The palace gardens of Asgard stretched for acres beneath the golden cliffs, filled with flowering trees, winding stone paths, and streams that glittered in the afternoon sun.
Loki rarely came there for the flowers.
At least, that was what he told himself.
He sat beneath an old willow tree with a book open across his lap, pretending to read while a warm breeze stirred the pages. Across from him, seated barefoot in the grass, Jennie Aldwyn dipped her paintbrush into a small tin of water and tilted her head thoughtfully at the landscape before her.
A strand of brown hair slipped across her face.
Without looking up, she tucked it behind her ear.
Loki found himself smiling.
He immediately stopped.
"Have you read a single page in the last ten minutes?"
Her voice was light and teasing.
"I have read several."
"You've been on the same page since I sat down."
Loki glanced at the book.
To his annoyance, she was correct.
Jennie's grin widened.
"I knew it."
"You know nothing."
"I know you're a terrible liar."
"That is slander."
She laughed.
The sound drifted through the garden like birdsong.
Loki looked away before she could notice he was staring.
Again.
Across the lawn, a familiar booming voice echoed between the trees.
"There you are!"
Thor appeared a moment later, broad-shouldered and grinning, carrying an apple he had almost certainly stolen from the palace kitchens.
His eyes moved from Loki to Jennie.
Then back to Loki.
A knowing smile spread across his face.
"Oh."
Loki immediately frowned.
"What?"
Thor pointed dramatically between them.
"This."
"This what?"
"This."
Jennie rolled her eyes.
"Thor."
"You spend more time together than married couples."
"We are not a married couple."
"I didn't say you were."
Thor took a large bite of the apple.
"I'm simply observing."
"Observe somewhere else."
Thor laughed so loudly several birds scattered from a nearby tree.
"You know," he continued, "Father asked where Loki was this morning."
Loki felt immediate dread.
"And?"
"I said, 'Have you checked where Jennie is?'"
Jennie burst out laughing.
Thor pointed triumphantly.
"And I was right."
"I hate both of you."
"No, you don't," Jennie said.
The irritating thing was that she was right.
Thor eventually wandered off, still laughing to himself, leaving the two of them alone once more.
Silence settled comfortably between them.
It always did.
That was the strange thing about Jennie.
Loki never felt the need to perform around her.
He didn't have to be clever.
Or impressive.
Or princely.
He could simply exist.
Jennie set down her brush and stretched her legs into the grass.
She wasn't wearing shoes.
She rarely did when she could avoid it.
Loki glanced downward.
"You're barefoot again."
She looked offended.
"I am always barefoot."
"You'll step on something."
"I won't."
"You absolutely will."
"I've managed eighteen years without catastrophe."
"A miracle."
She laughed and stood, brushing grass from her dress.
"Come on."
"Where?"
"Walk with me."
Loki eyed the grass suspiciously.
"I'm wearing boots."
"You'll survive."
Before he could object, she grabbed his hand and pulled.
Loki stumbled forward.
"Jennie—"
She was already laughing.
The sound echoed through the gardens as she dragged him away from the path and into the tall grass.
For a moment, Loki considered protesting.
Then he looked at her.
Sunlight filtered through her wavy brown hair. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief, and she looked happier than anyone he had ever known.
The protest died before it reached his lips.
Instead, he followed.
As always.
What neither of them noticed was the cluster of tiny white flowers blooming in the grass where Jennie's bare feet touched the earth.
Or perhaps Jennie noticed.
Perhaps she always noticed.
She simply never said anything.
The secret had lived inside her for years.
Ever since childhood.
Ever since the first time flowers had bloomed in her hands when she cried.
The first time golden light had flickered beneath her fingertips.
The first time the forest had answered when she called.
She had never told anyone.
Not Thor.
Not her parents.
Not even Loki.
Especially not Loki.
The thought of him looking at her differently terrified her more than the magic itself.
So she buried it.
And hoped no one would ever discover the truth.
Unfortunately, Loki had always been far too observant for his own good.
Over the years he had noticed small things.
Flowers blooming a little faster when she was nearby.
Birds landing beside her without fear.
Branches bending toward her as if greeting an old friend.
Little things.
Impossible things.
Enough to make him wonder.
But never enough to make him ask.
Because if Jennie had a secret, she would tell him when she was ready.
Until then, he would wait.
Even if it took forever.
The afternoon sunlight turned everything gold as they walked through the gardens together.
Neither of them noticed the palace servants smiling as they passed.
Or the guards exchanging knowing looks.
Or the noblewomen whispering behind their fans.
Asgard had already made up its mind.
The only two people who hadn't were the prince and the girl walking beside him.
Though, if Loki were being honest with himself, he was beginning to suspect his heart had made up its mind years ago.
Summary: You are of royal blood, having chosen to leave home and your sworn responsibilities for a much, simpler life. Hiding for years as one of Asgard’s servants, the second prince of Asgard has taken interest in you being his primary target for his mischief and chaos; However, his behavior seemed to take a drastic turn when he has found out about your true identity. Perhaps this could be his ticket for gaining a throne after all! He just needs to convince you to marry him and forgive his constant years of teasing and torment.
Rating: R (Dark Elements!)
Note: the wonderful @darknessawaits28 had helped me RP a handful of the chapters to help solidify a skeleton for this piece and i couldn't be more happier of how it turned out!!! Thank you my love!!
Theme Song: ALWAYS BEEN YOU by Chris Grey
Your hands flinched away from the rag as your scrubbing motion seemed to disagree against one of your hand’s soft spots. You supposed even after three years of this type of labor, you couldn't quite get rid of your signs of upbringing, being a royal and all..
Royal.
You huffed at the very thought of it and tried to push the very memories away from bombarding your focused duties. Although being a servant amongst Asgard’s palace wasn't necessarily a treat, it had to be way better than the fate that has been bestowed upon you as Princess.
Whoever thought of arranged marriages clearly had no respect for themselves.
In all honesty, you were surprised your parents hadn't found you. There was no doubt that they would have looked- you were their only heir after all and their only option for taking upon the throne if your father were to pass.. But of course you wouldn't have been taking it alone. One look at their chosen stud already began formulating your plan to escape.
Prince Del was the name- if you could even call that a name for a prince, let alone a future king. He was handsome, yes, but upon your first session in hopes to begin courting, you had already figured out the marriage would have been even less than tolerating. He was rude, selfish, a know-it all- and a womanizer. Even as you sat before him in your finest dress, jewels and hair done- he had wandering eyes for any female that passed- servants and all.
That was years ago.. Three to be exact and you’d rather scrub this floor everyday than live a lifetime being married to one who would bring your realm to shame while there being nothing you could do about it. At least with you gone, your home would be safe and continuously ruled by your father- the only one capable of doing a proper job of things and although he’s trained you well to do the same in his footsteps..
There was no way in Hel you’d do it being married to an idiot.
Was it selfish? Leaving your home and its responsibilities just because you didn't want to be saddled to an oaf? No.. by leaving, you were keeping your home safe.. And you were sure your parents would figure out something before their time would come.. You were willing to bet they were still searching for you, not willing to take on anyone else in your place- preserving the royal line- but it was strange for there being no signs of them showing up here or news..
After year two, you stopped being paranoid that you’d be snatched from here and gradually accepted the fact that you were now Asgardian. Well.. not exactly. Your species passed off as one, but your perfume had to mask your scent so they wouldn't detect that you were of another species. They were animalistic like that..
Shaking your head, you began scrubbing much harder and faster in hopes to distract yourself from the imposing memories.. Though the gods could be very cruel when they got involved and sent you in that moment the one distraction you didn't want.
His slow footsteps became recognizable without you having to so much as turn around anymore while those eyes felt like they were burning holes in the back of your head- roaming lustfully over the rest of you after because.. Well- he could.
Loki.
His pace indicated one not wanting to be bothered yet still held the grace of a royal. Second prince of Asgard, to be exact, who’s cape flowed behind him and the horned crowd framed his brow as it indicated a position of power.
Power.. Power wasn't enough.. He needed a throne, and he was running out of time.
Thor was currently gone on mission, granting him time to think of how to keep him gone while also figuring out how to gain the first position in line for the throne.
Options were thin at the moment..
What normally would ease his mind was teasing his favorite little servant, where you stayed diligent in your work and seemed to work harder than those having been here far longer. That is, unless he was distracting you from your duties for his sere amusement but thus far with the troubles he’s been dealing with in his dilemma, his antics have gotten a bit crueler.
He couldn't bring himself to pity you though, not even as you flinched your hand away again and held it to your chest with undoubtedly another cut. He paid it no thought, but found it strange how you hadn't gotten a complete handle on going about things without some type of injury- as subtle as you tried to make it seem but.. After all these years of repetitive work, it was almost as if you weren't built completely for this job.
Yet here you remained and here you would stay. After all, it only fed more reason to bother you while he seemed to mock pout where he stood behind.
‘’And here I'd expect these tiles to be clean by now. Come now Y/N, is it still that difficult to get a knack for things within the generous time you’ve been given here?”
You held back an exhale of frustrations while you sat on your heels, not necessarily wanting to continue being on your hands and knees when the prince was standing quite close behind you. You had no idea why he had felt the need to take his frustrations out on you all this time- let alone making you a target to rid of his boredom. Not that you’d wish anyone any hardships but you hardly found him bothering the others. Why you?
‘’My apologies my prince,’’ you started, turning to look at him over your shoulder but the dirt he tracked in from his boots- leaving a hard to miss trail behind him made your response change to something with hidden bitterness. ‘’The floor just keeps getting dirty.’’
Loki rolled his eyes as if it were a dumb excuse, knowing fully well what had appeared behind him that you eyed painfully. ‘’See to it that it gets finished before the afternoon meal. I’d hate for you to have to tend to cleaning my boots because of your unreliable timing.’’ though, cleaning his boots didn't seem displeasing to him..
‘’I will have it finished.’’ you gave him a low bow, biting back many choice words while you unclench your fists from your dress- a habit you hardly noticed you did until the first sounds of fabric ripping. ‘’Will that be all?”
You left the question as a means to wrap this up, figuring a long time ago it was better to go along with his antics rather than give him the reaction he was searching for. He got off on it and quite frankly, you were in no position to speak back to him. Talking back to a royal, stepping out of line by any means, was punishable. If only he knew who you truly were, you would have loved getting up in his face and even tipping the bucket of water on those damn boots who were to blame. Instead, you stood still, expressionless and waiting for him to hopefully make his leave.
By watching you bow, Loki got a sense of gratification- knowing that no matter what he did, you’ll always be his perfect little play thing, obedient to his mischief until he finally broke you. Oftentimes he would get you there- nothing punishable severely, but enough to add on your already frustrated demeanor. It was almost as if.. Someone else was having a worse day, his ultimately seemed better.
‘’Make yourself more presentable. We have standards in the palace, and i will not have you looking like we just take anyone in off the streets.’’ he said sharply, tapping a finger on his cheek to indicate the dirt that had barely gotten onto your face while strolling past you, using his other hand close to his face to send a flicker of magic to tip over the bucket of water.
You yelped and instantly stood up, already feeling the water seep into your dress while trying to rub at your cheek with your sleeve. Your heart pounded, anger twisting in your chest while you tried to remain in control but you couldn't help but shoot the glare towards the sauntering prince who smirked at you over his shoulder.
‘’My apologies darling, it would seem my magic has been.. Misbehaving lately.’’ he dramatically sighed as if he couldn't help it before he continued off, leaving you to clean up his mess.
You muttered under your breath as you wiped your cheek as best you could, blindly before squeezing out the skirts of your dress. At this point, you’d have to start over to get his footprints but also the now dirty water that began spreading amongst the floor.
‘’If he can’t even treat his people right in the position he has now, then norns help us if he does become king..’’
~
‘’Here, let me help you with that- I've finished most of my chores early,’’ Delilah offered, scampering to catch up while you carried the empty bucket of water down the dirt path to fill it up at the water pump.
You couldn't help but smile yet shook your head in dismay. Delilah was another servant amongst the palace, and a dear friend who strived to take care of you against Loki’s wrath as you did to her- as less harsh as he was to the others.
‘’I appreciate it my friend but something tells me he’s got an eye out on this particular assignment so it’s safer i see it through to the end.’’
Delilah groaned and walked besides you anyway with the shake of her head. ‘’It’s not fair.. why is he so much crueler to you? Gods if only we could speak to All Mother-’’
‘’You know this is normal treatment from the royals, and Loki would just weasel his way from the truth to make it seem like his actions were merely a jest or something,’’ you shook your head, keeping your voice low while you looked at her seriously. ‘’Though I would heed what you say about the prince, we’re not too sure of his powers and I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if you were punished just by trying to reassure me.. He’s troubled but i think he just needs proper guidance..’’
Your eyes glanced over your shoulder towards the palace, exhaling deeply at the mere thought and shook off your own memories of what royal stresses could make you unintentionally do towards others. ‘’..Though it's probably hard to do when the All Father has two sons to take care of and the realms..’’
‘’You need not defend him Y/N, he already has his mother to do that,’’ Delilah teased with her voice low, pulling a smile out of you that nearly had you cover your mouth.
‘’Hush Delilah and let me work,’’ you giggled and finally set the bucket down upon reaching the water pump.
It was an older model, probably kept to keep the servants humble and working where you’d have to constantly pump the lever until water spilled out- filling the trough below. Then, you’d dunk the bucket into the trough and fill it up. It would be easy if there wasn't so much upper body strength involved- something you always had a hard time maintaining and wished you could ask your friend for help if the risks were not too high.
‘’By the way, you're going to have to pump the lever a little slower this time. Whoever used it last, must have done something to mess it up.’’ Delilah shook her head with the roll of her eyes. ‘’It was probably that foolish stable boy.’’
‘’Oh leave him alone, he’s new.’’ you laugh before moving over to the level, stretching your limbs before you would begin. ‘’See you at the evening festival?”
Delilah laughed and crossed her arms. ‘’You make it seem like we are there to enjoy ourselves rather than work.’’
‘’Perhaps one day,’’ you shrugged, offering empty hopes but the dreams are what helped the two of you keep a peaceful mind. It would be fun one day just to feast, drink and dance.
‘’Right.’’ Delilah laughed sarcastically before offering a goodbye wave and scurried off to head towards the kitchens.
Your demeanor slowly changed from cheerful, to determination while you wrung out your hands to prepare yourself for the bullshit you were forced to do because a certain someone decided to dump your bucket. Grasping the lever firmly, you raised it up- the height having your hands stop right at your chest, before you pushed it down with effort, bending down enough where you were generously leaning forward before you were quick to raise yourself back up.
Up and down, up and down, the slow work managed to be getting a few drops in while you seemed to sweat much faster. What helped you cope was mumbling to yourself with choice curses towards the prince of Asgard and how one day perhaps the gods will give him what was coming to him.
Just as you began to watch the promising, slow flow of the water begin to spill out, remaining in your bent position to catch your breath, the feeling of two slender hands could be felt ghosting right over your hips, threatening to grasp.
You jumped so hard you nearly rammed your abdomen with the lever and spun around, wide eyed and shocked while the prince himself stood standing before you, clearly amused of your reaction he dared to have caused.
He just touched you!?
‘’My my, what a particular position you’ve chosen for yourself darling, are you perhaps trying to persuade the men around here to help you with that?” he smirked, looking upon you like you were some scared virgin while you glanced at your progress dripping away to a stop.
‘’I need no help, i am fully capable of doing it myself.’’ you ground out, your hands clutching at your dress nervously while you could still practically feel his hands ghost against your hips.
‘’Then why are you stopping?” he mocked, hands clasped behind his back as if to prove he had done nothing wrong but stand there and stood there he shall, making no effort to move away from his current position where your backside would practically pressing up against him if you were to bend again.
‘’I’m making sure you aren't in need of assistance with your presence here,’’ you said carefully, red cheeked but trying not to glare at him while you subtly demanded what he wanted.
Loki looked over the trough as if he were inspecting it before looking over you from head to toe with the shake of his head and a smirk hidden behind his intentions. ‘’Nope, no assistance. Just enjoying the lovely.. Lovely.. Outdoors today. Carry on.’’ his voice grew seductive at his hints, making your cheeks redden much more while you hesitated where he stood.
He had been cruel to you before, but never before dared touch you. It wasn't uncommon, you’ve seen him at play with the others amongst the palace who were more than willing to go along with him- often crying after- but you had never been set in his sights to be laid a finger upon.
Until now..
Clearly he wasn't going to move, and there wasn't necessarily a better angle to get into to get this damn water that was already difficult to retrieve, so you straightened yourself, jaw tense and he could see every ounce of hatred radiating off of your body while you slowly moved back in front of him. You hated giving him the reaction that he was looking for, but what were you supposed to do? If you didn't react, he might think this behavior was okay. If you reacted with anything other than hatred- gods forbid he would think you were liking this.
Your hands wrapped around the lever with so much tightness, you were almost picturing it being his throat while you could hear the low chuckle from behind you. Drawing in a breath, you kept your eyes forward and pushed down the lever, your body following down before you’d snap yourself up as quickly as you could.
The worst part was, you couldn't hear him anymore- and you weren't going to look over your shoulder to check because all kinds of emotions were running through you right now. Your cheeks were a permanent shade of red by now and you knew you couldn't move too fast or the water would never come out- curse that stable boy.
After pumping for a solid thirty seconds, you finally felt those slender hands return to your hips, this time adding more pressure where there was no doubt he was there.
‘’Mm one would think that you are doing this on purpose..’’ Loki said seductively, almost sounding like he was right at your ear but all you felt was his hands on your hips. ‘’Are you trying to seduce the second prince of Asgard? Ensure your stay here? Earn some type of benefits hmm? Perhaps thinking you’re better than everyone else?”
Your hands clenched harder while you white knuckled the lever, pulling it up with such haste, it was almost startling. ‘’I’m trying to do no such thing-’’
‘’Are you a virgin Y/N? You get startled like one but something tells me you’ve got better skills elsewhere than what you’ve been hired to do..’’
He cut your rebuttal out of your mouth when those hands pulled you back but an inch before you felt something large, something hard pressed up right against your behind.
Heat ran all over your body before you wretched yourself out of his grip and whipped around to face him, hands- by the mercy- staying at your side to keep from punching him while your mouth ran free.
‘’Pig-!”
‘’Excuse m-!”
‘’Loki!” Frigga’s voice rang out where both of you simultaneously turned to watch as the All Mother came smiling with her handmaid’s at her heels. ‘’I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
ON AO3 :D
Note: Not me having to write this chapter like.. twice until i was satisfied LOL Thank you all for your interest, support and request for a tag :D lets gooooo!
Taking his time to get to know everything you love, from books to movies, nothing is too small for this God.
Wanting to court you properly. As he was brought up as a prince of Asgard, he wants to treat you like his prince or princess.
Giving you compliments on the smallest things you do that he finds utterly beautiful, he isn't called a silvertongue for nothing. As the way you scrunch your eyebrows together when concentrating is just adorable to him.
Kissing your hand constantly, especially in front of the Avengers. As you trusted him when nobody else would.
Loki showing you the softer sides of his magic, especially during dates. Conquering butterflies one night while you two are having a picnic in Central Park, all to see your eyes widen in wonder.
When fighting during a mission, he keeps an eye out for you because you are one of the only reasons he chooses to stay a hero. You saved him from himself, and he'd be damned if he couldn't keep you safe.
Reading together. ALWAYS reading books together. Long series or standalone books, he doesn't care, as you have both found someone who enjoys reading as much as the other.
Pranking the Avengers together, sometimes with the help of a few other members like Kamala Khan, Peter Parker, or Yelena. Which then turns into a full-on prank war.
Taking you to Asgard to show you the Royal Achieves after months of teaching you how to read Asgardian.
Looks of longing from across the room at the beginning of the relationship, whenever you are talking with someone, and then either catching your eye with a smile or pretending to look at something else
Learning a little bit more every day that you love him despite his past and flaws. As he used to be so scared that one day you would leave him, though you never did.
Waking up every morning to him saying "Good morning, my love" and falling asleep every night to "Goodnight, my heart."
It was roughly 1:25 in the morning at the Avengers Compound, and trying to get sleep was nearly impossible at this point due to the insistent grumbling of your stomach. Begrudgingly getting out of bed as you make your way down the halls towards the kitchen. It has been a long day to say the least, especially when training with Loki started at dawn. Ever since you got into a relationship with the God of Mischief, he has been making sure that you hone your magic into something that becomes as easy as breathing. Which, in turn, has left you drained in one of the most unpleasant ways.
So here you are making waffles in the toaster at 1:30 in the morning, watching the toaster impatiently as you hear those familiar footsteps down the hall.
“And what is my lovely witch doing up without me, hmm?”, Loki asks curiously as he notices you leaning against the kitchen counter, practically glaring at the toaster.
“Making a late-night snack since my boyfriend seems to want to drain me until I can conjure a dagger in my hand without using words.” There is a slight sass to your tone as you glance at him.
“Ah, so that's what this is about. Have I been overworking you?” Slight concern laces his voice as he steps closer to you. Looking you over as his training was supposed to help and not make you feel worse for wear. “I had no intention of draining you, my lovely witch,” Loki says as he takes your hand and kisses your palm just as the waffles finish in the toaster with a *ding*.
“I know, but maybe lay off the training sessions first thing in the morning.” Chuckling softly as you plate the two waffles and reaching for the syrup, Loki hands it to you with a smile.
“Anything for you, darling,” he says before stealing a quick kiss from your lips.
6 more days. 6 more days before Promise becomes mine forevermore. She will carry my name and, if Fate allows it, my lineage. I have found myself looking quite forward to the future as of late.
We have finalized the guest list, the date, the location, and the ceremony itself. We are doing a mix of wedding traditions, but one thing we both agreed on was a hand-fasting ceremony that is public but a quiet, private moment to say our vows to each other.
Our place has been a revolving door of friends and family for the past few months. As I sit to write this, Promise is downstairs, drinking and going over final plans with Natasha and Wanda, her two bridesmaids. Having their help, plus Mother's has been a blessing during this whole event.
6 more days, my beloved. 6 more days.
Read the previous entries HERE.
Apologies for being so late with this buuuuuuuut.....
pairing: Avenger Loki Laufeyson x reader (fem in mind reader wears dress, heels, and makeup royal beauty standards implied as reason so not out of enjoyment specifically)
warnings: Best friends to lovers, confessions, yearning Loki, lovesick idiots, pure fluff, no use of y/n, nickname (darling)
not proofread we die like men lol
word count: 1.1k
summary: Loki is only openly soft for one person and that person is his best friend his usual sass and snapping remarks are nonexistent for her.
asked by my Favorite writer @venigrantrogers Thank you for this request!!! I hope you love it! I tried really hard! 💚💚💚💚💚
Loki's days are spent in routine everywhere he goes. You're on his mind whether he's in the palace library, sparring Thor, in the middle of a real battle the only thing that's consistent in his chaos is his obvious love for you.
Being Loki's best friend has its perks for starters no man, prince or knight dared to approach you because Loki has turned people into mice for much less.
One thing for sure that was for sure a perk of Loki being in your life was his full attention on you all the time sometimes you swore he knew you better then you did.
Sad? Loki already had your favorite snacks and he'd make sure no one bothered you for however long you needed.
Anxious? Loki would say something silly just to make you laugh.
Insecure? Loki will flirt with you until you're a blushing mess like when you had mentioned in passing that you hadn't liked how this one article of clothing fitted and Loki just said to take it off since he knew you'd look better without it.
Stressed? Loki was already reworking your day so that you could relax in his room with one of his books.
Unfortunately there was one downside to being Loki's best friend and that was the royal events.
He had to attend a lot as a prince of asgard. You being his best friend and the only person that he wants with him at all times were always his plus one.
Soft music floated through the air of the ballroom, a glass in your hand that you're holding a little too tightly, a forced smile on your face internally cursing how weak you get for Loki's damn puppy eyes.
Loki stood next to you giving you apologetic glances every few minutes since the man that was in front of you both had been just the latest of the many people who had approached Loki.
After the man had finally excused himself, Loki immediately turned to you offering his hand.
"Care for a dance darling?~"
Loki’s voice was a smooth purr he knew for a fact his teasing flirting would help ease the tension you felt from another person being too scared to even acknowledge you.
"If you insist, my prince"
Loki huffs a slight laugh at you using his title as you set your glass down gently he doesn't take his eyes off you as always its like his eyes are just glued to you with a soft sigh you take his hand in yours, letting him lead you to the dance floor.
Dancing with Loki was just another benefit to being his best friend.
It was always magically the way he’d focus on you as he spun you around his touch, always gentle never drifted or made you feel uncomfortable.
Even when he pulled you close, he was always careful, always watching your face for any hints of discomfort.
His sole focus on you never fails to make the room disappear like a spell.
The ball is finally winding down after four mindless hours of polite chatter and forced smiles without words. Loki leads you to his personal chambers as always that's where you destress after such mindless events.
As always as soon as you're in his room you lay down on the couch after kicking off your dreadful heels loki sits down next to you leaning his head on the back of the couch.
"darling?"
Loki's voice was soft while falling asleep.
"hm?"
you hum in response to be comfortable to really speak.
"Would it be possible to move to my bed to sleep properly? I think we'd be more comfortable."
You open your eyes to peek at him and Loki is already looking down at you with a soft nervousness in his eyes.
"Loki, we've been best friends for years, yes we can move to your bed to be more comfortable."
You sat up slowly definitely sleepy, you barely had time to let out a huff of annoyance that you'd have to take off your make up and the dress you had to wear for the royal event when in a flash of green your face was clean and you were suddenly in one of Loki's shirts and some sleep shorts. You looked over at him with a soft smile that made Loki smile back.
A few minutes later you're both lying in the silk sheets of his bed, your head on his chest, legs tangled. It was intimate but something about it being loki made it feel perfect like this was something you always did which to be fair boundaries with loki have never fully existed.
Loki's hand playing with your hair made you smile only took him a few minutes to get you to the edges of sleep.
Loki on the other hand was now wide awake he couldn't keep in his feelings any longer and it was bubbling over while watching how you melted into him and trusted him so freely.
"I love you so much." He spoke in a soft voice like one you'd use to worship.
It took you a moment to process what he had said, your tired brain so close to sleep you almost thought you imagined it but then you felt his hand cup your face to encourage you to look up at him you blinked a few times to clear the almost sleep from your eyes.
"I love you too Loki."
Your voice is quiet from almost falling asleep.
"Grant me the honor of calling you mine?~"
His voice is more rough now as he stares down into your eyes like you hung the stars.
"I'm as much yours as you are mine loki it's just official now~" you breathed out softly because of the way a god like him is so devoted to only you and isn't afraid to show it.
Loki cupped your chin and tilted it up and kissed you properly so soft and sweet like he could pour all his love for you into this kiss.
It didn't feel like a first, it wasn't rushed or clumsy, it was like coming home because it was.
When you both parted for air he smiled, kissing your forehead.
"Sleep my queen you’ll need your rest for later~"
Now safe and warm in his arms you feel truly at peace like you could face a thousand more royal events because you'd have Loki at your side.
Drifting off to sleep you know one thing for certain…
SUMMARY: When you’re not ready to face the world all at once, Loki is there to assure you that you can take it step by step, day by day. He makes things more manageable than they have been in days.
NOTES: Depression, numbness, isolation, very gentle Loki, can be read romantic or platonic.
REQUESTED BY: Anonymous.
NAVIGATION | MCU MASTERLIST | KO-FI
It arrives quietly, which feels unfair, considering how loud everything else used to be.
There is no dramatic breaking point, no singular moment you can point to and say, there, that was it, that was when things tipped. It is more like a dimmer switch, slow and insistent, until the world is turned down so low you begin to wonder whether it is worth straining your eyes to see it at all.
You notice it in strange places first. In the way laughter sounds distant even when it leaves your own mouth, in how your favourite songs feel like they are playing through a wall, in how time stretches thin and brittle until hours pass without leaving any impression at all. You wake, you exist, you sleep, and somewhere in between you are supposed to feel something that never quite arrives.
Getting out of bed becomes a negotiation. Not a dramatic battle, not even a reluctant sigh, just a dull, heavy question that sits in your chest and asks, for what. You do not always have an answer. Sometimes you stay there longer than you intend, staring at the ceiling, tracing cracks and shadows as if they might rearrange into something meaningful if you look long enough.
It is on one of those mornings, or afternoons, or something in between, that he appears.
Loki does not knock. He never does. The air shifts, cool and faintly sharp, and then he is simply there, leaning against the doorframe as though he has always belonged in the space. You do not startle anymore. You think you should, perhaps, but the feeling does not quite reach you.
“You’re avoiding the day again,” he says, voice soft in a way that would surprise anyone who did not know him well enough to hear it.
You do not respond immediately. There is a stretch of silence that would feel awkward with anyone else. With Loki, it simply exists.
“I’m in the day,” you reply eventually, your voice sounding distant even to your own ears.
Loki’s mouth tilts, not quite a smile, not quite anything. “A technicality,” he murmurs, pushing himself upright and crossing the room with unhurried steps. “You are in your bed, which happens to be located within the day. That is not the same thing.”
You suppose he is right. The thought does not provoke much of a reaction.
He sits on the edge of the mattress, close enough that you can feel the faint shift in weight. His presence is noticeable. Not overwhelming, not intrusive, just there in a way that anchors something in you that has been drifting for too long.
“You haven’t opened the curtains,” he observes, glancing towards the window.
You follow his gaze without moving your head. The fabric looks heavier than it should.
“They’ll still be there later,” you say.
“Yes,” Loki agrees easily, folding his hands in his lap. “So will you, I should hope. Yet I suspect neither of you will have improved much by waiting.”
A pause. Then, quieter, “May I?”
You shrug, which is as close to permission as you can manage.
He rises with a soft rustle of fabric and crosses to the window. There is something deliberate in the way he draws the curtains back, not abrupt, not forceful, just enough to let the light slip in gradually, as if he understands that too much at once would feel like an intrusion.
The room shifts. It is not brighter in a way that hurts, just less dim. You squint slightly, more out of habit than discomfort.
“There,” he says, almost to himself. “A modest victory.”
You do not feel victorious. You feel exactly the same. That is the problem.
“I know what you are thinking,” he continues, turning back towards you. “That this changes nothing. That the light is simply light, and you are still…” He trails off, searching for a word he does not seem to like.
“Muted,” you supply.
His gaze sharpens, something like understanding flickering behind it. “Yes,” he says softly. “Muted.”
You watch him for a moment. He looks out of place in your room, all sharp lines and quiet intensity against the soft, unremarkable surroundings. He always looks a little out of place, you think, as if the world has never quite decided what to do with him.
“You don’t have to fix it,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “You can’t.”
“I am well aware of my limitations,” Loki replies dryly, though there is no bite to it. He moves back to the bed, sitting closer this time. “I’m not here to fix you.”
The word fix sits strangely in your chest. You are not sure you like it either.
“I am here,” he continues, quieter now, “because you should not have to sit in this alone and convince yourself it is all there is.”
You look at him properly then, searching his face for something you cannot quite name. There is no impatience there, no frustration, no expectation that you will suddenly become something else. Just a steady kind of presence that does not demand anything from you.
“I don’t feel alone,” you say, after a moment.
It is true, in a way. You do not feel much of anything.
Loki’s expression shifts, something softer edging into it. “That isn’t quite the same thing, darling,” he says. You suppose it is not.
Silence settles again, but it is different this time. Less empty, somehow. He does not rush to fill it. He simply sits, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him through the thin layers between you, grounding in a way you cannot fully explain.
Minutes pass. Or longer. Time is strange like this.
Eventually, he speaks again. “Have you eaten?”
You think about it. The answer does not come immediately, which probably tells you everything you need to know.
“I’m not hungry,” you say instead.
“That wasn’t the question,” Loki replies, though his tone remains gentle.
You exhale slowly, the sound catching somewhere on the way out. “I can’t remember.”
He nods once, as if confirming something to himself. There is no lecture, no disappointment. Just a quiet acceptance of the information.
“Then we shall remedy that,” he says.
The idea feels large. Not impossible, not even unpleasant, just bigger than it should be.
“In a moment,” he adds, as though he can see the thought forming. “There’s no urgency here. I am not about to drag you from your bed and force-feed you, tempting as the idea may be.”
A faint huff of something almost like amusement escapes you before you can stop it. It is small, fragile, but real enough that you notice it. Loki notices it too. His lips curve slightly, not triumphant, just midlly pleased.
“There you are,” he murmurs.
You do not know what he means. You are still here, exactly as you were. Even so, something in your chest shifts, just a fraction, like a breath you did not realise you were holding.
He does not comment on it further. Instead, he reaches out, slow enough that you have time to pull away if you want to. You do not. His hand comes to rest lightly over yours, the contact warm and steady.
It does not fix anything. It does not make the heaviness disappear or the world snap back into sharp focus. It does, however, give you something to feel.
Even if it is only that. And for now, that seems to be enough.
You do not notice when your eyes close again.
It is not quite sleep. It never really is these days. There is no clean drop into rest, no sense of drifting off. It feels more like slipping sideways into nothing, your thoughts thinning out until they barely resemble thoughts at all.
When you wake, or surface, or whatever it is, Loki is still there.
You know it before you open your eyes properly. There is a steadiness to the room that was not there before he arrived, something quiet and watchful that does not press in on you but refuses to leave either. It is unfamiliar in a way that should make you uneasy. It does not.
“You vanished on me,” he says, not accusing, just observant.
Your gaze drifts towards him. He has not moved far. He is still sitting at the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other now, posture composed in that effortless way he seems to carry even in the most ordinary of spaces.
“I’m still here,” you reply.
“Mm.” His eyes flick over your face, as if assessing something deeper than your words. “So you are.”
You do not ask how long you were gone. It does not feel important. The light in the room has shifted slightly, softer now, less intrusive. You are aware of it in a distant sort of way, like noticing a change in temperature without reacting to it.
“I suppose this is the part where I insist you get up,” Loki continues, tone thoughtful. “Encourage you to engage with the world beyond these four walls, perhaps tempt you with promises of fresh air and movement and all the other things mortals claim are beneficial.”
You blink at him, slow and unhurried. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m not,” he admits. “Not because they are wrong, mind you. I simply suspect that presenting them as obligations will only make them feel heavier to you.”
He tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Tell me, if I were to suggest something far less ambitious, would you humour me?”
You consider the question. It feels distant, like it is being asked of someone else.
“Depends,” you say eventually.
“Okay.” A flicker of something almost like amusement passes through his expression. “Then I shall be specific.”
He gestures vaguely towards the window. “We will not go far. No grand excursions, no forced enthusiasm. Simply…” He pauses, as if choosing the least offensive option. “A brief step outside. Enough to remind you that the world still exists beyond this room, even if it feels muted.”
The thought settles somewhere in your mind, heavy and uncertain. It is not an immediate no. That surprises you.
“I don’t want to see people,” you say.
“Then we shall avoid them,” Loki replies easily. “I have spent centuries doing precisely that when it suits me. I assure you, it is entirely possible.”
That earns another small, involuntary exhale from you. Not quite a laugh, not quite anything, but it feels like movement.
“You make it sound simple,” you murmur.
“It is simple,” he says. “That doesn’t mean it is easy.”
You look at him again, properly this time. There is no impatience in his gaze, no expectation that you will agree immediately. He is offering, not demanding.
“I can come back,” he adds, softer now. “If today feels like too much. I’m not bound to this moment.”
Something tightens faintly in your chest at that. You do not like the idea of him leaving. The feeling is quiet, easy to miss, but it is there.
“You’re already here,” you say, the words slipping out before you can think them through.
His expression shifts, something gentler settling into it. “I am.”
Silence stretches between you again, but it feels less empty than before. There is something threaded through it now, something that makes it easier to sit in.
“Five minutes,” you say eventually, the words slow and uncertain. “Outside.”
Loki’s brows lift slightly, not in surprise exactly, more in quiet acknowledgement. “Five minutes,” he repeats.
You push yourself upright before you can think too much about it. The movement feels heavier than it should, your limbs slow to respond, but you manage it. Sitting up makes the room tilt faintly, like your body is reminding you how long it has been since you last bothered to move properly.
Loki rises immediately, not hovering, not crowding, just present. Ready, if you need him.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed. The floor is colder than you expect. It sends a faint, sharp sensation up through you, enough to make you pause.
“There you are again,” Loki murmurs, almost to himself.
You glance at him, frowning slightly. “What does that mean?”
“That you are still capable of feeling things,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Even if they are small. Even if they are fleeting.”
You do not know how to respond to that. The feeling is already fading, the cold dulling into something indistinct. You stand anyway.
It takes longer than it should to gather what you need. Shoes feel unnecessary until you remember the ground outside will not be as forgiving as your floor. A jacket seems excessive until you imagine the air against your skin. Each decision feels like wading through something thick and slow.
Loki does not rush you. He leans back against the wall, watching with a kind of quiet patience that makes the process feel less like a performance you are failing at.
When you are finally ready, you hesitate by the door. It feels bigger than it should. Heavier.
“You are not stepping into anything unknown,” Loki says softly, as if he can see the thought forming. “You are simply stepping into the next moment. It will not demand anything from you that you cannot give.”
You nod, though you are not entirely convinced.
The door opens with a soft click. The air outside is cooler, fresher, carrying a faint scent of something you cannot quite place. It feels different to the air in your room, less stale, less still.
You step out.
Nothing dramatic happens. The world does not suddenly sharpen into clarity. Colours do not burst back into life. Everything remains slightly distant, slightly muted.
Even so, it is different.
Loki steps out beside you, close enough that you are aware of him without having to look. He does not speak immediately. He lets the moment settle, lets you exist in it without commentary.
A breeze brushes past, light and cool. It catches in your hair, grazes your skin. You notice it. That feels significant, somehow.
“Five minutes,” you remind him quietly.
“If you wish,” he replies.
You stand there, not doing much of anything. Not talking, not moving far, just being. It feels strange. It also feels, in a very small way, like something. After a while, Loki shifts slightly, his shoulder brushing yours. The contact is light, intentional.
“I am still here,” he says, not looking at you.
You swallow, the motion slow. “I know.”
“Good,” he murmurs.
The minutes pass. You do not count them.
When you finally turn back towards the door, it is not with the same heaviness as before. It is still there, of course. It has not disappeared. It probably will not for a while. Even so, there is something else now, threaded through it. Something small. Something quiet. Something that feels, faintly, like the possibility of more.
The five minutes stretch without you noticing.
They do not transform into something bright or miraculous. There is no sudden clarity, no sharp return of feeling that makes everything make sense again. The world remains soft around the edges, like it is wrapped in something you cannot quite peel away.
Even so, when you step back inside, something feels different.
Not better, not fixed, not anything that could be neatly defined. Just altered, slightly, like a shift in weight you cannot quite place.
Loki closes the door behind you with a quiet click. The sound feels louder than it should, or perhaps you are simply more aware of it now.
“You lasted longer than five minutes,” he says, a faint note of something warm threading through his voice.
You shrug out of your jacket slowly, movements still dulled but less resistant than before. “I didn’t time it.”
“No,” he agrees. “I did.”
You glance at him, something almost curious flickering through you. “Of course you did.”
His mouth curves faintly. “I find it useful to measure these things. It allows me to recognise progress, even when it insists on disguising itself as something insignificant.”
Progress. The word sits strangely with you.
“I don’t feel different,” you say.
“I didn’t expect you to,” Loki replies, stepping closer, his voice even and steady. “Change rarely announces itself in ways that are immediately satisfying. Actually, it’s often irritatingly subtle.”
You huff a quiet breath at that, the sound softer than before but still there. “That sounds like something you hate.”
“I despise it,” he says without hesitation, which almost makes you smile. “I prefer grand, undeniable shifts. Transformations worthy of legend. This…” He gestures vaguely between you and the room. “This is far less dramatic.”
You lean back against the door for a moment, grounding yourself in the solidness of it. “Then why bother, Loki?”
His expression stills slightly, something more serious settling into it. He considers you for a moment before answering.
“Because subtle does not mean insignificant,” he says quietly. “It simply means it requires patience to notice.”
Patience. You are not sure you have much of that left.
You push yourself away from the door and move further into the room. The bed is still there, rumpled and familiar, pulling at you in a way that feels both comforting and heavy. Loki notices the way your gaze lingers.
“You may go back to it,” he says, before you can think too hard about whether you should. “Rest is not a crime.”
“It feels like one,” you admit.
He tilts his head slightly. “Only because you have decided it is undeserved.”
You do not argue. The thought feels too large to pick apart. Instead, you sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight. It is easier this time. Not effortless, not light, just easier.
Loki remains standing for a moment, watching you with that same quiet attentiveness. Then he moves, slow and deliberate, and sits beside you again.
“You said you didn’t remember eating,” he reminds you gently.
You sigh, the sound thin but present. “I remember you mentioning it.”
“And now I’m mentioning it again,” he says. “How tiresome for you.”
A faint trace of something almost like amusement flickers through you. “Very.”
“Tragic,” he agrees solemnly.
The silence that follows is softer than the ones before. Less like emptiness, more like space.
“I don’t want anything complicated,” you say after a moment. “Food-wise.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Loki replies. “Complexity is overrated in situations such as these.”
He lifts a hand slightly, a flicker of green magic sparking briefly at his fingertips before settling into something more contained. When it fades, there is a plate in his hand. It is simple. Nothing overwhelming, nothing that demands too much of you.
You stare at it for a moment.
“Sorry that I didn’t ask what you wanted,” he says lightly. “That was intentional. I find too many choices can feel like a burden.”
You nod slowly. That feels true. He sets the plate within easy reach, not pressing it into your hands, not insisting. Just placing it there, an option rather than an obligation.
“You can ignore it, if you wish,” he adds. “It won’t offend me. Much.”
You pick at it after a moment, more out of a vague sense that you probably should than any real hunger. The taste is muted, like everything else, but it is there. You notice that too.
Loki does not watch you too closely. He leans back slightly, giving you space while still remaining near enough that you can feel him there.
“I’m not very good at this,” you say quietly, after a few bites.
“At eating?” he asks.
“At all of it.”
His gaze shifts back to you, something steady and certain in it. “You are still here,” he says. “That seems like a rather impressive start.”
You frown faintly. “That’s the bare minimum.”
“Perhaps,” he allows. “But it is a minimum that many struggle to maintain when everything feels as you have described.”
You do not have a response to that. The words settle somewhere deep, not fixing anything, not changing the weight of it, but staying.
“I do not always know what to say,” Loki continues, quieter now. “This is not a battle I can fight on your behalf, nor a puzzle I can solve with cleverness or force.”
You glance at him. “You do like both of those things.”
“I do,” he admits. “Immensely. This, however, is different.”
He shifts slightly, turning towards you more fully. “So I won’t pretend I can take this from you. I will not offer empty reassurances that it’ll just vanish overnight, or that you can simply will it away.”
His voice softens, something almost fierce beneath the gentleness of it.
“What I can do is remain,” he says. “I can sit with you in the quiet when it feels unbearable, remind you to step outside when the walls begin to close in, ensure you eat something even when you insist you are not hungry.”
Your throat tightens slightly at that, the sensation unfamiliar after so much numbness.
“I can tell you,” he continues, meeting your gaze steadily, “as many times as it takes, that you are not alone in this moment, even when your mind insists otherwise.”
Something in your chest shifts again, sharper this time. Not painful, not entirely, but enough to make you notice.
“I don’t always feel it,” you say, your voice quieter than before. “That I’m not alone.”
“I know,” Loki replies softly. “That doesn’t make it any less true.”
Silence settles again, but it is not empty.
You finish what you can of the food, setting the plate aside when it becomes too much. Loki does not comment on how much or how little you have eaten. He simply acknowledges it with a small nod, as if it is enough.
You shift slightly, your shoulder brushing his. This time, you do not pull away. He notices. Of course he does.
Slowly, giving you every opportunity to change your mind, he reaches out and draws you closer, his arm settling around you in a way that is careful, grounding. Not restrictive, not overwhelming. Just there. You let yourself lean into him.
It feels strange, at first. Then it feels steady. The numbness does not disappear. The heaviness remains, settled deep in your chest where it has been for longer than you can remember. Even so, there is something else now, woven quietly through it.
Warmth. Presence. The faintest suggestion that you are not drifting quite as far as you thought.
Loki’s hand rests against your arm, his thumb moving in slow, absent circles that do not demand attention but offer it all the same.
“I am still here,” he murmurs, the words soft and certain.
You close your eyes, not to disappear this time, but to rest in the moment as it is.
“I know,” you whisper.
It does not fix everything. It does not need to. For now, it is enough that he stays, and that you let him.
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