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#tva loki x reader
cleo-fox · 6 months
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Overtime
Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).
A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.
Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.
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You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.
“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”
“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.
“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”
“You’re still doing it.”
Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.
And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.
“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”
Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”
But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.
Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.
Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.
“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”
“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”
“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”
You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”
“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”
Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.
“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”
This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.
Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”
You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.
“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”
The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.
This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.
You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.
The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.
Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.
“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.
Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.
And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.
It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.
You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.
“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”
In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.
Also not a great sign.
Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”
“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”
“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”
Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.
“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”
“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.
“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.
This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.
You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”
“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”
Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.
“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder
You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.
There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.
“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.
“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”
That at least earns you a hint of a smile.
*
Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.
You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.
You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.
Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.
You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”
Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”
You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.
But you’re also not about to say no, either.
“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”
The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.
“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.
You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”
“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”
“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”
You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.
“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?”  he says.
You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”
He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”
“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.
Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”
“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”
He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”
It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”
“We’re going out for dinner.”
*
He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.
“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.
“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.
An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.
“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”
“Please,” he says.
“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”
“Coffee would be great.”
“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”
He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”
“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”
“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”
“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”
“Technically.”
“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”
You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”
“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”
Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.
“Please,” he says.
“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”
You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”
“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.
“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.
“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.
“Liar,” you say promptly.
He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”
“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”
“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.
“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”
“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”
“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”
“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”
“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”
“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”
“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”
“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”
He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”
You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”
That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.
“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”
You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”
“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”
Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.
“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.
You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”
“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.
You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
“It’s not a lie—”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.
“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”
There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.
“It does.”
There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.
“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”
He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”
It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”
He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”
“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”
He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”
You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”
Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”
“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”
Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”
“I think I have that memorized at this point.”
“‘The perfect choice for families.’”
“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”
“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”
“‘You can’t say no to that.’”
You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.
The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.
“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.
His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”
You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.
Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation. 
Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.
“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.
“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”
Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.
“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later. 
“What’s that?”
“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”
You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”
He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”
You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”
“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.
You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”
“What are body shots?”
For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.
He’s teasing you.
“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.
He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”
You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”
He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”
You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.
But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.
“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.
“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”
“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”
He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.
“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says
“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.
“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”
Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.
There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together. 
“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”
“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”
“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”
He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”
“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”
“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”
“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”
You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.
“Where are we going?”
“I know a place.”
*
The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.
“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.
Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”
“You do. It’s Mobius.”
“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”
“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”
He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”
You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”
He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”
“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”
Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”
You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.
The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.
“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.
“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”
“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”
“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”
He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 
You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.
“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.
“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”
“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”
“Darling. You have a TemPad.”
“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”
He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”
You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”
“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”
He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”
“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”
He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”
“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”
It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”
He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.
“Of course.”
Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.
The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.
There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.
You touch his hand. “This way.”
You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.
“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”
He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”
“What is it?”
They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”
The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”
“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”
This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”
You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”
“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”
“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”
“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”
“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”
He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”
You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”
He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”
“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”
Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”
“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”
You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.
You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”
He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.
There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“For what?”
“For showing me that.”
“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”
He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.
For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.
The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.
Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”
There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.
You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.
But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.
*
You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.
But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.
“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.
It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.
Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”
You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”
Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.
“There’s still so much left.”
“There’s still tomorrow.”
You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”
He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”
He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.
You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.
You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”
To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.
You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.
As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.
“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 
This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.
“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.
“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”
Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.
And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.
“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 
“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.
She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”
With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.
“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.
Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.
Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.
But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.
You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—
“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.
“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”
“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”
“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.
His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”
You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”
“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”
Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.
“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”
You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.
He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.
“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”
“Thanks.”
In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.
You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.
When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.
You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.
You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”
“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”
You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”
“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.
You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”
He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”
You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”
“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”
“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”
“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”
“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.
He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.
Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.
“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.
“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”
He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”
“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.
“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.
“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”
With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.
“Hey!” you shout in protest.
“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.
This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.
Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.
“This is ridiculous,” you say.
“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.
You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.
He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.
“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”
That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.
He grins. “Not a chance.”
You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.
It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.
Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.
“Yield,” he says.
You shake your head. “Never.”
His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”
“No.”
Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 
But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.
“Yield.”
You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”
Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?
“Yield.”
God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 
“No.”
He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.
They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.
“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.
“No,” you say.
He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.
He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.
“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 
“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.
You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.
“No,” you say.
“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.
His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.
“Cheater,” you say. 
“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”
You shiver. “Your prize?”
“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”
“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”
“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 
“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.
“You have not,” you say.
“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”
You nod. “Yes.”
He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.
You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”
You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.
He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.
You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.
His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.
Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.
“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.
“What is it, my love?”
“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”
You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 
You believe him.
His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.
“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.
You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.
“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”
You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”
His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.
“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”
For who?”
“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”
“You’re not,” you say.
“Some would disagree.”
“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”
There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.
“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”
“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”
You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”
“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”
A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”
The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”
“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”
“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”
“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.
“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”
That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.
“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”
This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.
“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”
Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.
You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.
“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.
He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.
Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.
You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.
You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.
This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.
Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.
It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.
“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”
“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.
“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.
“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”
His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?
“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”
You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.
You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.
You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.
“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”
“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.
“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”
You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 
“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”
“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.
“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”
You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.
He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”
You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.
“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”
He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.
Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.
He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.
After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.
“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.
“Yes,” you breathe.
He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.
He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.
But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.
You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.
He does.
He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.
He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.
He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.
“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.
You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”
He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”
His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.
He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.
He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.
“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.
You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”
“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”
With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.
He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.
“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”
He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.
He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.
You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.
“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.
He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”
You whimper. “Loki—”
“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”
Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.
You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.
As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.
It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.
After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.
You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.
You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.
You don’t know it then, but you’re right.
*
Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.
Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.
“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.
“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.
“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”
Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”
But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.
“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”
You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”
“A confession,” says Mobius.
“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”
Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 
Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”
“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”
“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”
“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.
Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”
You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.
“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”
Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”
Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”
Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”
“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”
Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”
Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”
“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”
“What do you mean?”
Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”
Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.
“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”
“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”
“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.
Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”
“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”
Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”
Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”
“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.
“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.
It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.
“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.
“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.
“I know,” he whispers back.
But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.
“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.
“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.
He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”
Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”
He grins and tugs you through the time door.
-------
But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.
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anundyingfidelity · 6 months
Text
FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader
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Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.
Word count: 3.9k.
Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.
Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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It's harder to stay...
Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.
The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.
Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.
"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.
Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"
The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.
"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.
"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.
"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.
During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.
"So it's personal..."
"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.
"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."
"I won't."
2029, Sacred Timeline
When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.
But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.
You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.
At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.
Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.
He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.
So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.
Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.
The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.
"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.
You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.
"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.
All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."
"Loki, I saw you die..."
Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.
"I know you did, my love."
You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.
And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.
"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.
You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"
Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.
"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."
"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."
"What?" you mumbled.
Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?
"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.
Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"
He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."
You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.
"Your death was supposed to be then?"
"Yes, it was."
"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.
Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.
Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.
"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"
"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.
You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."
Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"
"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."
"Or you could do both."
"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."
"It's not your fault."
"I know, Loki."
"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."
You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."
Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.
You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.
"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."
He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."
"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."
"No,I can't-"
"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."
Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.
"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."
And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."
Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.
When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.
"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.
Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."
His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.
You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."
"Thank you, love."
Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.
"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.
"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.
So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.
Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.
"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.
"I love you too."
Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.
The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.
So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.
He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.
Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.
At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.
"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."
"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.
"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.
"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.
"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."
And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.
You were right. Mobius was a good friend.
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hail-brod · 6 months
Text
A Chance and Beyond (1)
Next chapter: (Chapter 2)
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Loki x FReader
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Set after the events of Thor: Ragnarok and begins with Infinity War when the spaceship containing Thor and the other Asgardians were spared from the supposed attack of Thanos. Meaning, Loki is alive. But the threat still looms.
(Also, let's just pretend Hela didn't destroy Mjollnir :DD)
Spoilers for Loki season 2!
Warning/s: Just some cursing
WC: 3.3k
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When you realized that your existence is in great trouble, you do your best to find a way to get back to where you were previously encapsulated as a time criminal. After all, they're the reason why you're fucked. But, seems like you'll be needing the Avengers' help first. And Loki's.
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"What the fuck."
Was all Tony Stark could managed to say after being abruptly interrupted by a terrifyingly distorted figure appearing right in front of him, evidently disrupting the banter he was having with the so-called God of Mischief, Loki. The other avengers surrounding the two men were no different, frozen on their spot as they gather round in the sophisticated compound, loss for words at the woman who happens to appear uninvited.
You stood there breathless.
Without any second thoughts, they made their move directing a fighting stance at you, as if expecting a sudden attack. Just what you'd expect from the Earth's mightiest heroes.
Minus Loki.
Though, not without a hint of confusion delighting their faces.
After you had successful regain your balance, although still dreading the feeling of being ripped apart through time, you slowly flayed your hands up in defeat. Panting, you surveyed around.
You were in the Avengers' compound.
"What...in the hell was that?" the one who seemed to have said that was actually the only one hesitant to attack you, knuckles upfront him with an obvious unsureness as his eyes warily scanned you. Gaping, he continued. "Did I...Did I hallucinate that or...? Oh, god, am I going mad?"
"I don't believe that is the case here, Banner." boomed Thor, holding out Mjollnir threateningly. Eyes stern at your panting form.
Alright, how fortunate to see a very familiar face.
"I hope so. Or else, I might as well decide that being on a whole different planet for a whole year and being part of a godly family crisis has already altered my mind in many different ways."
"Bruce, calm down." a bearded blonde man with a shield said. Steve Rogers. You recall. "Just be thankful that isn't the case here because it certainly isn't."
You wish you could snort at the exchange but you have other matters to focus on at the moment. Though, you held Banner's terrified gaze with a wary of your own as you think for a moment who Banner is but you brush it aside.
You can't afford to dilly-dally with such questions and just preferably, avoid starting a needless fight.
With Stark now a few steps back from you, hands enclosed in his iron red gauntlet with the center of his palm alight, he eyed you suspiciously. He pointed at you, threatening to blast you on your spot. Not even sliding the chance to put out a snarky comment. "I don't know about that Cap. I think we've all gone mad."
"Shut it, Tony." the blondied woman in a black armored and leather suit remarked, eyeing the freaked out Banner. "Now's not the time."
He only gave her a stern look before returning it back to you, although not without muttering something under his breath. You can almost make out the mocking smile he had before seriously staring you down.
That's also when you perfectly noticed the raven haired God at your other side. Just like Stark, he was a few steps away. Your hands were still in the air as you didn't waste a second to slowly shift your eyes to the God who you we're just with a few hours ago.
Technically, it isn't him and also, you're not even certain if that was a few hours ago. TVA has victoriously displaced your sense of time and you have no choice but to set that aside for now.
First and foremost, let's not die in the hands of these worldly — and otherworldly — renowned superhuman Midgardian people.
"That was no sorcery." was all Loki could utter, blaring a suspicious glare at you. At this point, you can say that everyone here is glaring daggers at you with so much suspicion after just witnessing you appear uncannily right in front of their eyes. Loki's trusty daggers points at you with such intensity that you can't help but freeze on your spot entirely. You garner that moving further might just cause him to pounce on you and successfully cut your throat out.
Such a Loki trait. You consciously note. At the same time, it pricks a sense of oddness to you.
"For once, I can agree with you." this time, it was the man in a red cape. His hands projecting a some sort of fiery circular engravings — Or markings, it seems — that you were not familiar with. Although, it did felt familiar. "Who are you and why have you come here?"
Finally asking the right questions, everyone else anticipated your response.
"I'd really thought you'd ask how I did get here but, fine." your attempt at settling everything down with a little humor earned nothing. You only strained a smile. "You can put your guard down now. I doubt I can even inflict damage to any of you when I am outnumbered, don't you think?" You say with a nervous shrug.
"Wait.." Thor started. "You are an Asgardian."
Ah.
"Wait, what now?" a conflicted Banner turned to him with a frown. "Where did that come from?"
"Her clothing." it was Loki. Tilting his head, he slightly squinted at you. You can already feel their movements break from their stance but nonetheless, was still on guard. "But I wouldn't want to jump to conclusions if I were you, brother. A lie or two is easy to miss." he says that in a lowered and slick tone, eyes prying deep in your existence.
"Good preach, God of Lies, but why don't you myth brothers figure something out if she'll massacre us or join the party. Is that good or is that impossible?" Stark commands.
"That's-" Thor tries to say.
"I can do that." Oh no.
Without hesitation, Loki readies to attack you with a knowing smirk. You want to say that you expected that but in terms of fighting physically between you and him, he always precedes. Except when it comes to sorcery.
Yet, his daggers haven't spelt your doom when suddenly, you fell.
You fell and landed in a bright room enclosed with the very bright color of white. Norns, help me. At this point, I'm not even surprised if Midgardian structures could be capable of blinding me. Humans and their taste in design.
Before you could jump to assumptions whether you time-slipped again, you heard the sound of sizzling above you as you turn to look only to see a yellow ring close.
Oh. You thought. Of course. How can I forget that doctor wizard and his parlor tricks? I can do better than that.
But before you could prove it to no one in particular by trying to dematerialize a wall for your way out, which you expected to be unbreakable because, well, this is the Avengers' territory — you felt the familiar twist of your body as you closed your eyes, getting ready for what's to come. You're time-slipping. Again.
When you opened your eyes, you don't know if you should be relieved or not because you were still in the same spot.
I am seriously starting to despise this more than anything. You say in your mind, cranking your head in pain.
As if the universe has heard your impulsive thoughts for wanting to pride yourself as the better sorcerer, one episode of time-slipping has managed to avert your thoughts to a different one. There's really no point in trying to escape when you'll be thrown off eventually to a different timeline thus, relieving you off of this situation. At least you hope you'll have that kind of luck, considering that you're here imprisoned and untrusted by heroes. For the meantime, you painfully have a lot of questions.
The fact that you are time-slipping outside of TVA is making you feel wary and disoriented.
Not just that, because you're not being tossed around through time in one place like before in TVA, but because you're being tossed around in different branches of time. You can't help but overthink, a blooming panic erupts in you. If what you heard from Ouroboros was true, about the possibility of being lost to time, then maybe you can consider that that's what's occurring to you. Adding to that, how can Loki and the others track you when there's a number of branches exceeding spontaneously and you're amongst one of them — inconsistently appearing through one branch after another.
To hell with this time-slipping phenomenon.
Such thoughts have managed to waver your poised will. You don't want this. After everything that's happened, you're now overwhelmed by incomparable fear, enough to cover the pang of grief that you successfully tried to keep a hold off during the dangers you have encountered. And that causes you to resume the fear of losing something again. If before you've lost the right to exist in your own timeline, then now seems like you're losing more than you could think of.
A chance. The chance to only exist without the burden of being a criminal to time.
The Loki you met ensured you that. And you're scared to lose the hope you unconsciously held so close that he had given you.
You're scared that you're bound to be stuck in time, alone and nowhere to belong to.
You're just a displaced speck of entity in the vast timelines of universes, an error meant to be rid of.
Is this truly the ending that you deserve?
Just lost to time. For eternity.
After everything that you've been through, you think of the fact that your Nexus event was a fickle thing in the grand scheme of things. A mere sentiment, and now it's a fault that you apparently cannot undo.
Would you have regret it?
Ah. You think. That's the problem,
I don't.
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For the love of Buri, what is happening?
You have already time-slipped thrice in a row now, and you're still where you stood afoot a few minutes ago.
You hitched your breathing as you relished the acquainted feeling of distortion, you exhaled in distraught. Your mind trying to run a million miles per second thinking of an explanation on the same bloody concept of time as well as your timely old friend, time-slipping. Marvelous.
But before you could sit down and relax on the cushions edging on two sides of the opposite walls which levels above your knee, you caught in the corner of your eye the wall you tried to dematerialize earlier; now fading from white to being transparent like glass.
And behind the glass wall stood your captors.
You tried to ground yourself with the wall beside you, but you pushed your body to the side so that you can at least have the decency to look like you aren't struggling so much. Because you definitely aren't.
"Good catch." remarked Stark. "We have so much going on today with Earth being threatened by a goofy alien that's apparently so much more dangerous than we could know — and now, you add more questions and trouble to that just for appearing out of nowhere like a grated spaghetti."
You almost missed the way the blonde woman rolled her eyes at Stark's words but nonetheless, you focus on what he said.
Earth being threatened by an alien.
"Do you mean to say... Thanos?" you ask. Doubtlessly aware of his feats and reputation in your timeline. Their heads perked up at the mention of the said Titan.
"You know of him?" quite surprised at the familiar voice, you turn to look at Thor.
Parting your lips with slight hesitation, you reply. "No. No, I do not. At least, not personally. He is called the Mad Titan, a galactic conqueror. Tis but a.... common knowledge where I come from."
"Which is Asgard, is it not?" Loki tauntingly says.
Oh, well.
He eyes you in victory for having caught your lie and the foolish words you had unintentionally slip. But he continued. "Or perhaps, my brother and I are mistaken to assume that you are a kin of our people. As well as considering that of your knowledge of this Mad Titan, you seem to know more than just that." you slightly stiffened, noting the lofty tone he had, slowly strutting his way forward with his hands tucked behind him. "Keep hiding your secrets but your eventual lies will get you nowhere when I'm here, imposter."
"Brother..."
"No, no, let him. It's great that we have a lie-detector in the team." Stark muses, earning an unamused head shake from Rogers.
Your gaze lingers a tad bit longer than you intended to at the raven-head, deciding whether you should even admit your unruly situation to them and potentially double their troubles a hundredfold by stating that their lives are also in danger from a timeless phenomenon and being at risk for the possible collapse of their existence altogether.
Probably not a good idea.
Moreover, you don't want to let yourself fall in the luxury of pitting yourself with fellow Asgardians and perhaps attain the old life you had when you woefully know that you have no place in any kind of reality no more. Your heart clenches at that.
But how can you possibly deny your origin and the non-sorcery distortion materialization, also called—
Your body aches and twists as you grit your teeth, shutting your eyes and reliving the ripping portion of this damned time-slip. As it ended, your breath wavers as you pant, shoulders crooked at the fleeting sensation it brought. Expecting that maybe you have been transported to another timeline, you peek one eye out.
You see the same faces and surroundings except this time, their reaction contorts to a series of pained and horrified expressions. Even Loki looked uneasy.
You exhale. "Pardon me, that must've been very unsightly." you eventually say.
"That just happened again." Banner gawks.
"Are you alright?" a stern voice asks. You turn to meet the concerned eyes of Rogers. "I assume that doesn't happen normally. Not even for Asgardians." you caught the quick glance he gave at Thor before focusing back on you.
You reply, nodding. "No, no, you're right. This is no common occurrence amongst the people of Asgard. It is simply just.... " you puff your body back up in a poised posture. "No, not simply." you let out a strained chuckle, confliction can be traced on your face. "To be painfully honest and blunt, I am lost through time and I haven't got a clue on what exactly I shall plan to do in these circumstances. Although indeed, I am an Asgardian but, from a different...let's say, reality. So rest assured because I don't plan on harming heroes I've accompanied in battle."
You were ready to receive their doubtful phrases and looks, but the sorcerer who brought you in this cage steps forward. Almost like he disapproved everything you had just mentioned.
"Time-travelling is not something to be tampered with. Unless, you're adept at the arts of time sorcery, and to be able to manipulate it without damaging our reality is rather a big feat for a sorcerer." he explains. This time, he frowns at you. "But no. Whatever's happening to you, it doesn't feel like magic."
You take in his words, holding his unrelenting stare. "You're right..."
You know Doctor Strange and his capabilities as the Sorcerer Supreme, and as you thought of the fact that he also possesses the Time Stone, maybe you can do something with his help.
Even though you know the chances of successfully using magic against a complication from TVA is way below the odds, you'd wager.
He raises a brow but before he could add more, you spoke. "Time-slipping." you pause, scanning his expression, hoping that maybe someone who knows so much about the expertise of time in terms of magic could help you discover your way back to TVA. Though, his face doesn't show any hint of knowing so you pushed further. "I've been repeatedly tossed around multiple branches of time against my will, but not because I time-traveled. For now all I can say is, I am stuck here in your reality and, well... with a distorting body."
"Great. Sure. Magic and sorcerers exist, even Gods, so why the hell would I not believe anything about time-traveling now? Tell me, Doc, is she making any sense to you?" Stark walks towards the said wizard. You slightly frowned at the tone he used. If this is how Tony Stark reacts to someone he doesn't trust just like how a particular individual mentioned to you, then you're glad that the Stark that you know favored you well.
Not that it matters anymore.
"I've never heard anything about that kind of problem. Especially now you do confirm it doesn't root from magic." the Doctor answers.
Stark hefts up his hands, looking around at everyone else, as if showing that his point has just been proven.
But from the corner of your eye, you noticed the way Loki haughtily rolls his eyes with a sigh and you perfectly know what irked him at that moment.
"As if a second-rate sorcerer could know anything more beyond the complexion of sorcery and time."
The only woman other than you sighs in slight frustration. "Oh, no. Someone please stop him."
If you weren't in a tight spot, you could've laughed at her compliant. Although, that earned her a glare from the trickster with crossed arms. For once in a while, it's nice to see Loki act so indifferently.
Strange only gave the God a pointed look before resting his eyes back on you. "Okay. If what you say is true, time-slipping as you would call it and to consider there's no magic tapping into this, what exactly do you plan on doing now?"
There it is. "I need your help."
"Are you shitting me right now?" Stark loops in.
"Even if with just your help, Doctor Strange. Please." you plead, firmly stepping closer to the glass barrier.
"How can you assure you're not just after something from us, specifically from him." Loki tips his head in Strange's direction. You know well that he caught unto your intentions as he spares a quick glance at the necklace of the said wizard.
Cocky snake.
At that, everyone stares at you sharply that if looks could kill, you'd be a dead corpse that has been stabbed with various types of weaponry magnificently forged by dwarves.
"You're not entirely wrong if you think that I'm after the Time Stone but for argument's sake, there is a reason why it is called the Time Stone." you explain, trying not to waver for being the receiving end to their eventual wrath. For a second, you thought you'd gain another yet of Loki's condescending retortions, but you're surprised that he only eyed you down impassively. Observing you.
Banner joins in. "If you admit it and put it like that then, I don't even know if you're lying or not anymore." he sits down on one of the metallic chairs by the semi-circular machinery in the middle of the room. "Even though that last part sounded dumb for an excuse; which is exactly why I'm having second thoughts."
"That's... I appreciate that — I think." you say, slightly frowning. It is dumb. You don't blame him though.
He gives you a tight-lipped smile which disappears immediately. "Yeah, no, it's fine."
Stark looks at him incredulously, as if he truly felt betrayed. "Bruce, what the hell?"
The others quirk confusingly at the exchange before you spoke again. "But to be clear again, that wasn't an excuse. Not for deception, at least."
It actually didn't sit quite well with you that the one who usually loves to deceive is standing idly in silence when you mentioned his expertise.
But you know that calculating gaze of his.
"Fine." you bat an eye at the person who spoke. "But you are to be restrained until we deem you trustworthy. One wrong step and you might just end up somewhere other than a cell."
A weight lifts up from your chest, somehow. You eye Strange in relief, almost a hint of exhaustion engulfs your expression but you blink it away. "I am grate-"
Your body contorts and twists once again.
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Next chapter: (Chapter 2)
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
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Ko-fi?
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chairwritexv · 11 months
Text
in addition to the main timeline loki, i’m now writing for TVA!loki, Sylvie!loki, kid!loki, president!loki, and (platonic)!alligator!loki !!!
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redroomwidows · 7 months
Text
Loki Requests
I’d love to start writing some loki requestss!
Please send any ideas you have over to me! Currently I only write for Loki from his show (tva loki) as that’s who i’m most comfortable with.
here’s a prompt list if it helps!
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wheredafandomat · 6 months
Text
My Loki
TVA! Loki x female reader
18+ | contains smut - Quick fire rapid small drabble thing because ep 2 was hot 🥵 WK 700
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“I have done some terrible awful things. Yeah, maybe that is who I am and he knows, she knows” Loki paused for a moment, glancing at you “it’s the real me. A loser. Always have been, always will be” he continued.
“Loki” you interrupted to no avail.
“And perhaps I’ve been holding something back. Perhaps I’ve just been waiting for a moment like this, so I can do terrible awful things to you” he threatened, stepping closer to Brad who’s expression had contorted into fear.
“Loki, that’s enough” Mobius tried to intervene but he was in a trance.
“Loki” you spoke authoritatively, stepping between him and Brad, snapping him out of his stupor as his almost teary eyes met yours. “No” you mouth, urging him to back down.
Taking a deep grounding breath, Loki turned away before storming out of the room. You looked over at Mobius who shrugged his shoulders before you chased after Loki, calling his name but he didn’t respond, he just weaved his way through the other agents, continuing down the corridor.
“Loki, Loki!” You yelled, following him into a locker room as he spun around.
“WHAT?” He exclaimed.
“Talk to me” you implored.
“You want me to talk to you?” He questioned almost mockingly as he stepped towards you, caging you between himself and the locker behind you. You tried to keep your breaths even as the familiar scent of his cologne evaded your senses, exciting you. “Hmm? Is that what you want?” He continued, using his thumb and index finger to tilt your chin upwards, his eyes boaring into yours. “You want me to confide in you, tell you what’s going on in my head, what I’m thinking?” He listed as he lifted your skirt up a little, pushing one of his legs between yours and stealing your breath away as he began rubbing his thigh against your clothed pussy. Your head fell back against the locker, eyes closed as your panties dampened. You practically purred when he undid one of the buttons on your shirt and began kissing your neck. “What if I don’t want to talk?” He uttered against your lips before you pressed yours against his, kissing him deeply.
Lifting you, Loki pressed you back harder against the lockers with his hips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Using one of his hands, he undid his belt, pulling his trousers low enough to free his hard cock as he pumped it a couple of times before running it through your slick folds and guiding himself to your entrance.
“Fuck Loki” you murmured in his ear as he entered you before pulling out a little and thrusting inside of you again. His movements were fast, almost desperate as you moaned against his ear. You could tell this wouldn’t take long for either of you.
“I’m the villain y/n” Loki confessed between thrusts as he grunted “in his story and in yours”
“No” you insisted, opening your eyes as you looked down into his, your hand against his cheek as he slowed this thrusts “you’re the God of Mischief, you’re my Loki” you affirmed “not a villain” you smiled, Loki’s expression changing into something that could only be described as fond.
Pecking your lips, Loki sped his thrusts again, fucking into you with ardour as the lockers behind you clanged against the wall, the sound of both of you moaning filling the room.
“I’m so closee” you mewled moments before your orgasm swarmed you leaving you shaking as Loki chased his own.
“Fuck” he cursed, stilling his movements as he pushed his hips against yours, filling you with his warm seed as he rode out his high.
Once you were both sated, Loki placed you back down onto shaky legs as he pulled his trousers back up, simultaneously pulling your skirt down as if he knew you were both about to be interrupted.
“Here you are, I’ve been searching everywhere for you both” Mobius spoke, entering the room as you fixed your hair.
“What?” Loki questioned as Mobius’s gaze flicked between you both suspiciously.
“No, nothing” he dismissed, noticing your shirt button undone.
“Let’s go then” Loki gestured, walking past Mobius and out of the room.
Tags
@lokisgoodgirl @thenotoriouserg @chantsdemarins @donaweasley @xorpsbane @mcufan72 @loz-3 @evelyn-kingsley @sailorholly @lovingchoices14 @lokiedokiee @noideakitten @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @lokiprompts @lulubelle814 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @gigglingtiggerv2 @tmilover1993 @lyds247 @dustychinchilla74 @lokis-dark-queen @november-rayne @12-pm-510 @vickie5546 @newtomofgods @eyesbluelikethetitanic @lokiestorch @somewhereinthegalaxi @beautyb1ade @angelilacsworld @lokidokieokie @mushypork @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed
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five-miles-over · 10 months
Text
Imagine waking up in an alternate reality where you and Loki are a newlywed couple living in the suburbs
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This isn't my bed.
You opened your eyes, finding yourself nestled in pine green sheets of sateen. How did I even get here? As soon as you sat up, your eyes darted about the room.
Large and luxurious seemed to describe the queen-sized bed you were sitting in. The bedroom had off-white painted walls, a large ebony dresser with a mirror that perfectly captured your reflection, and a three-paned window offering a view of an idyllic suburban neighborhood.
From there, you could see a clean yard with rose bushes and yellow dandelions, all behind a white picket fence. There was a walkway, leading up to what could only be assumed to be the front door. And there was even a little mailbox with a green flag.
You blinked in disbelief at the sight, and decided to turn your attention to the rest of the bedroom. The next thing that caught your eye was the nightstand, which was ebony to match the dresser. Maybe it was part of a set.
On the nightstand was a set of silk ribbons, a wristwatch, and a framed photo. You picked up the frame and saw yourself in a wedding gown, smiling while being hugged by a tall man with dark curls that framed his long, pale face. His eyes crinkled at the corner as he grinned, looking at the camera as if this were the happiest moment of his life. The two of you seemed so perfect together, maybe even in love. The photo was in black and white, so you couldn't say much about the color of his eyes. However, it was obvious that he was wearing a black suit with a lily boutonniere. Classy.
"Morning, darling!"
You looked up to see the same man from the photo, except his curls were dripping and he wore a fluffy, black bathrobe. It didn't take long for you to notice his striking cheekbones, and the besotted look in his eyes that almost resembled the way he looked in the photo. But in all fairness, the camera did not do his beauty complete justice.
He came closer to you and gently planted his lips on yours. He tasted of mint, and his skin smelled like rain. You slowly reciprocated the kiss, putting your fingers on his cheek.
"Were you taking a trip down memory lane?" The man fondly asked, glancing at the photo. "I still can't believe that was only two months ago. Can you?"
You shook your head.
He hugged you from behind and kissed the top of your hair. "I'll finish getting dressed, and then meet you in the kitchen for breakfast."
You climbed out of bed, oblivious to a ring on your left hand. "Where...where are you going,...darling?" You swallowed.
"To work," he chuckles. "Can't be starting a Nexus Event at my own workplace." The man examines himself in the dresser's mirror. Then, he opens a drawer, retrieves a small pot of facial moisturizer, and dabs it on his forehead, rubbing it in circles. "You know the TVA, darling."
"The...Time Variance Authority," you mumbled, watching his reflection. "I should...I should go."
You hurried out of the bedroom, down a long hallway filled with pieces of generic artwork, and into a kitchen.
"What do you think of having pancakes this morning?" The man could be heard asking while you entered what seemed to be the kitchen kitchen.
As if the place were taken straight from the 1950s, everything - the oven, the fridge, the cabinets, and even the wallpaper - was completely pastel green, a shade of seafoam. Why is there so much green in this house?, you asked yourself.
Maybe it was because you watched too many sitcoms, or had seen too many vintage photos, but the first thing you did was put on an apron that had been laying around. And then, you opened the fridge, which was fully stocked with everything: a full carton of milk, a dozen eggs, various vegetables, some cuts of meat wrapped in butcher paper, and cheddar cheese.
Pancakes, you thought to yourself, taking the eggs and milk out of the fridge. Thankfully, there was an unopened box of pancake mix on one of the kitchen countertops. Yes it was strange, cooking breakfast for a man whose name you didn't even know, but he'd been so sweet to you. And maybe if you were on his good side, you could actually get some answers about who he was. "Hm..." A few moments later, while you were mixing the pancake batter in a large bowl, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. "I just can't get enough of you." The man's dulcet voice tickled your ears.
You laughed politely as he kissed your cheek. When you looked over your shoulder, you noticed he was wearing a white button-down shirt , a dark tie, and brown dress pants that showed off his perfectly-tight ass. For a moment, it made you blush. Apparently, the man noticed...and promptly winked in your direction.
As you heated the pan and greased it with butter, you could hear the man pouring himself a cup of coffee or tea, and then opening a newspaper.
"I'm cancelling drinks with Mobius tonight," the man casually said. "Coming straight home after work."
Not knowing at all who he could be referring to, you scooped the batter into the pan and watched it sizzle. "Why?"
He flipped a page of the newspaper. "Because he's making me watch another set of boring trading videos today. It's tedious, honestly." The man smiles when the scent of warm pancakes reaches his nose. "What I wouldn't give to be back on our honeymoon."
"Me too," you lied, placing the golden-brown pancakes onto a plate.
The man set the news paper aside and walked up to you, stroking your hair. "Maybe, tonight...we could even finish what we started on our honeymoon."
"Oh?" You found yourself smiling while you flipped two pancakes.
He whispered, "We could continue trying for a baby."
Don't burn the pancakes. Do NOT burn the pancakes. Blinking, you placed the two new ones with the rest of them on a plate, trying not to let your hand tense around the spatula. "A baby..." You put the plate of pancakes on the dining table, gently pushing aside the newspaper.
Next to the paper was a laminated id badge. It read, 'Time Variance Authority, Name: Loki Laufeyson, Role: Variant, ID: L1130'. You swallowed. struggling to look away from the badge as you tried to understand who the man really was. "Loki?"
"Those smell amazing, darling." Loki sat down and drizzled syrup on the pancakes. Then, procuring a bottle out of thin air, he sprayed a large peak of whipped cream on top.
You handed him a fork and knife, watching him begin to eat.
"Mm!" He moaned, closing his eyes for a moment. "This is delicious! Mm, I knew I married the right woman."
"Married?"
Loki chuckled before feeding you a forkful of pancake, syrup and whipped cream. "I love you more every day, Mrs. Laufeyson."
You gave him a gentle smile while chewing. "I...I love you more, Mr. Laufeyson." You made two pancakes for yourself, turned off the stove, and ate them while sitting across the table from Loki. How could it be possible that you were married to the God of Mischief, the younger prince of Asgard, the frost giant?
While eating, you glanced at your left hand, surprised by the sight of an elegant emerald ring with a gold band placed on your middle finger. But before you could ask Loki about any of this, the God of mischief put his now-empty plate in the sink. "I'd best be off now." He put his arm around your shoulder and pecked you on the lips. "Ah, parting is such sweet sorrow."
Loki walked towards the door with a brown jacket and a briefcase. "Wait! Loki!" You followed him out of the kitchen. "You forgot your badge."
Loki smiled, tapping the left side of his chest. "Pin it here, darling." He watched you with nothing but pure, unadulterated affection. "What would I do without you?" When you'd gotten the badge on his shirt, Loki gave you one last kiss. "No matter what happens," he softly said your name, "never doubt that I love you. I'll see you tonight, darling."
Taglist: @lokischambermaid @lokiismineforever @lokidbadguy @lokisgoodgirl @lokisprettygirl22 @smolvenger @holdmytesseract @wheredafandomat @wolfsmom1 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbsblr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life @huntress-artemiss @itsdoni @gruftiela @ellooo0ooo @ireallyneedtherapy @jennyggggrrr @anukulee @turniptitaness
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4everdramaqueen · 5 months
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Loki X Reader
Summary: Loki saves you from President Loki and then falls for you.
Warnings: none, just fluff.
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Loki sat down with the other variants, still confused he listened to each one of them, their lives, how they ended up where they ended up but something had struck Loki. They all spoke of Y/N, how beautiful she was, how kind she was, how equally mischievous she was and Loki felt a bit left out. In his timeline, there was no Y/N, he hadn't even heard of the name till just now.
"She was beautiful, the sweetest little mortal I had ever seen.." Classic Loki said with a smile, but his smile faded. "I never knew what became of her after I abandoned her on earth, I imagine she must have passed by now." He said earning sympathetic looks from the others. Boastful Loki chimed in now to say that his Y/N was equally as beautiful and sweet but when he killed Captain America and Iron Man she had left him.
"I didn't have a Y/N" Kid Loki said, Classic Loki turned to him and explained that he most likely would have met her when he was older. Even Alligator Loki had a Y/N! This was a lot to take in for Loki but he wondered, how come he didn't have a Y/N? Of course, he had lovers yes but never a companion, a wife, especially not a mortal one. For a moment, he felt saddened by this almost, as if he missed out on something he never knew he had. As time had gone on, Loki had devised an escape plan, of course nobody was willing to help with this plan of his so he was on his own but when he had left the hideout, he was met with another Loki, of course.
President Loki, arrogant, mean, selfish and narcissistic. With an army of other Loki variants by his side and the betrayal from Boastful Loki who had been helping President Loki, this was all too much. It seemed like an absolute nightmare.
In the midst of all the chaos, Loki noticed something or rather someone by President Loki's side, a beautiful girl in a tight fitted and very revealing dress and large heels that she had honestly looked uncomfortable in as she wrapped her arms around herself, her face filled with dismay. Loki watched her, watched as she shifted uncomfortably when President Loki spoke, until finally, his own army had betrayed him causing him to use this girl as a shield. Loki watched as President Loki's army heisted with their weapons now.
"Let's all just calm down, shall we? We wouldn't want to hurt Y/N would we?" President Loki said in a manipulative tone, Classic Loki glared at him and the rest of the Lokis did the same. Y/N whimpered slightly as a dagger was held to her throat, tears in her eyes. "Please..." She said in a raspy voice, President Loki shushed her harshly and attempted to back up slowly but another Loki held a knife to his back, President Loki sighed before pushing Y/N forward harshly making her fall to the ground with a loud thud, chaos ensued as now all the Lokis were fighting each other. Loki watched all this in horror and confusion before looking at the ground and seeing Y/N, she was going to get trampled if she stayed on the ground any longer, so Loki acted quickly, he ran over and with his magic pushed everyone away from her, before grabbing her bridal style and quickly carrying her away. Classic Loki looked at him before yelling "Get her out of here!" And so he did.
Once safely away from the others, he put her down gently and just stared at her. She was beautiful, like the other Lokis had said, but she seemed freighted, tired and was covered in bruises. "Are you alright?" Loki asked finally, Y/N looked up with a fearful look in her eyes, tears swelling up and she slowly backed up. She was scared. He noticed this right away and tried to reassure her everything was okay. "I promise you, I'm not going to hurt you." He said, but after he said it he was sure she had heard that one before and he was afraid he had made himself seem more threatening. Y/N shivered as she stared at the ground, not saying anything. Quickly, Loki conjured up a blanket for her that warmly wrapped around her shoulders. Y/N looked at it in confusion before her face softened and she looked at Loki with a small smile. "Thank you" she said quietly with a small smile, he smiled back. "No problem, I imagine you must be freezing in that." He said referring to her tiny revealing dress, her face saddened slightly and Loki was afraid he had messed this all up again, why was he getting so nervous? He had never acted like this before.
"it's what President Loki wants, so it's what I have to wear." She says sadly, Loki gave her a sympathetic look. "Well, I'm sure you won't have to worry about him ever again. I can conjure you up a new outfit if you'd like, just tell me what you want." He smiled. Y/N smiled, asking for pants and a shirt and some shoes, she didn't mind dresses, just not the ones President Loki liked. Y/N thanked Loki but soon went quiet again now making Loki awkwardly go quiet, she seemed like she had her guard up, still on the fence about Loki imagining he would betray her at any second.
"I'm Loki, by the way." Loki said stupidly in his attempt to calm Y/N down, she turned to him and giggled. "I figured." She joked sarcastically, Loki smiled, a light blush on his face. Why was he acting like this? On Asgard, he had many and it was easy for him but now, here he was making an absolute fool of himself. "I'm Y/N." She introduced herself putting a hand out for Loki to take and he did, her soft warm hand warming up loki's very cold hand making his heart do a strange little beat. "I know, I've heard a lot about you." He once again stupidly, or so he thought. "Well, not of you specifically but just, versions of you?" He said in a confused tone. Y/N smiled and finally began to start talking and getting more comfortable. Loki had explained how he got stuck in The Void and she explained the same.
"You sacrificed yourself for your Loki?" He was stunned, he could not imagine anyone sacrificing themselves for him. Y/N nodded her head. "Yes, and I was relieved to not be dead but I'm not sure if trapped in a void with millions of other Loki variants is really a step up, no offense of course." She joked. "None taken." He smiled. And there began their friendship, Loki traveled and protected Y/N wherever they went in his attempt to get back to the TVA, he had conjured her new clothes everyday and did everything to make her comfortable and it was then that he understood why all the Lokis had their own Y/N and loved her so dearly because he himself was beginning to fall for her.
As the days had gone on, they had found Kid Loki, Classic Loki and Alligator Loki and began traveling with them as well and they were all happy. They had their own hideout now and they all in their own way adored Y/N, especially Loki who had begun to fall for her more and more every single day but refused to say anything until Classic Loki had had enough.
"Uno!" Y/N giggled, Y/N had made Loki conjure up an Uno deck for them to play together, she taught him the rules and he quickly understood, truthfully, he had been letting her win this whole time just to see her smile and arrogantly, but of course jokingly, taunt Loki. Y/N yawned afterwards. "Alright guys, I think I'm gonna get some rest, I'm exhausted." She smiled and said all her goodbyes, but as she turned to Loki, she gently for a second put her hand on his and smiled as she told him goodnight. "Goodnight, Y/N." He said softly with a smile, as she turned to walk to her bed Loki's face was almost saddened, like he couldn't stand to be away from her. Kid Loki looked at both Alligator Loki and Classic Loki with a smirk. When Y/N was finally away where she couldn't hear anything, that's when the teasing began from Kid Loki and Classic Loki.
"Goodnight Y/N." Kid Loki mocked, Loki turned his gaze to Kid Loki and gave a slight scowl. "What?" He said, "You're in love with her! Why don't you just tell her already?" Kid Loki said, and oddly, Loki tried to deny it. "I am not." He said, it was now Classic Loki's turn to chime into the conversation. "Of course you are, Loki's love their Y/N's and you are no exception. Besides that, you're making it fairly obvious." Classic Loki said making Kid Loki snort before completely dying of laughter and mocking Loki. Even Alligator Loki found this all amusing. Loki shot them all a glare. "I have no idea what you're all talking about!" He said defensively but even he didn't believe his own words.
"It's best you just tell her before it's too late," Classic Loki said, his expression turning serious. "One thing about Loki's and Y/N's is that it's destined for tragedy." Classic Loki said making Loki not feel very confident. "Don't let that tragedy be you not telling her your feelings and regretting it later on." Now this was more convincing and so that was Loki's plan, he was going to tell her! He stood up out of his chair with a big smile on his face.
"What are you doing?" Classic Loki asked as he looked up at Loki, "I'm taking your advice and telling Y/N my feelings towards her." Loki said in an almost confused tone, "Not right now you fool, let the poor girl sleep first." Classic Loki said, Loki had completely forgotten she had just gone to bed. "Right." Loki said before sitting back down, Kid Loki rolled his eyes and shook his head.
The next morning Y/N woke up early, she came out to see all the Loki's around just talking. "Good morning everybody!" She smiled, Classic Loki and Kid Loki said their good mornings with a smile, Alligator Loki moved his tail around with what looked like a smile and Loki avoided eye contact which was strange and Y/N noticed it immediately. So, she walked up to him specifically. "Good morning Loki." She said, he finally turned to her and looked at her almost frightened. "Hi." He said simply and awkwardly, Kid Loki and Classic Loki sighed in the background. "Hi?" Y/N said raising an eyebrow staring at Loki suspiciously, something was wrong with him.
They stared at each other, the silence in the hideout was uncomfortable and awkward so Y/N excused herself and went outside for some fresh air. Once gone, they all turned to Loki with a look of disappointment. "Hi? Is that the best you could come up with?" Classic Loki asked, "I panicked okay?!" Loki said running his fingers through his hair and sighing, he shook his head and tried to think.
"Just go talk to her like you normally would." Kid Loki said, that was great advice. "Talk to her like you normally would." Loki repeated to himself, he nodded his head before leaving the hideout and immediately seeing Y/N there laying in the grass, wind blowing in her hair and her arms wrapped around herself, Loki once again conjured her a nice warm and cozy green blanket, it startled her slightly as she looked down at it before turning her head behind her. Loki sat down next to Y/N and smiled. "Thank you." She smiled, "Of course." He said.
The awkward silence had returned once more and now Y/N was beginning to wonder what was wrong, was it her? Whenever President Loki had gotten silent with her it usually meant that she had done something to upset him, was Loki upset at her? She frowned and turned to him.
"Did I do something wrong?" She asked suddenly, Loki stared at her with a look of confusion. "What?" He asked. "Did I do something wrong?" She repeated "To upset you, because if I did I'm sor-" Loki felt horrible, had he made her feel bad? "What?! No, no not at all it's just.." he paused and Y/N stared. Loki sighed wishing the words would just come to him. "It's not you, it's me." Loki said, Y/N raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh jeez thanks." She said sarcastically and Loki cursed at himself, he put a hand on Y/N' s shoulder gently.
"Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. Look, what I'm trying to say is." But he couldn't, he had never felt such an anxiety before but Y/N had never been more confused.
"Loki-"
"I love you."
Y/N blinked, the words not really registering in her brain. "What?" She said, Loki sighed. "I...I love you Y/N, I really do and I've been lying to myself for awhile now but I can deny no longer." It was now Y/N's turn to go speechless and awkwardly silent which only made Loki's anxiety worsen. With every passing moment of her not saying anything, Loki felt his heart breaking.
"Y/N, my dear, please say something-"
"I love you too Loki."
"What?" He said not believing the words he was hearing. "I love you Loki, I think from our first interaction I really fell for you and I just didn't think you'd feel the same." She confessed and Loki was stunned by this. "How could I not? I mean, you're sweet, intelligent, cunning and absolutely beautiful. I absolutely adore you and everything about you Y/N." She blushed at this and rested her head on Loki's shoulder, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer resting his head on hers.
"Well, look at that, now you have your own Y/N, now you're not missing out." She joked, Loki chuckled and could feel his heart beating faster, his face turned a bit serious and he looked down at her.
"Do I?" He asked.
"Do you what?"
"Have you?" He clarified, Y/N knew exactly what he was asking, in his own words and smiled. "If you want me, I'm all yours." She said, Loki put his hand gently on her cheek. "Of course I want you Y/N." He said staring into her eyes lovingly, he smiled when she smiled. "Then I'm all yours." She said and Loki's heart soared. Loki couldn't help but look down at her lips, and she did the same until finally, they connected in a sweet and passionate kiss.
"Finally!" They both heard making them break the kiss, they turned their heads to see Kid Loki and Alligator Loki staring at them with smiles.
"Go away!" Loki shouted back, Kid Loki put his hands up in a fake surrender. "Sorry," he said with attitude, "I'll leave you two to your makeup session then." Kid Loki said before going back into the hideout making Loki sigh and Y/N giggle.
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fanatic-writers · 7 months
Text
Loki Drabble
A/n: Just a little thought I had while watching the new episode of Loki. Requests are open!
Word Count: 844
Pairing: Loki x TVA!Reader
Summary: The three times Loki sees you in the past and the one time he finally catches up to the present
Warnings: Unedited, Season 2 spoilers ish
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You were at your desk in the TVA when you heard the commotion of your coworkers gawking at someone in front of you. “Y/n,” a strange man gasped as his hands came to cup your cheeks “gods darling you have to help me.” Your brow furrowed in confusion as you moved out of the man’s grasp. “You have five seconds to explain why you’re grabbing my face and calling me darling before I prune you.” You huffed in response, hand already searching for your weapon. “Darling, it’s me. It’s Loki.” He raised his hands in surrender as you shoved your time stick in his face. “Loki!? You mean the variant I’m supposed to be hunting down Loki?” You raise a brow, charging up the weapon and preparing to use it. Loki looked hurt, defeated even, as he seemed to melt into despair “You-you don’t remember me?” He frowned “I remember it's my job to get you off the timeline so the world doesn’t end.” You spoke as you lunged towards him. Loki was quicker though, sprinting through the hallways as you called for backup. You turned around a corner after him and heard a sort of yelp before you watched him seemingly get ripped from the universe. “What the hell was that?” You frowned as you looked to the men around you who just shrugged in response.
He had been moving through the TVA for a while now, through time more than space it seemed. He felt his body being ripped apart and pulled back together, he kept his eyes closed for a moment before he registered a scream that sounded oh so familiar. “Y/n?” He started hands already up as he approached you apprehensively. He’d had his fair share of run-ins with the past yous now and he just wanted you to recognize him. Maybe this was the actual war that He Who Remained had promised him. A war inside himself every time he saw you and you didn’t recognize him one bit. Didn’t remember the fight you’d put up for Mobius to keep him around, didn’t remember the adventures you’d been on with him. “Please don’t hurt me.” You mumbled and it was then that Loki realized that this you was different from the others. You were younger, the emotions you usually kept steeled away were present on your face, the main one being fear. He took a cautious step toward you “I could never hurt you.” He mumbled, looking into your confused eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again but before he could he was being ripped away once more, his hand reaching out to you as if you could save him.
“Where the hell do you think you’ve been?” Your voice echoed down the hallway as you marched up to Loki, looking decidedly pissed. “Darling-“ He started but you stopped him before he could get to far. “I stuck my neck out for you and then you escape?” You huffed, arms crossed over your chest. “I should’ve just let Mobius kill you after your little movie but no, I felt bad, and this is what it gets me.” You paused for a moment in your rant “And stop calling me darling, it isn’t going to win you any brownie points.” It must’ve been his first day he realized a little too late as you began to slip cuffs over his wrists and drag him back to the room he was held in. “You’ve got the wrong guy.” He tried to explain but even he didn’t know if he would be able to talk his way out of this one. “Oh, so there’s some other you running around wearing the exact same clothes doing the exact same thing as you?” You raised a brow as you shoved him into the room. “Honestly, for the god of lies, I thought you’d be better at the whole talking your way out of things. I mean seriously ‘you’ve got the wrong guy,’ I’m not a child Loki.” You mocked his voice as best you could and he couldn’t help the small smirk that came to his lips, remembering the other times you’d done it in far less serious matters. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like wha-“ “Loki?! LOKI! What the hell!?” You looked down at the cuffs that had fallen to the floor and sent a message to Mobius that Loki was still at large.
You were walking out of the war room the next time he spotted you “Y/n, I don’t have time to explain but you know me and I need your help.” “I know I know you?” You looked at him confused “I’m more concerned about the whole appearing in front of me as a stringy flesh monster.” Loki breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around you “I love you darling, please don’t forget me again.” He paused for a moment pulling away to look at you “Stringy flesh monster?” “I’d say that’s a good way of putting it.” Mobius piped up from behind you.
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cleo-fox · 2 months
Text
Daylight
Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here). A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.
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The sunlight wakes you the next morning.
It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.
Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.
That seems more likely.
You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that. 
The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.
But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.
You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.
You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.
Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.
“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.
“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”
“Really? That was rude of him.”
“Very.”
He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”
Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.
7:38 am.
“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”
Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”
“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”
You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”
“I’d never,” he says.
“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”
You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”
You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.
“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.
“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”
You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.
You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.
You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.
“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.
“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.
“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”
He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”
“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”
His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.
“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit
You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.
“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”
“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”
You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in. 
“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”
Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.
Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.
“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”
Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”
He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.
You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.
“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.
It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.
The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying. 
You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.
“All right?” he asks softly.
You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.
It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.
“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.
Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.
But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.
It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.
The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.
Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).
But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.
“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.
“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.
“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”
You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.
“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”
You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.
“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”
You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.
You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.
His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.
It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.
“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.
He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”
You grin. “Not even a little?”
He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”
His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”
He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”
“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.
The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.
The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.
“You are way too good at this,” you say.
“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”
“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”
He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”
“We’ll see.”
The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.
His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again. 
“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.
“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.
“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.
“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”
“We are already running late—”
“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”
“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”
“I’ve waited so long, darling.”
“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.
“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.
You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.
Fuck. 
You are definitely going to have sex again.
His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.
“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”
And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.
It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.
Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.
He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”
You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”
He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”
“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.
Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”
“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”
He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”
“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. “How long has he been raging against the machine?”
“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.
“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”
Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”
“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.
Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”
Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.
“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”
“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”
“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”
You blink at him. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.
“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.” 
“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”
“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.
“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”
Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”
Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It’s not exactly rocket science.”
You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”
“You’re taking his side?”
You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”
It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.
“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.
You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”
“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”
“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”
“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”
“To sleep?” you tease. 
“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”
The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.
You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”
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anundyingfidelity · 7 months
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plZ give me the tva loki x reader fics for season 2 !!!!
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hail-brod · 6 months
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A Chance and Beyond (2)
Previous chapter: (Chapter 1)
Next chapter: (Chapter 3)
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Loki x FReader
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Warning/s: I think none
WC: 2.8k
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Just a simple and lighthearted conversation with the Sorcerer Supreme that actually seemed too off-putting and...Strange. But at least you got to bond with a certain God. Or Gods? Also, information-prying is now a thing and you can't really refuse.
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One of the things that you've learned so far in this time-reality is that their Loki is too... complacent.
At least too complacent than the one in your timeline.
But that sense of familiarity waving through you when you meet his observing gaze, albeit without the light-hearted glimmer that you're accustomed to, was proving to be hard to admit. In your chest, a pang of sadness dwells. Serving as another reminder that everyone you've known and grew up with are existent nowhere and you're the only one left with memories of a whole reality.
You try to choke it up like a habit that you just realize you often do.
For the meantime, do focus on what's ahead. You tell yourself.
Out of nowhere, you took notice of the sound of a slight clattering beside you only to see a tray with a meal that for a few seconds, you thought was unreal, until you did inhale the smell that brought your appetite to escalate. How long has it been since you've eaten? Now that you think about it, you have only been scraping for one of those Midgardian dessert bars in some other timeline before the time-slip incident. And not to mention, you've managed to even consider stealing at least one decent meal from a place filled with young Midgardian people.
Well, you did steal by disguising yourself as one of them but the catch is—the meal wasn't so decently normal. It was ungratifying.
What Midgardians feed to their younglings is starting to concern you. And what also concerns you is how the meal before you is looking better than the ones they feed children.
What is wrong with this realm?
"I take it you're not fond of human food?" you turn to look and you see Strange outside of your cell, one hand lifted as if he had just motioned for something.
"It's not that..." you start. "Well, perhaps, a bit so just recently but this would suffice. Unless, this is added with something else meant to annihilate me."
Strange cranks his head to the side with his eyes still darted on you. "None of the sort."
You try to dig in but you halted in the process, feeling that the sorcerer has something else to say. For a few moments, you gave each other time to think before Strange spoke again. "You are an Asgardian sorcerer just like your Young Prince. Or is he not a prince in your so-called reality?"
You eye him with just a tinge of caution. "Why? Are you worried that I'll do the mistake of 'one wrong step'? Because I don't intend to end up somewhere else when-"
Your body distorts.
Eyes tightly shut, you open it and brought your eyes back at his now frowning face. "-...Precisely."
He looked hesitant to continue but he did so anyway. "You seem to know some of us. Or rather, who and what they are made out to be. You know of their endeavors and previous deeds. I'm afraid you'd have to elaborate more of your hidden knowledge for us to trust you since it doesn't seem so reassuring that someone like you knows what you shouldn't be knowing." he says, but the way he averted his eyes from your words just proved your suspicions.
"Or what do you intend to do if I don't?" you retort, almost so with a hint of softness in your tone as you call out. "...Loki."
You didn't eye his form any longer and indulged yourself at just the sight of your meal, getting colder as the seconds pass by. It was easy to discern for you that the God of Mischief was the one conversing with you the moment he wavered his eyes when you mentioned about being like him and deemed him as someone prone to doing 'the wrong step'.
If you know someone well enough, then it's never hard to rile them up like old friends. You almost brought a small smile up at the thought of breaking up one of his many facade.
"I beg- Excuse me?" you hear him ask, making the mistake of blurting out the phrase you've heard him say a thousand times in your life. Perhaps, a million times you'd wager. I beg your pardon? You mock him in your head.
"You're through." you reply as you made the turn to glance at him, still in his disguise as the Midgardian sorcerer. Though, you didn't miss the irritation that he so desperately tried to hide. One thought came to you and you did just that. Lifting a single hand in front of you, you amass the feeling of magic before flicking your wrist in his direction which diffused the illusion of his disguise. He didn't even managed to react in time as his hands were only inches away from his sides, too late to counter.
His expression tell every bit of what he felt. Contorting to shock, confusion, and appalled in just mere moments before he narrowed his eyes to you with great annoyance.
You fight the urge to give out a grin of triumph. You don't want to cause a sorcerous scene now, do you? Even though you'd perfectly win when pitted against him.
"I..." he starts, though his expression fades to a tamer one, completely dissipating any traces of annoyance, but you're sure the prickling rage is still there. "..am going to allow that."
He is mad. Truly. You shut your lips tight.
You certainly have to remember that this is a Loki that did not know you. This is someone who's willing to strangle you up without any restraints or glare at you with the utmost intent of murder and not with tease.
Yet, it still does shock you how he manages to control his temper and be intimidating at the same time.
"Pardon me." you humbled him. "But trying to deceive me into telling you what I'm clearly obligated to tell Strange is not pardoned."
"I don't trust you."
"Don't you all?"
"I don't trust you more than they do."
You glanced at him as you lightheartedly say. "Of course..."
He's Loki. A God who betrays, a God who cannot be trusted, a God who cannot bear to trust. Back in your timeline, he had that very definition amongst the people of Asgard. But when you befriended him, you saw him in a different light and witnessed him grow into someone different from everything they had known him for. Someone who was able to believe in others.
But at this moment, which is which? For a fact that he's with the Avengers, maybe he's someone more different. You cannot be too sure.
"You speak as if you truly know me." Loki voices out. "Who are you?"
Your heart numbs, bringing your attention away from his stern expression. "Like I said, an Asgardian from a different reality."
"I did not ask what you are. You have much secrets to tell if you keep stalling your answers like that."
"Well, you did say you did not trust me. Explicitly. How can you trust the words that you demand me to utter? Now that you ought to deny my own words to your question."
It took him some time before answering with a narrowed stare. "Clever... but, you don't really give me the sensible answers that I deem fitting to believe."
"Fair enough." you nod.
At that given time, you caught on his change expression from disapproval to a blank one. You resisted the urge to just chuckle with much jolly at the interaction. One that perfectly felt like nostalgia and you can't help but strain a small smile at nowhere in particular.
A sudden cough brought you back to a pair of crystalline blue eyes which was Loki's. "You seem to find something funny."
"Forgive me," you lightly apologize. "I got distracted." he then eyed you suspiciously, but not as fierce as it came out to be. Oddly, he hums in acknowledgement.
"I think it's best that I end it here. Having you distracted and... " he says, moving to turn around but not without a one last glance at you. "...and starving and all, won't be of use to me."
For some other reason, you feel dread.
Don't go.
"Wait." you let out. He did stop, moving his body to the side as he looks at you with a raised brow. "Eat with me?"
The moment you grinned at him teasingly when his eyes faltered with a slight shock, to which he immediately masked with a fierce dead look, was when you heard something clatter behind you only to see that the tray of food was gone.
As well as Loki.
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Thank the Norns that somehow the tray was given back to you but instead of Loki materializing it back, it was a Midgardian-dressed Thor who came strutting in with the said food.
Along with him was, surely, the real Doctor Strange.
The two men didn't miss the way you abruptly stood up from your position the moment they came into view. For a second there, they looked alarmed at your actions, sensing that something must've happened. But when you intently eyed the tray on Thor's grasp with such eagerness, they realized the relieved expression you had.
Strange cocks a brow at you then at the meal before landing back to you. "You must be famished."
"That is an understatement." you almost mumble, awkwardly avoiding his stare.
"Then you are fortunate, my lady." Thor says. You were quite taken aback when he gives you a radiant smile. "I have here a Midgardian delicacy, made from the, uh... whatever it is they put in there to hopefully appease your needs." he then lifts it up to emphasize.
It took you a moment before you gave him a smile. Softness radiates in your chest as you take a deeper realization. His upbringing in this reality is...
"Thank you." you reply.
You didn't miss the way his smile falters at your look. Spotting a sentiment that you can't quite point out.
The other left man speaks. "This must be what they call the kinship between Asgardians." Strange watches the interaction with crossed arms, a steady expression adorning his face. "Unfortunately, as much as I want you both to catch up, kin-to-kin, I have matters to discuss regarding the threat you may pose," he looks at you. "and the knowledge we might need."
From a carefree smile to a frown, Thor sets his attention to Strange. "Yes, of course, but let her eat first."
The said man rolls his eye before turning his feet to walk to a darker corner, almost somewhere you can't see and.... he busies himself with magic. It was clear that the wizard was in a stingy mood and you could only slightly quirk up in amusement.
"Sorry about that." Thor sets the tray somewhere in the wall outside your cell as it soon juts out in a corner near you. Ah, technology. Before you could rush to it, you look at Thor.
"There's no need for that, but again, thank you."
"It's a pleasure to be of service."
Taking the tray out from the wall, you turn to him, chuckling. "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
You immediately regret it when his expression completely falls, gaze no longer on you. It felt truly odd for you to see him revert to that look. Not that you ever saw him that way in this time-reality but when you witnessed the kind of smile he had, you can't help but ache seeing him forlorn in a way.
And you can't help but also miss the brief light you'd seen in his eyes. Something cracks in you.
"I'm sorry." you start. "Was I wrong?"
"No no, you're fine. I just..." he says, hesitance in his tone. "I should be better."
You look at him in question, tilting your head to the side. Nonetheless, he didn't gave you a chance to reply as he continued. "Anyway, you enjoy your meal." he nods. "I've kept you long enough seeing that you've been undoubtedly eager to dine."
He gave you one last smile that immediately disappears as he fumbles with his fingers, looking uncertain. You bring out at least a bit of optimism by faintly giggling albeit feeling the embarrassment at his remarks of your starving manner. But you don't dwell further.
"Company is fine. You are not particularly unpleasant to be around as it may seem." you inform him. "Unlike someone else cruel enough to take what's not rightfully his." you mumble the last part, though it did not fall on deaf ears.
"Who is?" Thor quirks up with a frown.
"Oh, nothing. Just someone I know."
"I.. I see." he utters. "Seems like someone I would also know."
You catch each other's eyes as you both break out in smiles. But soon, his brows creases in realization. His eyes go wide when he did. "Loki?" you lightly laugh at him as he speaks again. "What...? Did he visit you here or something? Has he done anything to you?"
"You have nothing to be worried about." you try to ease him. "Just a short talk."
"If it's Loki then it's never a good talk even if it's short."
"Valid."
"So was it bad? Perhaps unbearable?" he asks.
You glance at your meal, recalling the interaction with the raven-haired God as you muse. Fondness leaks out of you. "Yes..." you reply. "Unbearable."
Though, before Thor could retort at your worrisome response, you strain out a small smile. All words die at his throat. But conflict was clear in his expression.
"Thor?" you call as he turns his eyes back to you, trying to hide a tinge of his discomfort. This time, you smile at him with the same radiance you had seen on him earlier. "You're more than better." you say before gobbling your awaiting Midgardian delicacy to your heart's content.
Unbeknownst to you, the said God breaks his composure for split second as he gazes at you in pain and in wonder.
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"You seem fine." Strange observes you, ambling his way near your transparent cell. "No toss and turning of your skin whatsoever."
Actually, he has a point. After you had finish your meal with Thor lightly chatting with you as he sat somewhere near you cell, there was no instance of time-slipping. Even when during your conversation with his younger brother, excluding the first one you had at the start, you were no longer breaking ap-
Your body starts to break apart and distort.
"Or not." you reply to him.
You shut your eyes tightly as you feel your frustration build up at the thought of this misery. But you also consider the clawing fact that if you had stopped time-slipping, you'll remain in this time-reality forever. You wouldn't say you dislike where you are but you don't think it's beneficial to stay in a branched timeline when your entourage of TVA companions are risking their lives for... well, everything.
You see Strange furrow his brows as if he just crossed something out of his thoughts. "Alright, something's different." he says, he lifts a chin to stare at you. "When was the last time you time-slipped?"
Hesitating, you answer. "Uh, well... a few moments prior to your arrival with Thor?"
"And? Did anything happen that might cause this?" he asks.
"I... don't think so?"
He narrows his eyes at you. "Mhm." he then turns away to the side, inhaling. "Let's see what you have to say then."
One moment and in a blink of an eye, you find yourself adjusting in a much darker lighting and with grey walls. Very contrasting from where you were just a second ago. But the space was much smaller, almost cramped at your sides although enough for two people to fit with a decent amount of space. You were seated on a cold metallic chair and in front of you was the man responsible for all this.
"Well," you start, disoriented. "this is much preferable than falling."
"You don't really have a choice when you're a prisoner here." he casually says, feeling as if you can get use to his very stern mannerisms. "Now," he slowly struts towards you. "Why travel in time in the first place? I know you said it's not time-travelling and you never really mentioned what exactly it is but what's the motive there?"
"Ah..." you breathe in as you try to hold his stare. "Yes, you're right. Not time-travelling... in a way, and this is purely not within my whims." you begin slowly, looking him dead in the eye with concern and anticipation. "If I tell you this, there's no going back."
He holds his gaze, staring down at you. But you didn't miss the rising of his chest, inhaling, preparing. "The point of no return is something I already encompassed."
At that, you tell him. "Let's start with the TVA."
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Previous chapter: (Chapter 1)
Next chapter: (Chapter 3)
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
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Ko-fi?
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lokisbiiiitch1993 · 6 months
Text
Loki and his Shadow Magic my Smutty thoughts
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Minors 🚨⚠️🔞 DNI
As I saw this Scene my thoughts were all over the Place - omg - soo many Ideas💡
I am already convinced Loki has magical Fingers and an supernatural glorious Dick
But his Shadow Magic Play all the Possibilitys
He wouldn't even need ropes to tie you up he could just hold you with his Shadow
If the Shadow can hold you can it fuck you too 🤔
You could suck Loki's Dick and the Shadow fingers you
Loki could take you from behind and his Shadow rubs your clit
or when Loki goes down on you and sucks your Clit the Shadow could play with your Tits
He could use the Shadow as an Blindfold on you
Loki demands you to spread your Legs wide open and the Shadow hold them in place
Imagine double penetration
Loki watches you as you get pleasured by his Shadow
You watch as Loki gets jerked off by his Shadow
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"Time & the Trickster"- MASTERLIST A MCU/Doctor Who crossover
by ijuststareatstuffhereok89
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One last-ditch effort to prevent his total sacrifice at the TVA sends Loki careening through the Timelines until he finds what may be the strangest one of all: one where there is only one Realm, gods and heroes are but the subjects of stories, and Loki is nothing more than a silly character played by a rather dashing actor. His only hope comes in the form of the first person he meets, who suggests a mysterious mad Doctor might be his only chance to return home. 
PAIRING: eventual Loki x Reader, hinted Ten x Rose Tyler GENRE: Time-Travel Adventure, Romance, Some Smut CONTENT WARNING (DNI, 18+ ONLY): some elements of smut, character betrayal, anti-Sylvie, more to come
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Prologue: The Stone 1- A Birthday Surprise 2- Window to the World 3- The Doctor and I 4- The Magic I Can Do 5- Boston 6- Two If By Sea 7- A Titanic Setback 8- For Now 9- Look Up 10- Green Sky in the Morning 11- London 12- The Three Time Lords 13- Those of Us Left Behind 14- Sylvie's Choice 15- Journey's End Epilogue: Goddess of Stories --Coming Soon!
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Working for the TVA meant you met a lot of cocky arrogant know it all variants but when it came to this Loki he was the worse. Both you and B-15 were taking bets on who got to prune him first, so far, she was winning.
Loki stood like a good boy next to the so-called Hunter b-15 as she drabbled on about something with Mobius, Loki's attention was focused elsewhere, that elsewhere was you. He notes the way the amour molded to your body perfectly. It shaped you hips, ass and breasts greatly. He also noted you were one of the few that refused to wear that ridiculous helmet and he was glad, he loved watching your hair fly round freely when you were kicking ass, or the way it flowed when you were storming up to him to give your two cents.
He always found a way to piss you off just so he had a reason to talk to you, he craved the attention you bestowed upon him even in the short bursts, he remembered every single one.
You glance over to the Trickster God and notice him staring. You roll your eyes, not again. You saw the way the shadows made his face look perfectly evil and you couldn't not help but feel your body react in a way that would end with you getting pruned if anyone found out.
The glance didn't go unnoticed by Loki, he smirked when his eyes locked with yours for the quickest second and darted away. Shortly after the group departed, Hunter went with Mobius, leaving you Loki alone in the room. Without saying anything you turn your heel and leave, but you hear him follow you. " Am I that bad you must leave my presence immediately? Or is there another reason, say you can't be trusted around me by yourself." You chuckle at him, and turn quickly, forcing him to stop and you to go straight into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, and it felt like bliss for a second, but you quickly tried pushing yourself out of his grip, his arms tighten. Loki looks down at you, eyes locking, he can feel your heart beating faster, he notes you are softer than all he imagined. Your body fits his perfectly. You try to speak but the words are struggling to come out. You don't want to admit it, but it feels so nice to have him wrapped around you. "Cat got your tongue Y/N?" His voice husky with need. "No?" He starts moving your bodies into a dark hidden corner of the TVA hallway. Loki moves his face closer to your, " I think you like this don't you Y/N. I can read you like one of Mobius's magazines, you want me just as much I want you. " You threw caution to the wind and wrapped your arms around his neck, making him come closer and kissed him. He just admitted the feelings were mutual. You feel him deepen the kiss, tongues clashing, he started grinding his length into you. You moan at the sensation, very soon you both are heavily breathing with want and need. Neither of you notice the figure behind the wall. Hunter B-15 peeks around the corner and smiles, gives two big thumbs up to Mobius and walks away.
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wheredafandomat · 6 months
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I had to quickly think of this to quell my tears 😭😭
Imagine Loki basically time slipping into your bed before the end 🤣🤣
18+ contains smut wk 600
“What just happened?” You asked, breaking the kiss and opening your eyes as you noticed Loki pause for a moment as a strange feeling engulfed you for a second before dissipating. “Loki?” You questioned, eyes narrowing in confusion at his perplexed yet frantic expression.
“I-I know what I have to do” he finally spoke, mostly to himself as he looked past you in thought.
“Loki, what’s the matter? What’s wrong?” You pleaded, worried now as you held his cheeks in your hands.
“Oh y/n” he began, eyes finally meeting yours as a fond smile spread across his face “how I’ve missed you” he exhaled before pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. Despite your confusion, considering the fact that you were both in bed where you had been the past hour, you kissed him back with the same enthusiasm. His grip around you tightened as he pulled you flush against him. He barely broke the kiss and when he did, his lips ventured across your face making you smile even more.
“What’s gotten into you?” You giggled.
“I just—I need to be close to you right now” he answered sincerely.
There was something almost unreadable about the look in his eyes. He looked mournful, sad. He looked broken, beaten up, fractured. Strangely you felt like this wasn’t the same Loki you had been snuggled up in bed with for the past hour, this Loki was subdued, mentally maimed. Only one thing remained, he was yours.
“I’m here” you answered, kissing him “I’m here” you repeated as he chased the kiss “I’m here Loki” you affirmed as he gently pushed you back against the bed, not breaking the kiss as he positioned himself above you, caging you between him and the bed almost protectively. His tongue moved against yours languidly as if he was savoring the kiss, like you didn’t have millions more to come.
It didn’t take long for him to line himself up with your entrance before pushing inside of you slowly, both of you panting against each other as he entered you. He was still, enjoying the feeling of your walls gripping him as he sucked against your tongue. You widened your legs, lifting your hips a little telling him he could move but he didn’t, he stayed like that, kissing you.
“Why does this feel like goodbye?” You eventually asked as he kissed your forehead. Instead of answering, Loki moved his hips, thrusting in and out of you as you clung onto him, one of your arms around his back.
Your words were forgotten between moans and praises as Loki fucked you. He felt so near, so intimate. If his lips were not against yours they were on your neck. You could hear the headboard hitting the wall, a sign that Loki was growing desperate, that he was close. Baring his teeth, Loki closed his eyes as he chased his pleasure feeling your walls tighten around his length.
“I’m so close, don’t stop” you begged, reaching your climax as it tore through you, leaving you shaking as Loki continued to move.
“I love you” he averred as he reached his peak, movements stilling as he came inside of you.
The feeling of something dripping onto your cheek caused you to open your eyes before you realised it was a tear. Loki’s tear. Suddenly your bygone words met your lips again.
“Why does this feel like goodbye?” You asked again, on the verge of tears yourself at his emotion.
“Because I have to protect you y/n, I have to protect everyone” he cleared his throat, biting down his emotion.
“No, Loki, please” you pleaded sadly “please?”
“I’m so sorry, I love you, always” he tried to smile, albeit sadly as you began to fade away, nothing but embers.
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