mirror?

Horrified, because I had no muscles! I was standing there like sort of a geek with these Y-fronts. I remember when I was a kid in the back of all the comics, they used to have these little drawing adverts with a skinny kid having sand kicked in his face. And they used to have these chest expanders, they said, "Send off for one of these chest expanders and you too could look like Thor!" Well, I never did, and I thought, well, finally, when I'm cast as Old Loki, this is going to be my chance. And damn, they took it away from me in that too. So I'm pissed at them for that.

How did Hiddleston react when he first saw you in it?

He said, "You have no idea what kind of response this is going to elicit when it comes out." I said, "That doesn't sound too positive or hopeful to me without the muscles, Tom." And he said, "No, no, believe me, I've been playing this part and there's a universe of people who are so obsessed and so ready to see Classic Loki. Be prepared for it." I didn't really take him seriously. I thought, "Well it's a TV series. How many people will watch this on a new channel?" Yada, yada. And how right he was looking into the crystal ball and how wrong I was, because since it came out last Wednesday, I have been absolutely flabbergasted by the response. My Twitter feed and Instagram have increased in vast numbers, and the response has been pretty astonishing. I'm amazed and grateful that it hasn't been negative so far.

I loved your post, by the way, about how your father would have reacted to this costume.

Well, he was right! I'm still at 64 earning my crust by wearing makeup and green tights. [Laughs]

I have to assume this was also your first time with an alligator as your scene partner?

It was. And in reality it was three stuffed cushions sewn together. Sort of fun to hold!

Alligator Loki is such a breakout star and I loved seeing the blue plushy you used on set. What was it like filming those scenes? Did it feel absolutely ridiculous?

No, because I was grateful. Very often you'd have dots or crosses or just a tennis ball on a stick to react to, so the fact that we actually had the soft cushioned shape of something alligator-like was a help. But it's just the nature of being an actor. You know that the CGI and the graphics and production design department, they come up with something amazing. What I didn't take on board is that, of course, he'd have these beautiful gold horns on top of his alligator sideways eyes. I love that. I've only seen the stills of it, but it looks amazing.

Your final moment in the episode is so powerful. I'll tell you, it brought tears to my eyes. On set, I imagine you're probably in front of a blue screen having to use your imagination. Tell me about capturing that emotion and how you and Kate Herron found that moment together?

The camera was on a big sort of jig crane thing that was at the highest section of the studio and I would follow a mark on that and they had, I think, three or four aircraft-sized wind machines blowing the Bajesus out of everything. And I thought, having wondered whether the helmets and the horns had to be quite so tight, I was grateful for them on that day because they did not move despite the amount of wind that was blowing at me. It was scripted to say, "He's laughing and shortly and cackling in the face of his own imminent, catastrophic death in the mouth of [Alioth]," it was very empowering to be able to just give it the full welly at doing that. So, I enjoyed that hugely.

You said you've only seen stills of Alligator Loki. Have you seen the episode yet?

No.

So, you haven't seen how the scene looks with all the CGI yet?

I've seen stills that I'm holding up the city, so I've seen that. I have never got used to watching myself on screen. I love watching other people, but when I come on, I just-- I'm astonished that I get any work. So, I've learned decades ago just to never watch. So, when you see a still, you don't have the horror of your shortcomings to mull over.

Well, I will tell you, you looked pretty bad ass in that moment.

Good. Thank you, John!

This seems like the end for Classic Loki, but if this series has taught us one thing, it's that Lokis survive. Do you think we could see him again someday? And are you down to play him again?

As you just said, everything's possible. But I think that's because his sacrifice is so huge and it's going out with such a bang, how do you top that if he had to come back? I have no idea. You know, it's not within my arena to do that. But I wouldn't say no, if asked. Put it that way.

#Loki #Loki series #Richard E. Grant #interview #etonline #Tom Hiddleston #2021.07.12

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twh-news · 3 years

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Interview: Makeup Artist Douglas Noe on Loki’s Looks Through the Years & Creating Anew for ‘Loki’ [EXCLUSIVE]

Douglas Noe has been in Hollywood for three decades. An award-winning makeup artist, he’s worked on projects such as World War Z, Planet of the Apes, Spider-Man 3, I Saw the Light, and Birth of a Nation. On top of these impressive credits, he’s also been Tom Hiddleston’s personal makeup artist since joining the MCU in The Avengers, designing all of the looks for Loki’s subsequent appearances.

Noe has been nominated for three Emmys with one win, and five Makeup Artist and Hairstylist (MUAHS) Awards resulting in two MUAHS awards. His skills include creating making natural and period looks, prosthetics, hair, and tattoos.

Along with being the head of the makeup department for the most recent Disney+ series Loki, Noe is also creating looks for the new Netflix comedy series True Story starring Kevin Hart and Wesley Snipes.

We had a chance to chat with Douglas Noe about his work on Loki, The Avengers, the incomparable value of teamwork on set, and most importantly, Richard E. Grant.

Nerds and Beyond: So you started your Marvel journey with The Avengers, but what drew you to your field in the first place? And how did you get your start?

Douglas Noe: Star Wars was a huge influence to me as a young boy, both sketching and drawing, and a little bit of sculpting but not much. Cut to 1983, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” comes out and I find a magazine called Fangoria on the newsstands where I can order blood and wax and pencils and fake hair. So, I started playing with these things. I was also taken with the horror movie craze that was happening in the early 80s — Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th, and others, obviously.

In High School, in 1984, I joined choir thinking I would get an easy credit, but my voice had not changed. So the choral instructor had been waiting for a boy soprano to do a theatrical opera presentation. So with that I sang the lead, I quit choir after that, because my peers were merciless, but, I learned the world of theatrical makeup which I hadn’t been introduced to.

I did years of theater. I went to a performing arts high school — it’s called Fort Hayes School for the Performing Arts in Columbus, Ohio — graduated, went to beauty school, and continued working in Ohio doing industrial, commercial, theater, and opera [makeup]. Worked for Maybelline and Revlon, got restless, worked in Cincinnati on my first film in the summer of 1990, it was July so 31 years ago, A Rage in Harlem. And my boss said you come to Los Angeles, I’ll make sure you get on your feet.

Nerds and Beyond: So you mentioned that it’s been about 31 years since your career started, what’s changed over the course of those 30 years in your field?

Douglas: How much time do we have? I’d say the biggest, biggest change would probably be the way we make these things now. Although another large change, more specific, would be the materials that we use. There’s a constant evolution and reinvention of almost all aspects of the materials that a makeup artist uses. That said, I have to shine a light on the way we do things now with the onset of digital and digital cameras. Shooting on film now has almost completely fallen by the wayside. Film was very forgiving, quite frankly, and now it’s not so forgiving. And because of that, the bar has been raised. The wonderful thing about this journey is watching my peers just get better and better and better, my colleagues rising to meet the challenge of not having anything to hide from with this new way we make films.

Nerds and Beyond: So, sometimes you kind of throw prosthetics to the wayside in favor of a more traditional makeup. How do you make that decision on which one to go with?

Douglas: That’s an excellent question. The decision is based purely on what are we going to see. That’s where I start, what is the lighting? I have a conversation with the director of photography and I find out what is the dynamic. Obviously, I know from the script whether it’s an interior or exterior, or if we’re exterior but we’re going to be on a stage, if it’s day or night. These variables all play into my decision as to whether or not I should rely on my theatrical experience and ability to paint 2D to appear 3D, or go ahead and make small prosthetics and put them where I need to put them and use actual prosthetics in lieu of paint.

That has everything to do with lighting, locations, logistics, and because most of his [Loki’s] wounds appear on his arm and some on his face in the Void, it’s all very moody and very dark. And again, the theatrical quality of the paint is not going to be altered by the changing light, it’s just going to react the same way the rest of the face is going to react. It’s purple light, it’s going to make everything have a purple hue. There was no accounting for any correction that didn’t need to be done. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. It’s real.

Nerds and Beyond: So, you did make up for not only Tom on Loki, but you helped plan out the looks for everybody?

Douglas: Yes, what I do is I surround myself with strong talent. It’s all about team. I designed Wunmi Mosaku, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Sophia DiMartino, and Tom [Hiddleston]. Regarding the rest of it, Neil Ellis, both Dennis Liddiard and I, added to the elements of his scars and wounds, which you would only see in close-ups.

The rest of it, the parameters are set — Blade Runner to Mad Men — and stay in those confines. And obviously, I choose color palettes for the women and there are parameters set for the men, but then it’s about team. I’m a big one on a team and not putting my thumbprints on other people’s work, but rather build other people up so they feel like they own what they’re doing.

My team consists of artists that also have stronger resumes and quite frankly, skills that exceed mine. It’s the mutual trust that allows us to keep a high level of artistic integrity in every aspect of the job. It also means I get the very best from my team, and it shows on the screen.

So, I didn’t have every look in my hand. Dennis Liddiard designed the Mobius character and I had Ned Neidhardt run with Gugu and turn up the volume on some of the elements that she already possesses that we can play with. Her eyes and lips, I think Ned turned the volume on both. And because we’re shooting in order, it’s a progression in the makeup you did.

Nerds and Beyond: When it came to Sylvie and Loki, when you when you’re doing those, did you try to kind of plan them both to have any similar things to give them a Loki look?

Douglas: It’s a fair question, but the answer is no. So again, I think the characteristics and traits that were going to be similar among them, aside from wardrobe and costume hints, were all character driven. And I did nothing with the makeup and hair to try to make them look or even closely resemble each other.

Nerds and Beyond: I want to kind of back up a little bit to Tom in the first Avengers film. That was by far one of his most standout looks. Can you tell me anything about what went into the creation of that absolutely tormented, haunted look that he had throughout that entire movie?

Douglas: Yeah, and that’s probably one of the elements that, because the character has evolved, we kind of left with Avengers because by the end of Avengers, and we carried it into Endgame, he does have a bit of an edgier look in Avengers, and not many people pick up on it. But the reality is he’s a little sculpted in Avengers.

I remember sculpting his cheekbones and temples, and doing a little play on his forehead for when he’s in the cell on the Helicarrier carrier with all that overhead lighting. I did like a little devil horn shadow, which is so subtle. The only person who’s going to notice is anybody who looks back at it and having read this and knows what to look for, but it is so nuanced and so subtle. And that’s the only place I think we did that. But the rest of him is very much chiseled and sculpted, but it’s a light touch.

And I think, again, as he evolved through the Marvel Universe and into the other movies that was something that was easy to leave behind, because I think that look played directly into his evil desire to rule over Earth. We rested that design element with that storyline.

Nerds and Beyond: It’s very clear too and I’ve always loved looking at that, because I’m a huge fan of the character. I’ve always loved kind of comparing how he looked in that movie to the rest of them.

Douglas: You’re on to me!

Nerds and Beyond: I’m not! I swear [laughs] So, what’s your best method for making the actors comfortable in the makeup chair? And with the final outcome?

Douglas: It’s dialogue; listening, talking to them, talking to their representation, whether it be an agent or a manager, and doing my homework and doing my due diligence to find out what’s going to make them comfortable the moment they walk through the door. I do my homework on them. It’s not just IMDb, it’s an internet search. So, I spend some time on the web and find out who these folks are, and if I find out, for example, they’re not one that likes to talk a lot, well, the writing’s on the wall, we’re not going to talk a lot, we’ll cut to the chase and get to the point. But also, it’s about building a rapport and building a relationship. Also, knowing that, I’ve said this in previous discussions, knowing it’s necessary to get out of the way.

Like if, for example, I’m not a proper fit for somebody, I have to be plugged in, I have to be aware enough to understand that it may not be working before somebody says to me, “Hey, this isn’t gonna work.” So it’s just about being open, especially as Tom’s personal on these projects and running the department, knowing that I don’t get to do everybody. I don’t get to put my thumbprint on other people’s work. Because not only is that disrespectful, it’s very often unnecessary, because I hire good people. I hire contemporaries and peers. Truly, you’re only as good as your weakest crew member. I surround myself with good people.

So, take Owen Wilson, for example, it would have been wonderful to do Owen’s makeup, but there were times when he was not going to be shooting with Tom and I was going to need to be ready for Tom or available to Tom, so it didn’t make sense. So I never touched Owen, I had Dennis Liddiard design that look and run with it. And then Ned Neidhardt took over that look when Dennis had to depart. That’s just one example of not trying to do everything.

Another one was the Classic Loki. I wanted to do Richard E. Grant’s [makeup] so bad, I can’t even tell you. I’ve been a huge fan since 1987. I wanted so badly to bring that full circle, didn’t make sense. It just didn’t make sense. So again, I never touched him. It wasn’t necessary. Ned was always there. And I think the same thing happened to me on Ragnarok reshoots, which I ran in Atlanta again with Dennis Liddiard. I wanted so badly to do Sir Anthony Hopkins makeup, but it didn’t make sense. So I was happy to hand it off to Bill Myer.

Nerds and Beyond: Oh man, I loved Richard E. Grant in this show so much.

Douglas: He’s amazing.

Nerds and Beyond: He’s so good!

Douglas: He really is. And he’s that good in person. He’s just so fun and interesting and alluring and attractive. He’s such a wonderful, wonderful person and, of course, a phenomenal actor.

Nerds and Beyond: I was watching little videos that he posted and he just seems like the warmest person.

Douglas: You know, just one last tidbit about Richard Grant is he’s got wonderful stories and as he’s telling them he’ll often stop and pause and just laugh. Just laugh, not for the sake of the stories or for anybody that he’s telling the story to, but because recounting the story brings him true joy. So he’ll stop and embrace that joy. Oh, it’s so wonderful.

Nerds and Beyond: That’s so amazing to hear. What is the most memorable job that you’ve done?

Douglas: The most memorable … That’s a tough one because I have so many fond memories of so many projects. The first Avengers film was memorable because there was a buzz, there was a vibration, a frequency, that was in the air when we were shooting that. We kind of knew we were making something big and something special. I don’t think any of us knew how big or how special it would be, but that certainly is one of the most memorable and most special projects.

I’m pretty good about focusing on the positive aspects of all these things, regardless of how difficult the project may be for whatever reason. The pros always, always heavily outweigh the cons, but I have a lot of wonderful, memorable experiences. Another one, it’s the polar opposite only because of the conditions in which we shot, but Birth of the Nation was one of the most memorable and exceptional experiences of my career. I was on the wrong side of 40, had 25 years of experience, and had still never worked so hard in my entire life. We did a 50-day shoot in 27 days. So proud of the work we did.

It was 100 degrees with 99 percent humidity, we shot it in the summer in Georgia, in Savannah, so it was hot, humid, and just getting the makeup necessary to be on individuals to stay put was its own challenge. And then the other challenges only added to that. But Nate Parker, the director, writer, producer, and lead actor, he is a special human being. And he was inspiring from start to finish. Usually, the first people in are the teamsters, transport department, and usually I’m second. He beat me in almost every single day. He’s in three hours before he needs to be. That was a very special experience.

Nerds and Beyond: Finally, are you excited about the news of Loki Season 2?

Douglas: I’m beyond thrilled! I invite being in the dark a little bit, I kind of like surprises and I like not knowing, so I suspected, but hearing the news confirmed, I was thrilled, naturally. What are they going to dream up? This is amazing. How do you top season 1 of Loki? That’s the burning question.

#loki #loki series #douglas noe #interview #article #nerds and beyond

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

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Eye of the Storm 9

Warnings: nonconsensual sex (series), teasing, some fingering

This is dark!Thor and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a new servant at the palace of Asgard but the job isn’t so easy as you thought.

Note: Um, some stuff happens.

(I can’t blame @lokislastlove but I will anyway)

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

That night was as sleepless as many since your arrival at the palace. You mourned your old life not just for its simplicity but for the restful nights, even if they hadn’t been very long then either.

In the morning, the routine you’d formed was the only thing that kept you from stewing in anxiety and self-pity. You just couldn’t help but sink yourself further into the mud.

You took the tray from the kitchen and crept your way up the winding staircases to the upper floors. A sense of dread filled you, a cursed sense of deja vu pervaded your mind.

You had to stop to gather yourself outside the solarium, having unintentionally taken a turn that would see you past the king’s chambers. Loki’s were just a single corridor away. Before, they’d felt like a haven but now it was like entering another snare. The snake’s tooth was just as sharp as the lion’s fang.

You took a breath and knocked with your elbow. No answer came and you kicked instead. Still, the silence remained.

Surely you weren’t to carry the tray all the way back to the kitchen, you knew Loki was within. So you balanced the tray against your hip and opened the door as it teetered precariously. You entered and closed the door with your bottom, jostling the lid just a little. The prince, presumably, was still abed.

You went to the balcony and set the tray in its usual place on the round table. You turned back and swept through to the receiving chamber. You listened for any stirs from the bedroom. It would be better to wait.

The prince no doubt recalled the previous night as well as you, though he’d not have an ounce of guilt for it. In fact, you suspected he would be quite indignant on your errant tongue. His curt dismissal, still crisp in your head, assured you of that.

You didn’t wait long as you were called to attendance. Loki’s voice carried through the open door and you froze in place, only then realising how you’d been pacing around the chaise. You went to the doorway and hovered just upon the threshold of the bedchamber.

Loki sat up as you did, his chest bare and pale as the sunlight peered in through the tall windows. His black hair was askew, unlike its usual sleek perfection, and his green eyes were slitted with the remnants of his slumber.

“Ah, timely as always,” He commented as he turned his legs over the side of the bed, the blankets pulling away from him as he did. He was naked and either unaware of it or unaffected by it. “Come here.”

He stretched his arms above him and you reluctantly obeyed. You approached nervously, your eyes on his profile as you prayed they didn’t slip lower. He reached to you as you neared and grabbed your wrist. You let out a yelp as he pulled you close and fell back on the bed with you atop him. Your eyes were wide and fearful as you stared down at him.

He smiled and chuckled, his gazed flicked down and back to your face.

“Forgive me, I did not realise--” He said. “I do forget myself.” He purred, your lips only an inch from his. “Would you be so kind as to fetch me some water?” He sat up and shoved you off of him. “I am terribly thirsty.”

You blinked and bit down on your cheek as you turned to grab the ewer of water on the side table against the far wall. You poured a cup and returned to him. He took it and drained it easily before he stood, handing it back as he sidled past you.

"If you would draw me a bath," He said as he rounded the bed and went to the window.

"Your highness," You uttered stiffly.

You left him, thankful to be away from him, and neared the pump at the head of the ebony tub. You cranked it and watched the water splash down.

You were more angry at yourself than Loki. You knew not to trust him and perhaps you hadn't but you had thought him different than Thor. Sure, he was deceptive, arrogant, and entirely self-serving, but you hadn't thought him to be... like that.

He entered and you stopped the faucet. The water had risen rather high. You stepped out from behind the tub and stared at the marble floor as you walked along the wall to the other side. Loki went to the tub and paused at its edge.

"You might set out my attire for the day. I've a council meeting shortly." He said. "If only I were king and could hold my own pleasure above the needs of the realm."

"Yes, your highness," You were quick in your flight, taking his dismissal before he could rescind.

Even so, you were unnerved that he let you go so easily. As you were learning, Loki was patient and with time, his plots grew ever more sinister.

You went to his wardrobe and chose one of his many green tunics, this one trimmed in silver, and a pair of matching trousers. His heavy emerald jacket was hung at the read from a hook on the wall and you laid it out next to the rest of his outfit. You rubbed your hands together as you listened to the gentle ripples of water and his movement from the next room. No doubt leaving would only make whatever torment he had planned worse. Oh how much like his brother he truly was.

When he emerged, covered from the waist down with a towel, you stood by the door. He approached the bed and looked over your selection with a haughty grin. He let the towel fall slack and bent to dry himself. You looked away and focused on the engraving of a snake hung over the desk.

“Tell me,” He said and you kept your eyes above his shoulders as you glanced at him. “Did my brother have you dress him? Well, of course that’s rhetorical. He must have.”

You pursed your lips and said nothing. The silence was your begrudging answer.

“Don’t worry, dear, I can dress myself,” He took his undershorts and stepped into them. “I will however have you accompany me to the day’s council. The king has insisted upon it though I’d rather he put more effort into his marriage. Figures he would heed his duty when another lays upon his shoulders.”

You found it hard to do more than taste the bile of anger rising on your tongue. You cleared your throat and recited a tame “your highness.”

He smiled to himself and continued to dress. Deliberate and slow, it felt like an eternity before he was clothed. He brushed his hair and glanced in his mirror. He turned his head to admire his sharp features and stood straight. He went to his desk and seized the heavy ledger and a bundle of papers. He approached and thrust them into your arms.

“Very well, let us be off,” He declared. “But I do expect you to wipe that trite look off your face in the presence of the council. I will not shy away from doing it for you should you continue to wear it.”

You inhaled and eased the tension from your jaw as you bowed your head. He stepped past you and strutted into the receiving room.

“Do not tarry,” He called to you. “Unless you do long for my remonstrance.”

🌩️

You did not miss the surprise that raised Loki’s brow as you arrived at the council chamber. Thor was the first there and sat at the head of the long table. Before him, he had his own stack of papers and barely even acknowledged his brother’s presence as he perused them.

The other lords came one at a time. You’d only attended one other session and yet something felt amiss. The way the men and single lady sat wordlessly and eyes flitted here and there, never quite meeting as something remained unsaid. You glanced at Loki for any hint of what it might be and to your surprise he seemed just as perplexed.

Thor brought the meeting to order as he sat up and slapped the table. He took a breath and could barely withhold his questionable pleasure. You peeked at Loki again and then back at the king. He had effectively ignored your presence and you felt as if you should be thankful and yet it only injected you with a sense of foreboding.

“As some of you are already aware, today is more of a formality than anything. I do have a new wife awaiting my attentions and I do hate to disappoint her so early in our union.” Thor announced. “So let us get to the matter at hand.” He paused and raised a hand to Loki who shuffled a paper before him. “Brother, your paltry little gripes can wait until our next. I do not care for the tax on grains.”

Loki’s lip twitched and he merely swallowed his protest. He looked to Sif and then Hogun. They both avoided his gaze and he poked his tongue against his top lip as he thought. Something was indeed going on.

“We will be holding a vote today on the matter of at last reinstating the legacy act.” Thor explained. “Brother, I have always admired your knowledge of our legislation. Surely you are familiar with the act.”

Lines formed around Loki’s lips and across his forehead. His green eyes burned fiercely as he glared at his brother.

“I am aware of it. I am more than. I recall our father disbanded it upon our mother’s insistence and it was upon good reason that he did.” Loki replied. “The kingdom does not need a civil war.”

“Nor does it need an empty throne,” Thor countered smoothly. “My wife, should the fates bless us, is expected to provide me the heirs necessary to continue our lineage but we both know how fickle fate can prove. I should hate to leave my kingdom without a prince, or should we have one, a princess.”

“Calla is young, she has many siblings as did her mother and father,” Loki insisted. “You hardly need insurance upon our bloodline.”

“Ah, but we cannot rely on assumptions or hopes. Didn’t you always warn me of such optimism? Ever the cynic, you are, brother,” Thor chided, “I finally take your advice and you look as if you’ve swallowed your own tongue.”

Loki’s fingers tapped on the stone table and he shrugged. “Very well, put it to a vote then brother. Certainly I am not the only who sees through your foolishness.”

“Before we go forward, are all parties familiar with the contents of the legacy act?” Thor asked. All nodded, Loki with some reluctance as he looked around. “Very well, let us vote. All those in favour,” All but the prince said aye, “And against, “Nay.” Loki shook his head, his defeat already obvious.

Thor nodded and sat back in victory. Swift, neat, easy. You knew as Loki did, as he stared down each member of the council, that they had conspired without him. The prince realised all too late that his brother was just as tricky as he was. You hadn’t any idea what had been done but as the king’s eyes settled on you and he winked, you knew it could not be good.

“Maid,” Loki beckoned to you. “I do favour a walk in the woods. If you would pack my lunch in a basket and await me in my chambers, I shall not be much longer with the matters of council.”

“Your highness,” You dipped your head.

“Quickly,” He bid under his breath and waved you away.

You obeyed, eager to be away as much as he wanted you away. His urgency to have you gone was an ill omen. It confirmed that whatever trouble twinkled in Thor’s eyes would not be good for either you or the prince.

🌩️

You walked along just a step behind Loki as he led you through the trees, stopping to watch a passing bird or look closer at some leaf or petal. He had been quiet since his return from council. He’d not said a word as he tossed a blanket from the chest into the basket you’d packed with cheese, bread, and wine, and a book as well. You carried the heavy load along the narrow trails, the air warm as it was trapped by the thick trunks around you.

You came upon a clearing and he paced around its parameter. He bid you to lay down the blanket and as you did, he sat upon it, one leg bent and the other straight. He rested his elbow on the bent one and hummed in thought. You pulled out his lunch but he didn’t seem very interested in the food.

“Sit,” He said as he gestured beside him. You sat on your knees and stared at the weave of the blanket. “Are you going to ask or shall I take the initiative?”

You peeked over at him and he sighed. You shrugged and he pushed back a strand of his dark hair.

“The legacy act was created to ensure that the kingdom was not left without heir.” Loki rubbed his chin as he spoke. “Be it legitimate or otherwise.” The words seemed sour on his tongue as he forced them out. “It legalizes the keeping of concubines by the monarch so that he may assure himself a continued bloodline.” Loki shook his head. “I am certain you can guess why my brother did take an interest in reviving the antiquated and ridiculous bill.”

Your mouth fell open as it was not difficult to surmise. Even an uneducated servant like yourself could solve such a basic equation. Yet, a part of you still wanted to deny it. The king would not do all that because of you. He could have any woman in the kingdom; in your estimate, he had.

“I do understand.” You said.

Loki was silent and he reached for the loaf of bread. He took a chunk of bread and a piece of cheese and offered it to you. You thanked him as you accepted it but didn’t feel much hunger as that terrible feeling sunk deeper and deeper. Was it destiny or dread?

“Is that it?” You wondered. “Nothing else to say?”

“On the matter of my brother and his foolery? No,” Loki bit into the cheese.

You looked down at the food in your hand and broke off a piece of cheese and bread and began to nibble at it. You ate slowly, silently. The prince offered you more but you declined as you feared your stomach would flip. He packed up the leftovers himself but did not rise. He took the book he had slipped into the basket and sat back, his legs sprawled out before him.

“Do you like stories?” He asked.

“I suppose,” You answered as you played with a blade of grass pulled from along the edge of the blanket. “My mother used to tell us about the monsters found by the fishermen.”

“Well this is nothing so fantastical as that but entertaining nonetheless,” Loki said. “Would you like me to read it to you?”

You considered him a moment. He had tasted bitter defeat and it seemed to humble him but you did not truly believe him. How could you? He had proven himself a convincing actor. Yet, you found the question harmless enough. A story; a brief escape from your reality. Perhaps he was belittling you with the offer but it seemed your pride would be chipped away one way or the other.

“I would,” You accepted. “If it is no trouble to you.”

“Not at all,” He accepted. “Come,” He pointed between his legs, “Sit with me.”

Then it returned. That repulsive flavour, that bubbling sickness. Ridicule. Why had you thought it would be anything less than another trick? You didn’t have the energy to argue with the prince. You’d tried it the night before and found it futile. Humour him and perhaps he would lose interest. It wasn’t so amusing when your prey gave you no chase.

You walked on your knees to him and turned to sit between his legs. His hand rested on your hip as he guided you and bent his legs to cradle you. His hand snaked around to your stomach and he urged you to lean back against him.

“Do you mind if I continue from my mark?” He asked.

“No,” You said flatly. You just didn’t care anymore.

“Very good,” He praised as he opened the book with one hand and cleared his throat.

‘He’d never seen a creature like her. Never seen the coils of sheer delight that seemed to contort her body.’

You went rigid as you registered the words, the scene set without much preamble as his soft tone seeped into your ears.

‘It was at his touch that she writhed and raved. That she pleaded for more and yet, he had barely done anything more than pet her.’

Loki’s hand slipped down your stomach to your lap. Before you could press your legs together, his hand was between them.

“Ahh,” He warned you bluntly. “Just sit and listen. Don’t you move.”

You swallowed and looked at the text. You’d never learned to read and wondered if perhaps he was conjuring the words on his own. It didn’t matter. You just sat there as his finger pressed your skirt against your cunt.

‘He obliged her, his fingers moving almost upon their own accord.’ His own seemed to mimic the written scene. ‘He traced circles along her tender bud and watched those upon her chest sharpen. The way she gasped, moaned, and soon enough, sobbed had him swollen with desire.’

His fingers swirled as he rubbed you through your dress and your thighs squeezed his hand as the peculiar tingle stoked the panic only then breaking through your apathy. You touched his hand and he waved you away with a hum which warned of worse. You bit your lip without thinking as the ripples that rose in you echoed the movement of his fingertips.

‘He slipped further down and felt the sacred folds of her flowers. Two fingers sank into her, coated in her lust, and she choked upon her pleasure.’

His words faded in your mind as his hand stoked your body. You’d never felt anything like it before. You wanted him to stop and yet you didn’t. His voice carried on without a hint of what he was doing to you but you could not focus on the story. You leaned into him and purred as you felt yourself nearing some precipice you couldn’t see.

Your toes curled against your sandals and you grasped Loki’s knee without thinking as you arched your back. You let out a sharp cry as the tension broke suddenly and deluge washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and closed as you panted through the pulsing pleasure and his fingers slowed, easing you down from your peak.

When you opened your eyes, the book was closed. You felt a prodding along your lower back and Loki’s hand floated away from your lap. He felt along your side and sent a shiver through you as he leaned in to inhale the scent of your neck. His lips brushed your skin as he spoke.

“Remember this when he takes you,” He said. “Know that he will never make you feel better than I can.”

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

Note

Congrats on follower milestone! I greatly enjoy your presence on my dash with your thoughts and witty tags and all :) For the Loki writing prompt, here's a sort of idea or mood or emotion, very vague, but maybe you can make something of it, and if not, totally cool! Prompt: Mobius taking care of Loki.

@humbae Thanks so much for your kind words as well as the prompt! I kinda just took the "taking care of" idea and had Mobius do the bare minimum, bc it's angstier that way, but I hope you like it anyway.

Summary: Takes place immediately after the end of episode 1; Loki has a realization and Mobius kinda maybe cares. Word Count: 1460 Author’s notes: Please forgive the quality, I started this earlier today and wanted to post it before watching the finale, so I finished the last bit of it in a less-than-alert state, merp.

“What’s this?” Loki asks. He can’t keep the edge of suspicion out of his voice.

“It’s tea,” Mobius says, as if it’s obvious. He sets the red mug down in front of Loki. “What we normally do is drink it.”

The suspicion doesn’t leave him. Loki eyes the mug, wondering if he’d even be able to tell if Mobius had done something nefarious to it - but, there would be little point in Mobius going to the trouble of intervening in Loki’s “trial” and recruiting him to the TVA only to turn around and poison him so, despite himself, Loki picks up the mug and takes a cautious sip.

“Hope you like chamomile,” Mobius adds as he takes the seat across from Loki. “It’s all I could find.”

“It’s passable,” Loki says, after a longer sip. When was the last time he’d had anything to drink? He can’t remember; the blur of New York shifts too sharply into the shock of the TVA and his brain feels too muddled to grasp onto any specifics. There’s been a consistent twisting in his stomach for days; he doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s eaten, either.

Mobius is just watching him and Loki hunches his shoulders, a bit defensively. “What,” he says, setting down the mug.

Mobius shrugs. “You’re not the first Loki variant to come through here,” he responds. Before, when he’d been questioning Loki, everything about his posture had been straight and precise; now that the interrogation is over, Mobius has adopted a much more casual stance, leaning against the back of his chair with his legs slightly outstretched. “There’ve been a lot.”

“How many is a lot?” Loki’s mind is still spinning from the revelation that the rogue variant they’re hunting is another version of himself, but the idea of even more being out there just makes him feel slightly ill. There would be a crisis here, were Loki in a clearer headspace - something about how it could be possible for more than one version of himself to exist, and if those versions existed, what proof does he have that he, himself, in this moment, also exists? How does he know he is the real Loki? Is there a real Loki?

Apparently, he is in a clear enough headspace for a minor crisis. He wraps his hands around the mug, waiting for Mobius to answer.

“I don’t know,” is all Mobius says. “I’ve lost count, to be perfectly honest with you. You’re like a bad penny, you know - you just keep turning up. You’re a stubborn bastard, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you.” Loki’s tone is icy. “So if there are so many other variants, why not prune me? What do you think I can do for you that they couldn’t?”

Mobius looks thoughtful for a moment before he shrugs. “Call it a hunch, I guess.”

Wonderful. Loki’s entire existence rests on this bureaucrat of a man’s hunch. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t find that particularly reassuring,” he counters. “How do I know you won’t simply prune me either once we find this other variant, or once I stop being useful to you?”

“What, whichever comes first?” Mobius’s lips tilt slightly upward. “I suppose you don’t.”

Loki slumps a bit in his chair. He’s still holding onto the mug and, for lack of anything else to do, brings it back to his lips. Chamomile, Mobius had called it. It tastes like honey, with just the slightest tinge of apples, and it makes Loki think of the fruit in Idunn’s orchard, how they melted on his tongue like sugar. He remembers dewy summer evenings, laying in the grass with Thor, each of them with a golden apple’s sticky sweetness coating their lips and teeth.

The back of his throat tightens and he focuses on the tea, blinking hard against the sudden sting of tears. Crying in front of Mobius is not something he wants to make a habit of.

Still - “In the desert, when your hunters set off those reset chargers …”

“They pruned the alternate timeline you created when you took off with the tesseract, yeah.” Mobius adjusts his position, straightening up and leaning forward, elbows on the table. “You - that is, the you that’s supposed to exist - never escaped. Your brother took you back to Asgard.”

“And the sacred timeline continues as it should.” The twisting in Loki’s stomach worsens, and it has nothing to do with hunger. “Which means I can never return to Asgard, because he’s already there.”

Mobius’s forehead creases a bit as he nods. He looks almost sympathetic. “You don’t have a place there, no,” he agrees.

A heavy silence falls over them. Loki doesn’t need Mobius to spell it out any further. Loki, the Loki he is right now, will never see Thor again. Nor his mother, or even Odin … but mostly, not Thor. His brother is the worst kind of gone, because he’s not dead, nor lost. He exists on the sacred timeline, forever separated from Loki, and none the wiser to Loki’s absence. He’ll never know that Loki is gone, because the correct Loki is still right where he should be - rotting in Asgard’s dungeons, perhaps, but home all the same.

Rage wells up inside of him, swift and cutting. He pushes away from the table and jumps to his feet so abruptly that even Mobius startles, but before he can do anything, Loki has hurled the red mug against the wall and it shatters, tea and glass shards clattering to the floor. “It isn’t fair,” he snarls; he pushes his hands through his hair, yanking hard at the strands yet the sting of it barely even registers. "That's not fair."

“Loki -”

Loki barely hears him. He drops his hands and clenches his fists; the rage is pressing against his throat, desperate for escape. He wants to scream. He wants to hurl magic in every direction. He truly wants to burn this place to the ground - the TVA, the timekeepers, and every person within it who is complicit in taking away entire realities with hardly a thought spared to the variants left behind.

He’s breathing hard. The trouble is, all of that anger has nowhere to go. Loki cannot bring himself to explode the way he wants to - with neither his magic nor the ability to set fire to the timekeepers’ hearts here and now, the only other option he’s got is to throw things, and he’s hurled enough chairs for today.

Closing his eyes, Loki turns in a circle, grabbing the back of his chair. Instead of throwing it, he leans forward, pressing all of his weight against it because he isn’t sure he can hold himself up. The effort it takes to keep from screaming is leaving him light-headed. Not Thor. Please, please don’t take Thor from me.

“Loki,” Mobius says again. Loki draws in a breath and lets it out slowly, and then opens his eyes and looks up. Mobius is hovering over him, but somehow he’s less dominating than he’d been before. He seems almost concerned - either that, or just plain tired. “Look, I get it. I get that you’re upset, but -”

“How?” Loki demands. His voice is hardly more than a growl. “The timekeepers made you. You’ve never lost anyone. You’ve never known anything besides this … this nightmare.” Frustrated, he pushes away from the chair and gestures broadly at the room around them. “Don’t tell me you get it.”

Mobius sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re right,” he agrees, “I suppose I don’t get it. But I can’t change what you’ve lost, either. All I can do is -”

“I know,” Loki cuts him off, and now he is the one who feels just plain tired. Just as swiftly as the rage had crashed over him, it was now receding again, leaving Loki feeling drained and so, so exhausted. “All you can do is offer me opportunity.” Not salvation. Not anything useful.

Instead of replying, Mobius just puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Why don’t we start fresh tomorrow,” he suggests. “Okay? ‘Cause I can also offer you your benefits package, if you’re interested. Involves a hot meal and a place to sleep.” His lips quirk a little. “No offense, but you look like you could use both, like, yesterday.”

Loki eyes the other man. Mobius’s features blur a bit, and he realizes it’s because his eyes have welled up. He rubs them and then sighs and nods, giving in because what else is he to do? This is what he has been reduced to - powerless, with nowhere else to go, his entire existence contingent upon getting in - and staying in - Mobius’s good graces.

He’ll start with a hot meal.

#charlotte writes #follower celebration prompt series #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #loki tv series spoilers #mobius dick #loki + mobius (platonic)#validatemepls #NOW i am going to go watch the finale #wish me luck

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natrogersfics · 3 years

Text

After All - Chapter 5/5

Cover art by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

Natasha’s always prided herself in being a master at regulating her emotions. Years of field experience as a journalist has allowed her to hone the skill of taking a step back, drawing in a deep breath, and powering through the job. For regardless of how she personally felt about the matter at hand or how much she despised the person she was interviewing, the objective was to report the unadulterated facts. Right now, though, as she stands in Isabel’s room watching as Loki finishes suturing Isabel’s brow while Steve – who had to step in her place as Loki injected the anesthetic – holds her still, it’s as if her training cannot meet the moment.

Motherhood has transformed her in many ways, but one of the most notable changes is that she’s become a constant worrier. Some days the worry is dull, manageable – propelled by something as simple as whether or not Isabel’s had enough water to drink for the day. Nevertheless, the feeling is always underlying. But there are moments where such is its intensity that breathing becomes arduous, and in spite of the fact that Isabel’s cries have since tapered, she finds that this is one of those times.

“Okay,” Loki says in that saccharine tone she only ever hears him use when addressing Isabel. “That’s a wrap on these pesky needles.” He leans forward, tapping Isabel on the nose and eliciting a tired smile from the little girl. “Good job, Miss Isabel. My best patient without question.”

“She’s going to be okay, right?” Steve asks before she can, and she notes how tight his voice sounds as Isabel turns in his arms and snuggles into the crook of his neck.

“Yes, she will be,” Loki says without a hint of reluctance as he nods at Steve before turning to where she’s standing by the door. “Her reflexes are fine, and she isn’t exhibiting any signs of a concussion. Battle wound notwithstanding, she’s alright.”

The sigh she lets out at Loki’s words is loaded with relief. But the sensation is fleeting, replaced quickly by surprise when she hears Steve speak again. “Thank you, Loki.”

Loki nods once more, a little smile on his face as he balls up the remaining gauze and sutures and throws it into the bin. “The little one should get some rest, so I’ll see myself out,” he says, rising from his seat with his kit in his hands. “I’ll check up on her again in the morning.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she says, stealing a glance to where Steve is rocking Isabel to sleep before stepping out into the hall.

The living room is empty as they make it out, and as she and Loki silently walk towards the direction of her foyer, she catches sight of the note on her dining table with T’Challa’s familiar handwriting. While she feels terribly about having ruined their Christmas Eve, a part of her is glad that she does not have to face them too right at this moment. She lets out a sigh for what seems to be the millionth time in the last hour, turning back to Loki just as they reach her front door.

“Quite an evening, huh?” Loki says, smirking.

In spite of his attempt at humor, she finds that she can only look down. “Loki…” she says. “I-”

“She’s going to be okay, Nat,” Loki says, placing a hand on her arm.

“No, I know.” She looks up at him to find his eyebrows knitted together in question. “I trust you,” she says in clarification. “I trust your assessment. What I meant to say is I’m sorry. I’m sorry for tonight and for how Steve acted when you were just trying to help. I don’t know what happened.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Loki chuckles quietly, a soft smile forming on his lips when she only stares blankly at him in response. “Is this love, Miss Romanoff?” he asks. “Because it sure looks a lot like it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, practically scoffing. Loki arches a brow at her, and she sighs. “If tonight's any indication-”

“If tonight's any indication, it’s that there’s obviously a lot that’s been left unsaid,” Loki finishes, shaking his head. “Natasha, my darling, forgive me if I sound like a broken record at this point. But you’re truly one of the brightest people I have had the pleasure of knowing, rivaling perhaps only my own mother for the top spot, so I know it’s only a matter of time.” He reaches to cup her face, running his thumb along her cheekbone. “Open your eyes and listen. For all our sakes.”

“Loki…” she whispers, holding his gaze.

With a smile, Loki leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Merry Christmas, Nat.”

“Merry Christmas,” she repeats, mustering a smile as he turns and leaves.

As the door closes behind him, she pads back to the living room, making it as far as the couch until her legs feel too heavy to make it a step further. She sits down, putting her head in her hands as her shoulders sag with fatigue from the last few days. How a night that started out on such a high note devolved so quickly, she can’t begin to process. But if she knows one thing, it’s that she can’t take much more of this.

“Natasha.”

She looks up at the sound of her name to see Steve standing where the hallway and the living room meet. “Is she asleep?”

“Yes,” he says, moving closer to her. “Nat-”

“Do you know that Izzie has trouble sleeping?” she interrupts, rising to her feet to see him stopped in his tracks. He blinks in surprise, and she nods. “Yeah, there are nights when she’s practically inconsolable… That is until I play her a video with the two of you.” She chuckles humorlessly. “At first I thought it was just a coincidence. And admittedly, there’s a tiny part of me that was wishing that maybe by the time I cave and reach for my phone, that she’s already tired herself out enough to go to sleep. But then I realized that she hasn’t had an episode since you arrived.” She sighs, looking him right in the eyes. “She’s your daughter. I know that. God, if I don’t see that in every little thing she does, every single day. And if there’s ever a time that I made you feel like that wasn’t the case, I am so deeply sorry. That was never my intention. But this?” She shakes her head. “I’m incredibly exhausted, Steve. And not just from tonight. All these years, all I’ve been doing is adjusting to what you want-”

“Excuse me?” he practically spits out, his eyes wide. “What I want?”

“Yes, what you want!” she volleys back bitterly. “You wanted a no-strings-attached arrangement, you got it. Wanted in on our daughter’s life? Check. You wanted to come here for Christmas? I said fine.” She straightens her shoulders, raising her chin. “So, tell me, Steve. What exactly is your problem this time? Because I want this to work, but I am at the end of my rope here.” She sighs, her voice falling to a whisper. “I have nothing left to give you.”

“Nothing left to give me,” he mouths the words, incredulous. “Natasha, all I’ve ever wanted was for you to give me a chance!”

She scoffs. “You’ve had several years’ worth of chances to take, Steve, and I’ve been waiting just as long for even the faintest sign that you wanted one!”

“How was I supposed to know that when all you do is walk away?” he challenges. His words bring her to a pause, and as she stands frozen in place, all she can do is blink. He sighs. “Natasha, I thought everything was going well until that morning in my apartment-”

“Don’t you dare!” she says, throwing her hands out in frustration as she cuts him off. “I woke up to find your ex-fiancée thanking you for selling her back the house you bought together. The very same house that you told me you saw yourself raising a family in. What did you want me to do? Wait around for you to break the news to me when it was clearly standing right at your front door?”

“I wanted you to let me explain!” he says. “Because if you did, then I would have told you that I didn’t sell the house back to Sharon because I didn’t love you and didn’t see a life with you. I did it because I did!” He pauses, sucking in a breath to compose himself. “I didn’t want us to start a life together in a place that I wanted for all the wrong reasons.” He shrugs, defeated. “But then you were serving me a custody agreement so fast my head spun, and then there you were taking the job here before I even had time to recover.”

“I asked you if I had a reason to stay,” she says quietly.

“You did,” he concedes with a nod. “And I should have been brave enough to tell you that you did.” He sighs. “But that doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Because you’ve moved on.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Moved on?”

“Yeah, Nat,” he says. “And you’re damn good at it, too. All you keep doing is moving on, it seems. You’re over me, over us, over New York. And then you’re here, moving on with him-”

“Wait, what?” she interjects.

“Loki,” he says simply, exasperation seeping into his tone. “Look, I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting, but- are you laughing?” His head tilts to the side, and as her laughter escalates, he looks at her like she’s lost her mind. “You’re laughing right now?”

“That’s what this is about?” she says, nearly breathless. “That’s the reason you’ve been acting like a crazy person these last two days?”

“I…” he trails, his forehead wrinkling. “Nat, he has a key to your flat, he’s in your kitchen... He calls you darling.” He scoffs. “I mean, Izzie practically rushes into his arms every time she sees him! And I don’t know how far into your relationship you two are- I mean, I can assume, I suppose. But even if he hasn’t told you, as the world’s leading expert on what it’s like to be in love with you, I’m telling you right now that he is.” His eyes are full of sincerity as he looks at her. “You’re you, Nat. It’s outrageously hard not to love you. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

The fog clears, taking with it all the questions and the doubt that’s plagued her in the last couple of years almost instantly as she stares at him and takes in his words. “Okay,” she says, chuckling as she rubs the back of her neck. “Steve, I’m alone. A lot. Yes, I have Izzie. But after a while, there’s only so much you can talk to a toddler about.” She pauses, and he nods silently in agreement. “And quite frankly, between parenting and working, I don’t get around much, so I don’t have that many friends here. T’Challa? Nakia? They’re out of town, travelling for the paper, as they should be. I see Pepper, what? Once a month if we’re lucky?” She sighs. “Loki’s the only person I can talk to these days because he lives next door and works weird hours. Heck, the only reason we even started talking was because I saw that he liked the same wine and I found out that we agree that men can be the absolute worst-”

“Natasha, I get it,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “And I’m so glad you’ve had someone to talk to. That you’ve found a confidante-”

“Yeah…” she says, raising a brow. “Because it really gets rough out here when men only seem to break our” – she makes sure to emphasize the last word, watching his reaction carefully – “hearts.”

“Right, I know,” he says. “He put you back together when all I did was hurt you. And while I’m devastated to have missed out on the chance to be with you, because I am still, and have always been insanely in love with you, I really do get it. I do. Loki’s a great guy. He’s dreamy, and for crying out loud, he saves babies! And fig loves him. I know that. I’ve accepted it. And the accent…”

“For God’s sake, Rogers,” she mutters, crossing the distance between them. He’s still ranting when she makes it to him, cupping his face in her hands as she pulls him down to her. He groans in surprise when her lips meet his, but just as he begins to respond to her kiss, she pulls away. “Loki’s gay, Steve.”

For a moment, he only stares at her, lust and confusion swirling in his blue orbs all at once. “Oh…” he says, blinking. His brows furrow as he parts his lips as if to say something, only to press them back into a line. “Oh.”

She bites back a smile. “Yeah… the guy he was seeing broke up with him around the same time Izzie and I moved here.”

“Well, that guy’s dumb…” he mumbles, cringing as he adds, “not unlike me.” His eyes are wide as he turns to her, his expression sheepish. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because that’s not really my information to share,” she points out, to which he nods in concession. “Plus, how was I supposed to know that you wanted to be together too?”

“Too?” he clarifies. “So, I’m not too late?”

“Oh, my God,” she says indignantly. She steps closer to him once more, clutching the collar of his sweater in her hands as she looks right into his eyes. “I am still, and have always been, insanely in love with you too, you big oaf! I-”

Her words are cut off when he lowers his head to slant his lips over hers, his hands falling to her hips to pull her flush to him. Whereas their first kiss had been chaste, this one is hungry, needy – quickly growing teeth and making her head spin in no time at all when she tastes the combination of wine and something wholly and distinctly Steve. She snakes her arms around his neck, rising onto the tips of her toes to card her fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. He moans her name longingly at that, and she smiles at the way his lips chase hers when she pulls away momentarily, a teasing comment already making its way to the tip of her tongue. But before she can say it, he bends at the knees, scooping her into his arms as he captures her lips in another searing kiss. Then like a practiced dance, she wraps her legs around his waist, letting him walk them down the hall and into her bedroom.

The second he walks in, she sets her feet down, placing her hands flat on his chest and pushing him towards the bed. He falls back onto it, a laugh escaping him as he bounces slightly, but it lasts but a second as she straddles his lap and her lips find his again.

“Natasha,” he says breathlessly between kisses, his hands covering hers as they find their way under his sweater. “Nat, wait-”

“It’s fine,” she says, guiding his hand up her arm and pressing down to let him feel where her implant is as she continues to kiss a trail down his jaw and to his neck. “I’m safe, and there hasn’t been anyone since you.”

The groan he lets out in response is almost pained, and she gasps in surprise when he flips them over, his pupils blown wide as he stares down at her. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Me?” she asks, flummoxed. “You’re the one flying here, showing up in your stupid leather jacket and then parading around my flat without a shirt on!” Her eyes narrow. “Do you have any idea how many cold showers I’ve taken in the last few days?”

His mouth twists into an amused grin. “I told you, Izzie ruined my shirt,” he says, reaching up to brush the hair out of her eyes. “And for the record, there hasn’t been anyone since you, either.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” she asks, desperation slipping into her tone as she squirms underneath him. “Less talking, more stripping!”

He chuckles, and in spite of her patience waning, she finds herself grinning at the sound. “You, Natasha Romanoff, would test the patience of a saint.”

“Did you get canonized recently or something?” she asks, huffing out a breath when he rolls his eyes at her. “Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”

“I know, baby,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her again. “And you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He shakes his head. “How much I want you.” Even as his eyes have grown dark and stormy, the pining in them is as clear as day, making the blood sing in her veins. “But I don’t want to rush this, Nat. I want to start over. I want-” He pauses, taking in a deep breath. “I need to get this right.”

“But it is right.” She moves to sit up, prompting him to sit back on his knees. “Steve, I thought that everything that happened between us was proof that we were a mistake, that everything I’ve been holding onto was a lie.” He looks down at his lap, his expression twisting as if he’s reliving the pain of the last couple of years all over again. “Hey, look at me,” she says, reaching over to hook a finger under his chin, tilting his head up. “I was wrong.” She shakes her head. “The last twenty-four hours notwithstanding, I haven’t been as happy as I’ve been these last few days in a long, long time. I won’t speak for you, but-”

“It’s the same for me,” he interrupts without a trace of hesitation in his voice, holding her gaze. “Exactly the same, Nat.”

She smiles. “Then if there’s something I know for sure now, it’s that you, me… fig. It’s right. It’s always been right.” She sighs, running her thumb over his jawline. “I love you, Steve. I want to be with you. So please, no more waiting. No more wasting time.”

It takes a beat, but then he’s surging forward to kiss her, pushing her onto her back once more as her arms wrap around his neck. “I love you,” he whispers against her lips. “I love you so damn much.”

“Then show me,” she says, smiling when with a groan, he pulls away and lets his hands trail to the hem of her blouse, pulling it up and off of her. She leans up on her elbows as he sits back again, letting her gaze trail hungrily down his chest and to the smooth planes of his stomach as he reaches behind him to rid himself of his sweater.

“See something you like?” he asks, smirking when he catches her staring.

She peers up at him from underneath her lashes. “More like something I need.”

“Good,” he says, causing the breath to get caught in her throat at the way his eyes flash. “So do I.”

He brings his lips back to hers, reaching behind her to undo the clasp of her bra, and she slides it off her arms when it comes loose around her before throwing it unceremoniously to the floor. Gently, he pushes her shoulder, guiding her back down as he peppers kisses down the column of her throat and lets his hands wander over her torso. He cups the swell of her breast, ghosting a thumb over her nipple, and she feels him smile against her skin at the gasp that slips from her lips.

“Steve.” She sighs his name brokenly when his mouth moves from her neck to her sternum, worshipping every inch of skin it finds in its trail. It’s when his lips hover past her navel, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her leggings that she places her hands over his, keeping them in place.

He moves back up her body to look her in the eyes. “Let me,” he says the same time she tells him he does not have to, and as she blinks up at him, chest heaving, he smiles softly. “Can I, Nat?”

There’s an undercurrent of desperation in the way he asks the question, as if he needs this – craves this – and despite how much she aches to feel him against her, to have his skin against hers, when she takes in the unadulterated desire in his eyes, she finds herself powerless to do anything but nod. She lets go of his hands, biting her lip in anticipation as he moves back down her body. Cool air skims over her newly exposed skin as he pulls her leggings down along with her panties, making her shiver as her heart picks up in her chest, and she gasps when he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh, propping one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Steve,” she moans loudly – wantonly – into the darkness of the room when he licks up her center. Her head falls to the side, her hands scrambling for purchase on the duvet as a litany of curses slip from her lips, and that’s all he needs to hear to bring his hands to her waist, holding her still as he flicks his tongue against her bundle of nerves. The sensation that pulses through her is almost too much too fast, but her body craves it all the same, and she bites her lip to keep from laughing out. It’s pathetic that he has her teetering off the edge this quickly, this suddenly, but at the same time, she’s not surprised. He learned her body long ago, and she’s infinitely glad that in spite of the time that’s passed since they’ve last been together like this, he still knows it like the back of his hand. It’s when he pushes two fingers into her, curling them as they work in tandem with his tongue that she finally keens, her vision a white-hot blur as she calls out his name.

“Hi,” he whispers when she finally opens her eyes moments later, her heart still ringing in her ears. “You still with me?” His lips turn up in a boyish smile when she nods. “Good.”

He pulls away from her, and despite her first orgasm still coursing hotly through her veins, she whines at the loss of contact. “Steve.”

“I’m here, Nat,” he says, returning to bracket her body with his own after making short work of his pants. When she attempts to pull him down to her, he chuckles. “Remind me again where Izzie got her impatience from?”

“Want you,” she says, ignoring his quip and not caring one bit about how desperate her tone has gotten. “Want you now.” He smiles, but it’s quickly replaced by a groan when she reaches between them, wrapping a hand around his length.

“Fuck,” he all but growls, his eyes slamming shut as she begins to pump her hand up and then down. “Natasha.”

“Please,” she says, her breath hot against his ear, and that’s all she has to say to make him shift his weight onto his forearms as she guides him to her entrance, hissing when he brushes up against her. A gasp falls from her lips, her toes curling into the sheets as he begins to sink into her, inch by inch, and it isn’t until he’s bottomed out that she realizes how much she’s missed this feeling – how much she’s missed him. He leans down, brushing her lips with his own, and making her crave the friction that much more. “Steve,” she calls out, digging her nails into his back. He looks down at her, his jaw clenched, and only then does it dawn on her that he’s stilled for her benefit. “It’s okay,” she promises as his eyes search hers for affirmation. She smiles. “Move, baby.”

With a nod, he begins to roll his hips, drawing out a mewl from her as his lips find her collarbone. She knows there’ll be marks tomorrow, but she can’t bring herself to care. The lazy snap of his hips coupled with the warmth of his mouth on her skin as he nips and teases is addictive, dizzying, and she wants more. She needs more. With that, she wraps her legs around his waist, pushing the heels of her feet into his lower back, encouraging him to go deeper, faster. He groans, the last of his restraint seemingly crumbling when he intertwines their fingers and pins their hands above her head, picking up the pace and making her gasp at the delicious shift in angle.

Pleasure curls in her gut in no time at all, coiling tightly, and it isn’t until he’s shushing her gently that she realizes her moans have grown louder. “I’ve got you,” he says, whispering the words and other sweet nothings into her lips again and again. “I’ve got you, Nat. With me, okay?”

She manages a nod, catching the smile that forms on his lips. And then he’s slipping a hand down between them, making her back bow off the mattress as he thumbs at her bundle of nerves. Her belly clenches as pleasure pulses rapidly through every synapse, every nerve, and though she could feel it coming, a surprised gasp still slips from her lips when her orgasm washes over her, stealing the air right out of her lungs. He kisses her as she tumbles over the edge, pushing into her once, twice, and then with a grunt, he goes still, following her right into the abyss.

Quiet settles over them, their labored breathing the only sound as they come down from their highs. Her body hasn’t completely stopped trembling when he pulls out of her, eliciting a whimper from her as he brushes against her still sensitive flesh, and he kisses her temple consolingly as he shifts onto his back and pulls her to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says later on when their breathing comes back to normal. She lifts her head off his chest to look at him, her eyebrows knitting when she finds his eyes filled with contrition. He sighs. “I’m sorry for not fighting for you… for us, sooner.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “We’ve both made mistakes.” She reaches up to push the hair out of his forehead. “I’m sorry for assuming… well, everything. And for not giving you a chance to explain.”

He takes her hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss the inside of her wrist. “Any chance there’s still one in those years’ worth of chances that’s still up for grabs?”

She smiles. “I think so.”

She’s warm. That’s the first thing that comes to Natasha’s mind when she stirs awake, her eyes blinking as they adjust to the pale morning light. But as her vision focuses, she realizes the warmth she’s feeling has less to do with the comforter she’s cocooned in and more with the arm draped over her waist. She turns to her other side to see Steve, his outrageously long lashes fanned out against his cheeks as he sleeps, and as memories of the last few hours come flooding back to her, she smiles.

It was past midnight when they finally found the wherewithal to clean the remnants of the feast she prepared, sharing a plate of leftovers and a few glasses of wine as they transferred the food into containers and loaded the dishwasher. They’d even gotten around to wrapping the last of Isabel’s Christmas presents, laying them neatly under the tree before finding themselves a tangled mess of limbs on her bed again, taking their sweet time this time around to get reacquainted with one another. After, they’d spent the rest of the night talking, laughing, and though they’d spent many nights like this in the past, this time felt significantly different. They still had so much to discuss, but with all their cards on the table, it’s as if their conversations – their plans – finally had a shot at permanence, a chance to become reality, and it would be a lie to say that the idea didn’t make her heart absolutely sing.

“You’re staring.”

Steve’s voice interrupts her musing, and she chuckles when she looks to find his eyes already open. “Some people find that romantic, you know.”

“In movies, maybe,” he says through a yawn. “But in real life, it’s just creepy.” She glares at him, giving his chest a shove, and he grins sleepily as he pulls her in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Natasha Romanoff.”

“Merry Christmas,” she whispers back, beaming.

He brings a hand to her hip, rubbing circles into her skin with his thumb. “You okay?”

The question causes her to bite her lip, stifling a smirk. It’s not as if last night was their first time – one need not look further than their daughter sleeping down the hall for proof – and yet, it was such a Steve thing to ask. She smiles. “Never better.”

Had it been any other morning, she might have called him out on the smug smile that crosses his lips, but she decides that today, she’ll let him have it. “So, tell me,” he says. “At what point in the last six months did you become a morning person?”

“It’s cute that you think your daughter let me have a say in the matter,” she deadpans, reaching up to cup his face and letting out a contented sigh. “And I’m just happy.”

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling her over him until she’s straddling his hips. “How happy?”

“I think…” she says, biting her lip as she leans down to whisper in his ear, “I’d rather show you than tell you.” He raises a curious brow at her as she pulls away, watching her carefully as she kisses her way down his neck, and she smiles when she feels his skin prickle under her lips.

“Hi!”

They both freeze at the greeting, sharing a wide-eyed stare with each other before turning to see Isabel watching them by the doorway, her stuffed Corgi in hand. “Oh, my God, Izzie,” she says, quickly grabbing her robe that’s dangling on the bedpost and wrapping it around herself. She hops off the bed, managing to throw Steve his boxers before she makes it to Isabel, bending down to pick her up. “How did you get out of your crib, babe?”

Isabel’s only response is to laugh, waving over her shoulder. “Hi, Dada!”

She turns just as Steve emerges from under the comforter. “Hi, fig.”

“You good over there?” she asks, biting back a smile.

He shoots her a withering look as she makes her way back to the bed. “Come here, you little escape artist,” he says, reaching for Isabel and making her giggle as he smothers her with kisses. “What did we say about climbing things?”

“Pwe-sents!” Isabel says, smiling widely.

He chuckles, turning to her just as she settles down next to him, leaning back against the headboard. “Do you want to have breakfast first?”

“No,” Isabel answers before she can get a word in, prompting them both to shake their head in amusement.

“In case you haven’t noticed, she’s kind of the boss around here” she says, smirking.

He laughs. “Presents it is.”

The floor of her living room is a sea of torn up wrapper and discarded ribbon, but as she brings her mug of hot chocolate to her lips, she finds that she couldn’t care less about the sprawling mess as she watches Steve help Isabel rip open her presents. For her part, she’s dutifully played photographer, cataloguing Isabel’s reaction to each gift – as requested by the competitive bunch of aunts, uncles, and grandparents all hellbent on one-upping each other.

“Last one, Iz,” Steve says, handing her a rectangular box.

“What is it?” she prompts excitedly as she puts her mug down to hold the camera back up, capturing the moment Isabel gets the last of the wrapper off and pulls the item out.

“Hat!” Isabel says, turning in Steve’s lap to show him.

“Close,” Steve says, nearly chuckling at the way Isabel’s brows furrow in dismay at his response. “It’s called a beanie. Though it’s just not any other beanie.” He looks her way as he adds, “It’s a beanie uncle Buck chose.”

The laugh slips freely from her lips. “Oh no!”

“Oh yes,” he confirms, his fingers feeling for something in the fabric. “Tada!”

“Wow!” Isabel exclaims, her big blue eyes filling with elation as the antlers on the Reindeer beanie light up, the array of colorful lights twinkling brightly. “Am-a-zing!”

“You hear that?” Steve asks, shooting her a smile. “It’s am-a-zing!” He turns to Isabel, pointing at the camera. “Say, thank you, Uncle Buck.”

“Thanks Buck!” Isabel says.

She chuckles as she cuts the video and rises to her feet. “I hope you still think it’s am-a-zing when she wants to go out in public with that thing,” she tells him in a sing-song voice as she opens up a trash bag and begins to collect the discarded wrapper.

“You mock the beanie now,” he says, standing when Isabel runs off to play with her new mountain of toys. “But when she runs off and the lights make her easy to spot, you might be singing a different tune.”

“The faith you have in our daughter keeping something on her head for more than five minutes is inspirational,” she says, turning to see him grab more wrapper off the floor. “Truly, it is.” She laughs as he rolls his eyes, slipping the bunch he has in his hand into the bag she’s holding as he comes to stand in front of her. “Is that everything?”

“As far as the wrapper’s concerned, yes,” he says, smiling as he produces a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “But you still haven’t opened this.”

Her eyebrows furrow as she takes the paper from him. “Who’s this from?”

“Me,” he says simply.

“Steve.” His name falls from her lips like a chastisement, and she can only sigh when his response is to encourage her to open it. “Well, now I feel bad,” she says as her fingers work to unfold the paper. “I got you that gift from the aquarium to be funny and then you got me that book, and now…” Her words trail off as she opens the paper all the way, her eyes scanning over what’s scrawled out on it:

Will you go out on a date with me?

“I meant what I said about starting over,” he says when she looks up. “Or, at least, doing the parts we skipped.” His lips twist into a smile. “And I figured since contracts seem to be our thing, maybe you’d say yes if I asked you in writing.”

“You’re kidding, right?” she asks even as her lips turn up in amusement.

“I’m completely serious,” he says, shrugging at the incredulous stare she sends his way. “We could get dressed up, go to dinner and a movie…” He wiggles his eyebrows as he adds, “maybe even make out in the back of the theater.” She snorts at that last bit, and he smiles. “What do you say?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?” she says, her expression growing serious. “But Steve, usually, a guy asks a girl out before she has his baby.”

When she smiles, he throws his head back, laughing. “Okay, well, usually a girl agrees to go out with a guy before she asks him to have a baby with her, so I guess we’re not really into chronology here.” He smirks as she narrows his eyes playfully at him. “Besides, your manufactured indignation would be a lot more convincing if you didn’t practically jump my bones last night.”

She gasps at that, stealing a quick glance over at Isabel to make sure she’s not listening before looking back at him, lowering her voice. “Oh, fuck you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, a glint in his eyes as he pulls her to him. “Is that not what you were doing last night?”

“Whatever,” she says, unable to keep a smile from forming on her lips. “Fine. Yes, I will go out on a date with you.” His eyes light up at that, and she holds a finger up. “But if you give me another note at the end asking me to go steady, I’m leaving.”

He beams. “Yes, ma’am.”

She rises to the tips of her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck as his mouth finds hers for what feels like the millionth time this morning. The taste of his lips mingled with the hot chocolate they were sipping on is a heavy combination, and she lets out a happy sigh into their kiss when his hands curl around her waist, his thumb brushing against the patch of skin left exposed between her shirt and her pajamas. She nips at his bottom lip, making him groan, and it’s only when they hear someone clearing their throat that they pull away and she moves to look behind Steve.

“Sorry,” Loki says from where he leans by the doorway of her living room, his arms crossed over his chest as he grins from ear to ear. “I only came to check on the little one. I swear I knocked, but um…”

She bites her bottom lip just as Steve turns as well, but before she can say anything, Isabel is already up and running. “Yo-ki!”

“Well, hello there,” Loki says, picking Isabel up. “Someone’s chipper on this Christmas morning, I see. I’ve come to check on your stitches, which I tried to tell your Mum and Dad” – he turns back to them, smirking – “but they were busy.”

“Stitches, right,” she says a little too loudly, pointing towards the couch to hide her blush. “After you, Doc.”

Loki asks them a few of routine questions about Isabel as he sets his medical kit down on the coffee table, and as she and Steve take turns answering them and sharing their observations, she realizes that it’s nice to know that someone else was quietly sharing her worries throughout the night, picking up on the little things she was finding as well. They go silent as Loki begins to examine Isabel, checking her reflexes and changing the bandage covering her stitches.

“Okay,” Loki says, finally breaking the tense silence that had fallen over them. “This sweetheart is free to play with all her Christmas goodies.”

“Yeah?” she says. “Everything looks good?”

“Everything’s just splendid,” Loki says, turning to her and Steve as he helps Isabel off the couch. He drops the flashlight into his kit, zipping it up. “She’s not exhibiting any signs of a concussion and her stitches are healing up well and should dissolve on their own fairly soon.”

“Thank God,” Steve says, relief thick in his voice, and she finds herself nodding along to the sentiment.

“Thank you for coming to check on her,” she tells Loki, who only smiles in return. “I owe you one.”

“As do I,” Steve adds. “Any chance we could start the repayment with some breakfast?”

“I appreciate the offer, but actually the reason I came by early is because I’m on my way to my mother’s,” Loki says, smiling as he nods towards the both of them. “It’s nice to see you two have patched things up, though.”

“Yeah, about that,” Steve says. “Loki, I’m sorry for my behavior last night. There’s no excuse. I was an ass.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” Loki says, waving off his apology.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s not. I-”

“He thought you and I were together,” she blurts out suddenly, smiling when Steve’s eyes widen, a sheepish expression breaking out on his face.

“Well, that explains a lot,” Loki says, grinning graciously as his gaze goes from her to Steve. “In any case, I’m flattered that you’d consider me a worthy adversary.”

She smirks. “He also thinks you’re dreamy.”

“Does he now?” Loki asks, clearly amused.

“And on that note,” Steve says, turning to glare at her. “I think I hear our daughter calling.”

She and Loki snicker as Steve, ears red, walks away. “You sure you can’t stay?” she asks. “It won’t even take ten minutes to get the waffles going.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Loki says as they begin to make their way towards her front door. “I don’t want to hit traffic and you know my mother will kill me if I so much as have a bite before I come to her home.”

“Tell Frigga I said hello then,” she says as she opens the door, leaning against it.

“Oh, believe me, that’s not the only thing I’ll be telling her,” he says, smirking as he gestures to her collarbone. She looks down, and he laughs as she adjusts the collar of her shirt to hide the mark still there. “Long night, was it?” She shoots him a withering look as he leans down to kiss her cheek, cocking a brow up at her. “I fully expect a detailed play by play when I get back.”

She chuckles, shoving him away playfully. “Get out of here!”

Loki smiles. “I’m happy for you, Nat.”

“Thank you,” she says with a nod. “Merry Christmas.”

With a wink, Loki waves goodbye, and she waits for him to make it down the stairs before shutting the door. She walks back to the living room, stopping just by the threshold to see Steve carrying Isabel as they both peer out the window. She smiles. “What are you two goofs up to?”

“Is ’nowing!” Isabel says, pointing out the window as Steve turns.

“Is it?” she asks as she pads to them, making a show of checking out the window. “It is! Maybe if there’s enough later, we can go outside and try to make Olaf.”

Steve’s brow rises in question. “Who’s Olaf?”

“Glad you asked,” she says at the same time Isabel utters snowman. Steve only stares blankly at them, making her laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll get acquainted with him, Elsa, and Anna... Probably three times before this morning is over, if you’re lucky.”

“Still don’t know who those people are,” he says, pulling her in with his other hand until she’s pressed up against his side. “But I’ll gladly find out if you two introduce me.”

“What’s the saying again?” she muses, looking up teasingly at him. “Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it?”

He grins. “I think I may already have.”

The affection that fills his eyes is so remarkably perspicuous that she wonders how she’s missed it all these years, and as her lips turn up to mirror his smile, she makes a silent vow to never doubt its existence ever again. He leans down, but before his lips can meet hers, Isabel turns in his arms, effectively wedging herself between them.

“Mish-tow!” Isabel says, pointing above them.

They both laugh as they look up, and sure enough, the bundle of mistletoe she had put up yesterday looms above them. She smirks. “You know what that means, right?”

“I think I do,” he says, nodding knowingly as they both turn to Isabel, who’s watching them curiously.

“Fig sandwich!” they both yell as they lean in, pressing a kiss to Isabel’s cheeks and delighting in the way their daughter’s joyous laughter echoes throughout the room.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

#Romanogers #After All #A Little Favor #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #natrogers #fanfic #AU

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imaginesupply · 4 years

Text

Warm me up - Loki x Reader imagine

Alright, so after complaining that no one had yet written a Loki imagine that included cockwarming, I decided to write one myself. Be aware that it’s 2am in Paris, that I haven’t written anything in ages and that English is still not my main language, so please forgive any weird wordings or mistakes you might find in this. I did proofread it, but you know…

I also feel like I messed up Loki’s portrayal?

Includes: Jotun!Loki, mild cursing, mild smut, very minor angst, fluff and ugly pajamas.

Word count: About 2800.

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Waiting impatiently for the elevator to take her to the second highest floor, she clutched the pillow tighter to her chest, trying to stifle a yawn.

Tony had texted her as soon as they'd gotten back from some overly complex mission that wasn't even taking place in this realm - if she'd correctly understood while eavesdropping on the team, that is, given that Loki tried to keep her in the dark most of the time because apparently her life expectancy was already 'frighteningly short' and he refused to do anything that could potentially shorten it even more. There had also been a part about him wanting to get his hands on one of those 'incredibly sneaky Idunn apples’ but she wasn’t sure what that meant.

Maybe he could try learning how to text, that would certainly make her live longer and a lot more stress free, she mused.

Right now, she was just overly excited to see him again for the first time in eight days. Tony had told her Loki was exhausted and had gone straight to bed upon their arrival. She couldn't help but find it a little bit odd - usually he'd go straight to her room five floors below when he came back from a mission, but she tried not to worry too much.

The elevator came to a halt and she was hurrying to his room before the doors had even fully slid open. Her feet slipped on the polished floor, her socks not allowing for much grip but she was sure it was worth the risk of a bruised bum if it meant she'd get to Loki a few seconds earlier.

"Hey fluffy socks!" Tony called after her when she passed him in the kitchen. She had hoped he hadn't seen her since he was staring into the open fridge but apparently Iron Man had eyes on his butt or something.

For a split second, she considered ignoring him but he was her boss after all, and a very generous one at that, allowing her to live in the tower.

"Yes?"

Now that he had her attention, he first drowned his full tumbler of Scotch before actually speaking to her. Couldn't he just say what he had to say?

"Are you going to see Loki?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. Was he seriously asking her that?! Why else would she would she be running in the hallway at 2 in the morning in her pajamas?

"Right, stupid question, sorry. Look, we ran into some unforeseen complications and Loki, well..."

"Was he injured?" She blurted out instantly, eyes wide with fear but to her relief, Tony quickly shook his head.

"Not really. There are no wounds but he had to use a lot of that weird seidr of his to get us out of there and now he - he is... feverish?"

She could hear it in her boss' voice that he was unsure of his own choice of words. A fever? But Loki was an alien God or a Frost Giant or whatever, surely he couldn't get a fever?

"Okay. Thanks for the heads up!" She replied way more cheerfully than she actually felt, hoping Tony wouldn’t stop her if she looked okay.

It was with a sense of dread that she now walked the rest of the way to Loki's room. Once at his door, she was surprised he hadn't locked it and - wait! Was that ice on the handle?

Pushing the door open, she let her pillow fall to the floor as she was met with an unexpected wave of cold that immediately had her chilled to the bones. What the hell? Whispering for FRIDAY to turn on the small night lamp, she was startled by the state she found his room in, but most importantly by what she found on the bed.

Loki was lying in bed, covers drawn up to his chin, only he wasn't in his Æsir form. "Shit!" She cursed in a whisper, stepping on the thin layer of ice that had formed on the floor until she got to his side.

His skin was a deep shade of blue but for the white intricate markings adorning it. Something was very wrong with him, she realized. His Jotun form didn't bother her. To be honest, she actually found him rather attractive like that in a weird alien sort of way. However, she knew Loki wasn't comfortable with that aspect of himself and he'd never revert to his Jotun shape unless he didn't have the strength to keep on his Æsir appearance.

Softly, she lowered her hand to his cheek only to hiss in pain as soon as her skin made contact with his. The tip of her finger had turned purple in the split second it had made contact with him. She had almost gotten frostbite just from touching him!

In a panic-induced rush, she hurried over to the control center on the charcoal painted wall and turned the heat to the highest setting. She knew he was colder in his Jotun form, but not that cold. She had touched him like this before, but she had found his lower temperature refreshing, causing her nothing more than a pleasant shiver.

The next step was the en-suite bathroom where she dropped some rags into the hottest water that would come out from the tab, and put some towels to warm up by the heater.

Humans were warm blooded but you had to cool them down when they had a fever. So, by analogy, Frost Giants being cold blooded, she had to warm him up, right?

In truth, she wasn't entirely convinced of her logic but it was the only solution she came up with. Quickly, she walked back into the bedroom, bending down at his side to place some hot rags on his forehead and around his hands.

"Loki?" She whispered worriedly when he didn't open his eyes, but his face remained unchanged, the small frown not leaving his features.

Carefully, she pulled back the covers only to notice he had managed to freeze his clothes solid. Not waiting another moment, she started undressing him which was easier said than done because one, he was still wearing his battle gear; two, although his clothes weren't as cold as his skin, touching them was still painful like holding a frozen snowball in her naked hands and three, he was a lot heavier than you'd expect from his lean body.

With clenched teeth, she managed to get rid of the layers on the top half of his body until she was met with his naked blue torso before unzipping his leather pants and pulling them down with his underwear.

Oh - oh! Well, that's certainly interesting, she couldn't help but lose focus for a second as she saw his Jotun body naked for the first time. I'll definitely keep that in mind next time things are getting frisky and he isn't quite literally freezing to death in front of me. With another hard pull - that drove her backwards with such force, it was a wonder her butt didn't collide with the floor - she managed to get him out of the rest of his frozen clothes.Now, I know why he always uses seidr to undress. Leather is pain to take off!

"Love... is that you?"

Tears of relief slid down her face almost instantly at the sound of his voice. "Yes!" She pretty much shouted before tiptoeing around the bed until she was right at his side. "Yes , Loki, it's me. How do you-?"

"You need to leave," he grunted between clenched teeth, trying to pull himself upright by the strength of his arms but not quite succeeding. "Now!"

She could tell his was trying hard to keep his crimson eyes open as he glared at her, as if hoping it would scare her away.

"I'm not leaving until you feel better," she crooned softly, hesitantly lowering her hand to caress his cheek. It was still way too cold but there was no longer a risk of getting frostbite.

Without a warning, Loki tried swatting her hand away, but his hand movement was much less grateful than habitually. He was actually shivering, she realized.

Resigned after lacking the strength to pry her hand away by force, he closed his eyes tightly, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. "I don't want you to see me like this. So, will you please leave alone or do I have to make you leave?"

He had meant to draw her away by hurting her feelings, but she could see right through him - masking vulnerability with anger. In a sense, he did manage to hurt her feelings as her heart now broke for him. Was he so unused to people actually caring and looking after him?

"If I leave, I'll have to send someone else in to take care of you. It's your call, Loki." His red eyes opened wide at her threat and he immediately shook his head. "See? That wasn't too hard. Now, one more time, how do you feel?"

Loki groaned, obviously uncomfortable by the whole situation. "To use your midgardian slang, I feel like I've been hit by a bus."

She rolled her eyes at him, something she never dared to do when he was in his normal capacity because the only time she had dared to, he had responded by using his seidr to tickle her to tears. "I'm serious."

"Fine! I feel as if my body has been frozen from the inside."

Now that Loki was actually cooperating, she felt like they were getting somewhere. First, she made him drink a full glass of water and asked him if he was hungry but he only rolled his eyes at that. He's still Loki, after all.

The towels she had put over the radiator were now warm enough to drape over his body. Not waiting for his approval because knowing him, he'd play difficult, she pulled back the covers once again so she could wrap the homemade heating pad around his body.

He stared at her, brows furrowed in confusion, as she lifted, first his right shoulder, then his left one, to tuck the towel beneath them. How was she not disgusted by him, he couldn't help but wonder. Not only was he weak right now, but he looked like those monsters children were afraid of. And yet, he couldn't help the sense of warmth that washed over him at knowing that she accepted him whatever his heritage. That was more than he could say about his own father.

She continued with her task, trying to build a warm cocoon around him but she couldn't help herself from tracing some of the intricate silvery markings with her fingertips. A few lines ran from his chest down to his stomach, others only started at the level of his belly button and had more a twirl to them, leading straight to his -

"Oh, someone is happy, it seems," she chuckled when she noticed his erection standing proudly despite the cold. It actually appeared to be a deeper shade of blue than the rest of him, with a slightly upward curve.

Instead of seeming pointlessly embarrassed by his body's natural reaction, especially given the lack of disgust she had expressed, Loki actually looked rather smug. "Well, someone's is being rather handsy."

She huffed, somehow feeling herself blush as she looked at him. "Well, someone has been trying to help someone else warm up."

"Well, someone knows of other ways you can help someone warm up." Loki used the second that it took her to get his innuendo, to take her by surprise and pull her closer him, until she was pretty much straddling his body.

And then he kissed her. A gasp escaped her as his cold lips made contact with the sensitive skin of hers. It was almost like kissing an ice cube... but an ice cube that tasted of Loki, of mischief, of home. Only when his tongue prodded for entrance, did she realize what they were doing.

Pulling back a little to break the kiss that had her lightly panting as she carefully pushed his shoulders down into the pillow, she was quite certain he let out a little frustrated whine. "We should not be doing this," she admonished them both before sitting back on her butt, accidentally causing some very pleasant friction that had the, both moaning at the sensation. She had to bite her lower lip to keep her resolve, "right now, you are in no state for such activities."

Instead of coming up with a lokiworthy line, she watched as his face took on a focused look before turning into a frown. Was he seriously trying to seidr her clothes away right now?

"That's exactly my point," she couldn't stop her giggle as she bent forward to kiss the tip of his nose. She had always wanted to that but he was too tall and always too fast, managing to turn his face away from her and kissing her cheek instead. A girl has to take the chances that presented themselves to her.

"But I want to be inside of you, to feel your tight warmth around me," Loki drawled, softly thrusting up his hips to prove his point.

She actually whimpered at the contact - needy Loki did things to her, it seemed. Wetting her lips before nodding once, she quickly stepped away from him.

Loki followed her movements with his eyes, the disappointed look in his eyes rapidly turning to excitement when he realized she had only stepped away to discard those ridiculous cat-print pajamas of hers. Despite the radiators being at their highest capacity, her nipples pebbled almost painfully as she resumed her position above him, the chill that emanated from his body still quite noticeable.

Both let out little sounds of pleasure as the friction was now stronger without any fabric acting as a barrier between their bodies. She couldn't help but to grind her hips against his before leaning down to kiss him.

There was a power surge suddenly rising up in her when she realized that - for the first time - Loki was at her mercy. Usually, when she was on top, it was because he let her be on top. And even then, it was him who set the pace.

From his reactions when she traced them with her fingers, she gathered that the silvery lines adorning his skin were particularly sensitive. They also stood out a little, almost like scarifications and the best was that they down there as well. Alright, let's not get ourselves carried away, her inner voice reminded her.

When she slid her hand between their bodies to guide himself inside her warmth, she had to stop herself from grinning at the look on his face - like a Frost Giant boy who had just spotted a bag of candies. If they had candy in Jotunheim, she actually didn't know.

Loki groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his long blue neck to her as she impaled herself on his cock. It was quite a stretch, even more so than in his Æsir form and she felt incredibly full with him inside, the ridges only adding to that sensation. Focus, girl!

At her stillness, Loki impatiently thrust his hips upwards but she was quick to press his body down against the mattress. He looked up at her, confusion written across his face even as his grip tightened on her hips. Surely, she wouldn't do that to him, would she?

She smirked at his reaction even though she wanted this wanted this as much as him. "You only asked to feel my warmth around you," she explained coyly.

His crimson turned a shade darker. "You are a very reasonable person, love, surely you cannot expect me -"

"Shh," she hushed him with her index finger to his lips. "If you are too weak to overpower me, you are too weak for sexy times. For now, I'm going to warm you up. Afterwards, you can do whatever you want with me," she promised just as she felt him twitch inside her. Focus!

Without waiting for his response, she lowered herself until the upper half of her body was lying over his torso and she was cuddled against him.

His muscles gradually relaxed as he came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be able to convince her. Sighing, he nuzzled his nose into her hair. Gosh, she smelled of whatever Valhalla was made of! And if he was honest with himself, being like this was rather comforting, the ability of feeling her everywhere somehow making him forget that a whole world existed beyond the cocoon of her body.

"Fine," he complained a little theatrically, "but I'll hold you to your word."

Within minutes, both were soundly asleep. Not only was it the early hours of the morning, but he had exerted himself more during the mission than he wanted to admit and she never got much sleep when he was away.

Hours later, she found herself being woken up by a rhythmic rocking movement that she would gladly have compared to a calm boat ride if there was the biggest storm in the century and the boat was ramming into her.

With a gasp caused by sudden pleasure, she opened her eyes to find Loki thrusting into her with a mischievous smirk. "It seems your technique got me warmed up in no time, love."

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Of Kings and Beasts - Twelve

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Warnings: Angst, Language, Smut (almost?), Injuries, Violence,

Word Count: 3K

A/n: Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! 18+!!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

Your eyes slowly flutter open, your head throbbing and body aching.

The events prior to your collapse come flooding into your mind and you’re suddenly filled with anxiety.

You push yourself up, wincing as ropes bite into your wrists and a gag scratches the corners of your mouth

You’re bound on a bed, still wearing your cape and gown.

“I was beginning to wonder when you would wake up... if I had been a little too rough with you,” a silky voice says.

You look over to the source, glaring at the man by the window.

Loki only smiles at you, slowly walking towards you.

“You’re far smarter than anyone gives you credit for, do you know that? The Kings think you to be nothing more than a delicate princess, but we both know that’s not true. You had to find your way, make your way. You’ve gone to great lengths just to survive. And that’s where you and I are similar.”

Two long, cold fingers are under your chin, tilting your head back.

“You’re so much more than they think. But they won’t get to know that, will they?” Your eyes widen and you shimmy back, terrified for your life.

The man only laughs, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to kill you, petal. Not yet, anyway. But I cannot say the same for your husbands.” You make a noise through your gag, wanting to only ask him one question.

“You want to know why?” He asks, waiting until you nod before answering.

“Because I have lived in the shadows for far too long. That is something that you and I have in common. We’ve both blossomed in the shadows of other people. But for no longer. It is time for me to take my rightful place as King. King of Asgard. King of Acadia. They will be one under my rule.” Your brows draw together. He means to overthrow not one but two of the strongest kingdoms on the continent.

He opens his mouth to further his explanation, but the door opens and a certain blond-haired beast walks in.

“Ah, yes. I was about to come fetch you,” Loki says, looking over at you and shooting you a wink. You’re still so confused.

“Now, you have your fun with your new wife, while I go divert the attention of her husbands,” Loki says, taking a step back. His appearance changes before your very eyes, and then you’re staring at yourself.

Your lips smile at you, and then your body is walking out of the King’s chambers and closing the door tightly behind.

Thor seems to pay his shape-shifting brother no mind and is instead entirely focused on you.

He slowly approaches the bed, hands extended towards you and you flinch away.

A frown graces his features and he shakes his head, pulling the gag from your mouth.

“I had asked him not to be so rough with you, but he insisted it was necessary. I do hope you’ll forgive me, my love.” You’re taken aback by the name, staring at him in shock.

He chuckles, the sound almost nervous.

“I suppose I should explain myself.” You wait a little less than patiently as the King gathers his thoughts, his eyes darting to you ever now and again.

“You... you are intriguing. You’ve bewitched me, as I said. Captured both my attention and my heart with only a few moments.”

“What in the name of the Gods are you speaking of?” You’re so bloody confused.

“When I first stumbled upon you, I had hoped that you were not in fact the queen. That instead, you were a mere maiden in the Palace. But even finding that you are wed to two of my dear friends... why, it wasn’t enough to stop me from falling for you.” He takes your bound hands in his, thumbs rubbing over your palms. It makes you feel sick to your stomach, and you wrench yourself out of his grip.

“You will not touch me! Not after what you’ve done.” A thought bubbles into your mind and you look up at him. “Loki had called me your new wife... what on Earth does he mean by that?” Thor grins, two fingers stroking your cheek gently while he gazes at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You are to be my wife, (Y/n). And I swear to you that I shall treat you with the respect and the love that you deserve. Your current husbands should be killed for the way they have treated something as delicate as you.” You glare at him, jerking your face away.

“You will not speak of my husbands in such a manner. Your actions are treasonous, and you will bring war upon your kingdom. Why would you do that for me? Why overthrow their kingdom? The greed of men never ceases to disgust me.” He furrows his brows, him being the confused one this time.

“Why would I not go to the ends of the Earth for the woman I love? You have carved a way into my heart, darling, and I would both die for you and kill for you.”

You shake your head vigorously, wanting to cease his speaking.

“How can you claim to love me when you do not even truly know me? You know nothing of me, besides whatever you have created from your own imagination. You do not love me, Thor. Do not try to convince yourself or me that you do.”

He grips your face roughly, eyes alight with fire.

“Do not for a moment think that I am not in love with you.” His voice is booming, frightening even, and for a moment you shrink in on yourself, reduced to that terrified young princess yet again.

He takes a deep breath then lets it out, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I did not mean to frighten you, my love, I just... I love you and I need you to know it, to accept it. You are to be my wife. My queen, and the mother of my children. I know it is not something you are keen on, only due to your loyalty to your first marriage, but that will be fixed over time, I promise. You need only give me a chance. A chance to show you how it feels to truly be loved.”

There's something off about him, his eyes, his smile. But you cannot deny the fact that his offer is tempting. A chance to not live in fear? To be treated with respect and love? It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more.

But you cannot simply give up on your husbands, can you?

~*~

“There you are! We were beginning to get worried!” James exclaims, taking your hand and ushering you into the room.

Steve watches curiously, something about you seeming off to him.

“I was engaged with Loki, I do apologize for taking so long.” You sit down on the bed, hand reaching for Steve’s.

Something’s not right.

You’ve been quite receptive to their physical touches, but this doesn’t feel right.

Instead of saying anything, the King keeps quiet and plasters a smile onto his face.

“You’re safe here, darling. You need not cut your conversations short for us.” You smile up at him then look over to the note on the bedside table.

“Have you had any luck?” The two shake their heads, wishing they were closer to figuring out who the threat is.

“What can you remember about receiving the letter? The time, if anybody was around?” James watches as your brows furrow, trying to recall anything that may be of use.

“Nothing stands out... although... Thor was quite adamant about bringing me here instead of back to you. I thought that a little strange but at the time I did not question it. And... there was an incident the other night.” Steve’s hand finds your lower back, urging you to continue.

“He made advances... declared his love for me. He later apologized for it, but the entire event has put me on edge.” The two Kings exchange glances at this new information, the brunet ready to go find Thor and give him a piece of his mind.

“Please do not be angry. I’m sure he meant nothing by it, and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble.” James shushes you, taking a seat on the bed beside you.

“You won’t cause any trouble. If this issue bothers you, then it must be brought up. We will have words with Thor.” You nod, the corners of your mouth turning up in a small but sinister grin.

~*~

The door to the chambers you’ve been trapped in opens, and the trickster walks in with a gleaming smile on his face.

“What have you done now?” You demand, tugging against your bonds.

He only chuckles, walking past you to the small tray of food on the bedside table.

“Oh, I’ve done nothing. It’s what you’ve done that will be the downfall of the two great kingdoms.” You shake your head at him, wanting to know exactly what he’s talking about.

“Right as we speak, you’re confessing to the Kings just how much my idiot brother loves you, how much he longs to be with you and how he would do anything for you. And we both know how much of a temper your husbands have, especially when it comes to you. So it is only a matter of time before they become defensive and seek him out.”

“Wait, Thor is unaware of your plot?” The man laughs, a full belly laugh from deep in his core at your question.

“Oh, Gods no! He is nothing more than a pawn in a far bigger plan than he realizes. His simple mind was far too easy to take, and his initial protection over you was easy to nurture into an infatuation and an unhealthy obsession.” He looks over at you, a smile on his face.

“And you, my dear, are going to be my greatest piece yet. His obsession will be not only the downfall of the Kingdoms, but also of you. He will be your undoing. Because in his mind, if he cannot have you, then nobody else can.” He straightens up and walks over to the wardrobe, pulling off his cloak and hanging it up.

“It’s unfortunate, really, because you are quite beautiful. Beauty is something that shouldn’t be wasted. But I suppose they’ll write sonnets and ballads about how ‘your beauty was what brought the kingdoms to ash’.” You struggle against your bonds, wanting nothing more than to take the knife strapped to your thigh and slash his throat with it.

“You will never get away with this! The Kings are far too smart. They’ll see right through your disguises.” He chuckles and turns to you, arms crossed over his chest.

“There’s a magic in this world, girl. One that you could not even begin to understand. The Kings are nothing more than mortal men. They will succumb to the powers I wield and they will burn, with you alongside them.” He cocks his head to the side, eyes raking over your face.

“But perhaps I need to have my own turn with you. Experience you both inside and out.” You shiver in disgust, pushing yourself as far back on the bed as you can.

The door creaks and the two of you look to the sound, the trickster backing up a step before vanishing into thin air, leaving you alone with the newcomer.

“I do hope you'll pardon my absence,” Thor says timidly, raking a hand through his hair and shutting the door behind himself.

“I had hoped to spend more time with you, however the duties of a King need to be fulfilled.” You say nothing, Loki’s words ringing over and over again in your ears.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t realize he’s climbed onto the bed until his large hands are pushing your knees apart.

“W-wait no!” An idea bubbles into your mind and you speak before you have time to second-guess yourself.

“If you truly wish for me to enjoy our time together, you must release me from my bonds! Do not take me the way the other Kings have. Please. You say you love me, then release me so that I too may enjoy it.” His face softens and he nods, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek before reaching around your back to yank the rope off of you.

“It was never my intention to bind you, sweet flower. But Loki insisted. He said that you couldn’t be trusted and I... I believed him. Please forgive me, my love.” He takes your hands in his so gently, so much love and affection behind his actions, and you find yourself feeling sorry for the man.

Beneath the pity is an anger. Anger at Loki for putting not only Thor through this, but for tormenting you with the knowledge that his love is not real. Nothing more than a facade.

“Thor... how much do you trust your brother?” The blond looks confused by the question and takes a moment to ponder it before answering.

“I... well... Loki and I have not always seen eye to eye. But within the past few months he has come around and been more present. All I’ve ever wanted was for my brother to feel at home in his kingdom. He believes himself to be shunned, an outcast, but he is my brother and I love him dearly. It pains me to see him shut himself away, but now he’s opening back up. And I do think that there is hope for us yet.” Your heart cracks at this.

“But enough about him. This should be about us. You and me, my dear.” His lips are then on your neck, hips pushing between your thighs and big body holding you down against the mattress.

Once again, you find yourself pinned beneath a man with no hope of escaping.

Well... almost no hope.

You swallow back the bile in your throat and seek out his lips, kissing him fiercely while your hands grasp at his shoulders.

He pulls away after a moment, yanking his tunic above his head and grinning down at you.

“Eager, are we?” You nod, fingers trailing over his sculpted torso.

He is a beautiful specimen, and it pains you to do what you’re doing.

“My King,” you whisper, back arching as he kisses over your neck once again. He hums, waiting for you to speak.

“May I ride you?” The words are whispered, barely breathed in the warm air of the room, but they elicit a growl from the man above you.

Your positions are flipped in an instant, you straddling the blond man while he lays comfortably below you.

His hands find your hips while your own shaky fingers pull his manhood from his trousers.

A groan leaves his lips at the feeling of your soft hands against his hot length, and your eyes flash up to his face.

His eyes are squeezed shut, and in that moment you realize it’s now or never.

One hand stays on his length, stroking gently, while the other reaches to the dagger strapped on your inner thigh.

You don’t need to kill him, only to incapacitate him long enough for you to escape.

Disguising the motion as you simply moving your skirts out of the way, you grind your teeth together and squeeze your eyes shut.

The blade is raised high above your head, and then with all your might, you slam it down into his abdomen.

He lurches forward, eyes popping open in shock as you yank the blade back out and stumble off the bed.

His face contorts with first confusion, then betrayal, and pain following.

“Why?” His voice is a broken whisper, but you don’t dwell on it. Instead, you rise to your feet and sprint out of his chambers, bloody knife still held tightly in your grasp.

You can hear him behind you, grunting with pain as he moves through his chambers then stumbles through the doorway, but you’re already far enough ahead to create a scene if need be.

You cut through the gardens, grabbing your skirts and hiking them up above your knees to give you more room to run.

Your shoulder connects with the familiar door of safety, and you stumble inside, shaking hands dropping both your skirts and the blade onto the floor.

“(Y/n)?!” James and Steve rush over to you quickly, inspecting your body for any wounds.

“I-It’s Thor! And Loki! Loki’s behind all of it and he has Thor trapped under a curse of some kind! I do not know what he has told you, but he was posing as me and you must believe me!” You’re near hysterical, knowing that if they don’t believe you then you’ll be sent straight back into the hands of the King.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Steve asks.

“Loki is a sorcerer. A powerful one. H-he posed as me and no doubt came to the two of you. I can only imagine the lies he spewed. He means to overthrow the kingdoms and he has Thor under-” The door gets pushed open, the man in question looking around frantically until his eyes fall upon your figure.

“Ah, there you are. You needn’t be afraid, my love. I know it was only an accident.” He’s got one of his hands pressed against the gaping wound in his abdomen, the other reaching out for you.

“No!” You cry, near ready to pull your hair out.

James pushes you behind his back, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at the King.

“You will not take another step, do you understand? We can discuss this like men, not fight about it like boys.” Thor blinks a few times, eyes darting between you and your husbands.

“Very well.” He straightens up, face perfectly political.

“I would like you to hand over my wife, or I will kill her where she stands. If I cannot have her, then nobody can.”

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