You never strayed away from his thoughts. Often he blushed wondering if you were touching yourself. Dreaming of tonight, holding you close. Loki's desires warmed your soul. This is the perfect start to your relationship...
“Darling, I said you need a break.” He said now with a warning tone
“Love what do you want…” You replied, clearly tired as hell. You just wanted to finish this group, more like individually done group project, all carries by you
“Darling you’ve been at it for almost 6 hours now and with no break…you need to walk, stretch, get some food…wait when was the last time you had a sip of water?”
“Don’t know Loki, too busy, too into it, i’m almost done, i just have to re-check everything and…and…and…”
“Ok enough of that” he physically pulls you away from your desk making your papers fall to the ground
“Loki!”
“Ok i did not intend that but now you get my point! You look exhausted and it hurts me to see you like this…and you just don’t deserve this!”
“I don’t have a choice ok?! This is my final shot at a decent mark and my groupmates are kinda just shit!” You were beyond done at this point, just absolutely beyond your level of patience
“Loki please let me get back to this…” you pleaded in exhaustion, just wanting to get this over with and crash into bed
“Love…” Loki goes away for a moment and comes back with a glass of water, handing it to you. “Drink up”
You look at the glass of water and grab it immediately, drink it all up in one go
“See?! Look how thirsty you were! Love you need a break”
You scoff and fall back onto the chair, accepting defeat
“Ok…fine…but only for 10 minutes”
“No 20!”
“Too long! 15?”
“15 is…alright” Loki agrees too.
He spend those 15 minutes praising you for all your hard work “my good girl is working so hard…” “what amazing work you’ve done my love…” “i’m so proud of you darling”
He massaged your shoulders and kissed the side of your neck and cheeks
He grabbed you a quick snack so that you had more energy once the break was over
Lastly he forced you out of your chair and onto the couch so that he could wrap his arms around you and into a warm embrace “I love you my darling…in all the nine realms…you’ve claimed my heart forever”
Leaning into his embrace you rested your head onto his chest “I love you too…my sweet boy, you care so much for me and I am so grateful…so damn lucky” You looked up, catching his gaze and pulling him into a loving kiss…
You continued to rest your head against his, accidentally falling asleep…which was Loki’s plan all along…don’t worry about the project though, he had scared the shit out of your other group mates to do their work and used magic to finish up on what you needed…anyone that dare hurts his sweet darling obviously will face some kind of consequence!
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(a/n): just wanted to get something short and sweet out…enjoy!
Chapter warnings: filthy dirty S M U T - you've been warned :D
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Snow catches on the windowsill as you sit by the fire of the Hufflepuff common room with your nose in a textbook. The frigid cold of December settles in your bones in a tired sort of way. Since that day you had cried in Frigga’s arms, you have spent your days dutifully attending classes, trying to return to some kind of normal. As the days stretched into weeks, winter holidays creeped up and snow blanketed everything.
It feels as though the start to your semester was just a hellish fever dream; from falling into a whirlwind of a relationship with your potions professor, to watching him die multiple times, to nearly dying in an all out battlefield against the forces of evil. Not to mention being possessed by said evil and murdering your friend, Pom. That last one sits the heaviest on your shoulders, a burden you will carry on for the rest of your life. You try your best to tell yourself that it was not your fault, but your doubts disagree.
Closing the book at the rumble in your stomach, you wander over to the Great Hall for dinner. The halls thin as students return home for Christmas break. Mo is planning to meet Nila’s family on a tropical vacation, while Valkyrie is attending a prestigious quidditch training camp halfway around the world. You are happy for them, because they seem to be able to move on with their lives in a way that you wish you could.
You meet Mo and Valkyrie in the Great Hall, where the ceiling is decorated with floating red candles and poinsettias. The walls are festooned with wreaths and sparkling ribbons and at every corner of the hall, there stands a tall snowman with a long beard and a serrated carrot nose. An arrangement of meats and cheese tantalize your senses, along with sticky toffee pudding, treacle tarts, mince pie and Victoria sponge. Your stomach gurgles at the scent of sugary sweets.
“You sure you don’t want to come with me, Freya? You can cheer me on for two whole weeks!” Valkyrie says, stealing your treacle tart.
You chuckle. “Riiight, like I want to be around you jocks! No thanks. I’ll be catching up on reading and ace my N.E.W.T.S.”
Mo sighed. “God, I hope I don’t screw up with Nila’s parents. They’re muggles. I don’t know a thing about muggles, you guys.”
Taking a bite from a piece of lemon pepper havarti, you turn to Mo. “Muggles are nothing to worry about. They’re pretty much like you, sans the magic. And as for Nila’s parents, they’ll adore you, Mo, just be yourself.”
This appeases him for the time being as he spoons pudding onto his plate. “Are you going to be okay here? By yourself I mean…”
Valkyrie and Mo both give you a look they’ve been giving you since November. It’s the “will she slit her wrists in the bath” look and you find it slightly irritating but understand that they mean well. They are your best friends, but you are not able to share all your sorrows with them, especially now that they are trying to move on. A fragment of your soul was lost during your ordeal with Hela, and you had no idea how to get it back, let alone force your friends to join your little parade of distress.
Putting on a convincing grin, you say, “I’ll be fine! You two enjoy your holidays and don’t give me a second thought. I’ll be too busy to even miss you twats.”
This makes them laugh and so you keep things light. They cannot see the storm brewing inside your chest. Every day since the battle, your nightmares of Fenris continue. You wake up thinking that you’ve been sleepwalking and might have hurt someone. You’re too afraid to bring it up with anyone, even Heimdall or Frigga. So you simply cry yourself to sleep and sometimes tie your wrist to your bedpost to make sure you don’t go anywhere.
You bid them goodbye and wish them a happy Christmas and in the next few days the halls are deserted. It seems that the battle encouraged all the students to spend more time with their families. This thought makes you glad, but just a little lonely. Your footsteps echo through the staircases and halls and you reach a point on Christmas Eve where the entire day passes and you see no one; not even a single professor. Not even a ghost.
The heavy feeling in your chest remains as you go for a walk minutes to midnight, not wanting to sleep. Your eyes are dry from staying awake too long, but you fear what occurs in your dreams too much to allow yourself the pleasure of slumber. Sconces glow with dim firelight as you wander the halls more like a spectre than a person. You find yourself in the potions tower and your chest tightens. Of course you end up here.
A rattling sound echoes down the stairs and alerts you. Silent as a mouse, you climb the stairs to the potions classroom, dreading a dementor. To your relief, there is no depressing chill in the air beyond the crispness of winter. Opening the door to the potions room, your heart sinks when you find it empty. Still, you hope.
“I know you’re here,” you say aloud. Your voice echoes in the empty room. “Why won’t you face me?”
The room temperature shifts and you know he’s there. You turn around, and there he is, leaning on the teacher’s desk with crossed arms. He wears a long black trench coat with form fitting slacks and a black turtleneck. His hair has gotten longer since the battle and he dons a goatee and moustache. He looks older now, especially with the long scar that runs from his temple through his left eye and down his neck. The blinded eye is a cloudy white, while the healthy blue one pierces through you, wearing a thousand emotions.
“Miss Eves,” he says with a distant voice that makes your insides sink.
You want to take a step towards him, but your body is paralyzed under the weight of his gaze. His change in looks, no less attractive of course, makes you think you are looking at a stranger. “How are you?” you mumble, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so stupid.
“Lucky to be alive, thanks to you,” he says. There is not a waver in his tone. You wonder if he has realized that your school time dalliance was just that, a simple passionate fling that is better in memory than picking up again.
Bravely, you step towards him, though you feel an aura of resistance. “I told you before, didn't I? Couldn’t just let you die.”
A thin smile forms on his lips and you briefly see the man you love underneath all the unfamiliarity. “Even if I am a complete wretch?”
”You’re a wretch for leaving without a word, sure,” you say, finding your footing and giving him a glare. ”How could you just leave?” You try to let your words come out strong, but at the end your voice breaks and you start to cry. Fuck.
You cover your face, hopelessly embarrassed, but at your wits’ end. Too many nightmares rattled around in your brain to play word games with Loki. He approaches you and grabs your wrists, pulling them away from your face.
“Freya,” he says with a tender voice. “I needed to tie up some loose ends before I could face you. You’ve done so much for me, sacrificed so much. In return, I have only brought grief into your life. I cannot bring you any more danger. I need to be a better man.”
You lift your head to look up at him, the scar from Hela’s magic healed so jaggedly. With a light caress, you run your fingers down the scar and cup his chin. “You think grief is the only thing you’ve brought me? What about the nights in your office or your chambers? Our secret picnics on the roof? Was it all Loki’s grief?”
His brows knit together as he gazes at you, a gleam of desire in his eye. “My time with you consists of the happiest moments of my life.”
You pull your hands out of his grip. “Then why are you toying with me? You know what I want, so you must decide.” Your sadness spills into anger like water pouring from a spout. “I am not afraid of you or your past. The question is, how long will you let it define you?”
His fingers dance in the absence of your skin and he actually chuckles. “Your wisdom cuts me, Freya, but it is one of the things I love about you.”
”You’re a bastard, you know that?” You say, crossing your arms and moving away from him. “Perhaps I should be done with you.”
”Who’s toying with whom now?” He says, grabbing you by the arm.
You back away from him, only to feel the cool stone of a pillar behind you. He leans on one arm against the pillar, pinning you there and smiles. There is something more maniacal about him with the blind eye and scar, but your body reacts rather aggressively by heating up at the sight of him. “Who knew that Loki Laufeyson would become so pitiful?” A smirk plays on your lips and he smiles wider. More, his eyes say.
“How far you’ve fallen, professor,” you say, biting your lip. Your sanity left you a long time ago. Now you only wanted one thing. Him.
With his other hand, he grips your hip tightly. “How dare you speak to me that way?”
Butterflies explode in your gut, and you rub your thighs together. “Hmph, it’s not like you’re my professor anymore. You’re just a trespasser.”
He leans closer, and you feel the bulge in his pants.
“You’re just a pathetic man, looking for excuses to be unhappy,” you say. Seeing the flare of anger in his eyes, you wonder if you’ve gone too far.
His mouth crashes onto yours, and his tongue parts your lips, invading your space so quickly you can barely breathe. You allow him to engulf you and feel the heat between your legs transform into an urgent need.
“Seems,” he says between kisses, “I need to…teach you…some manners…You’ve become…quite a brat…without me around.”
You moan into his mouth as he lifts you by the thighs, pinning you to the pillar. Your hands wrap around his neck and you run your fingers through his hair, as he ravishes your mouth with his tongue. He grinds his hardness against your core and you become undone. You didn’t realize how sensitive you became in the last month, and every touch set fire to your senses. Loki had a way of swallowing you whole with his presence.
Suddenly Loki withdraws, but you are still hovering against the pillar, and you gasp when you feel Loki’s green magic support your body. He smiles wickedly and gestures at your chest; a green tendril of magic undoes your top, one button at a time. The green appendage is cool against your skin, in a comforting way, though it makes your mind race with unspeakably dark possibilities.
He takes off his trench coat and rolls up the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows. Seeing him in the classroom like this, looking more intimidating than ever before, sends a shiver down your spine. He slips away your underwear with ease, and removes your top and bra, leaving you only in your plaid skirt and high socks. The cold air of the room makes your nipples perk up and he stares at you with hunger.
You wanted to make him mad with desire. “I missed you, daddy,” you say, blushing as you open up your legs in a lewd display.
Loki nearly chokes as he drops to his knees, parts your thighs and licks up your slit. “I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he whispers, giving you an earnest look.
You moan as he licks your folds, and his fingers rub against your wetness. Dipping a long finger inside, he stretches you, but you already want more. He pumps a single finger in and out as he sucks on your clit and waves his free hand. A tendril of green magic rubs against your nipple and you suck in a breath. “What a-are you doing?” Your breath turns into panting when another green tendril wraps itself around your other nipple. An orgasm was arriving hard and fast.
”The best magic comes from the heart, and right now, I want to make you feel good, my love,” he says, as he adds a second finger inside you. He pumps his fingers and you whimper at the feeling. “Ahh, Loki, I-I’m gonna!”
He sucks on your clit, shoving his fingers in as deep as they can go and you come hard and fast with a loud moan. Before you come down, he unbuckles his pants and slides himself inside you. It hurts at first, but you let him inside, one inch at a time, until he is all the way in. You can almost feel the pulse of his blood inside you.
“I won’t be able to hold back much longer,” he says, his blue eye gazing into you with pure need.
You move against his hardness and you both moan at the same time. “Don’t hold back, I’ve been waiting long enough,” you say.
He wraps his arm around your waist and thrusts into you so hard you see stars. He drives in and out of you, and you arch your back against the cool stone. His mouth finds yours and you kiss him passionately, not realizing that tears ran down your cheeks. Every night since the battle, you had missed him so terribly, thinking that he would be gone from your life. If he left now, you would be completely broken.
Loki appears to read your face in this moment and he slows his thrusts, going deep, but with a mindful pace. “I will never leave you, Freya, I love you,” he whispers in your ear with each thrust.
Something inside you unravels, and you want to lose yourself in the man you love. You wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly, wanting him deeper. You needed more.
”Take me, Loki, I’m forever yours,” you say with a whimper.
He slams himself into you, over and over, and a cool green tendril sneaks between your bodies to rub your clit. As Loki pounds you into the pillar, his tongue rams down your throat. Your walls squeeze his cock as you approach your release.
“I’m going to paint your insides white,” he says, and with a final brutal thrust, he comes inside of you and you scream with a shattering orgasm.
He holds you there for a while, still inside you, as you both return to your bodies from the spiritual experience of being joined so breathtakingly. Both of you silently converse with kisses, caresses, and whispers of sweet words. You don’t know how much time passes, but he takes you to the potions bedchamber and cleans you up.
In the shower, he takes you again, pinning you against the tile with your back to him. Your face presses against the wall and all you want is to be fucked into oblivion.
“God, I’ve missed this pussy,” he says, fisting your hair and thrusting into you with abandon. “I’m going to fuck you until it’s New Year’s Day. Do you understand me?”
You mumble some kind of “yes daddy” and chase your pleasure as he pounds into you and you feel his come squirt inside you.
When you return to the bedroom, your body is sore, but you still want more of him. A need has erupted inside you that cannot be sated and you climb onto his bed, completely naked, and sit on your knees waiting for him to return from the restroom.
When he returns, he sees you there and his blue eye glazes over with lust. “Still want more, do you?”
You get on your hands and knees and crawl to him, and your head is at the same level as his cock. It hardens as you watch it, licking your lips. “I want you to obliterate me, daddy.”
With a lick to the tip, you swallow his cock until it hits the back of your throat and his balls rub against your chin.
“Fuck!” He exclaims as you bob your head, trying not to choke.
He gathers your hair in his hands and gently starts to thrust. “Is this okay?” He asks.
Your throat is so stuffed you can barely breathe, but you want him to fuck every single hole you have. When he sees you nod, he begins to fuck your throat raw. With each thrust, he gets a bit rougher, until he’s pounding your mouth, balls slapping against your chin, and you are nearly choking and holding back tears.
A manic smile appears on his lips. “Good girls get rewarded,” he says with a grunt and continues thrusting into your mouth. You feel a cool tendril against your thigh and moan in surprise when it brushes against your slit.
The tendril probes your folds and sinks inside you as Loki thrusts into your mouth, and you gasp, nearly gagging. “Are you my good girl?” He says, as the tendril begins thrusting into your pussy. You look up at his lean body, covered in a sheen of sweat, and nearly come from the sight of him claiming your mouth.
You moan a garbled “yes, daddy” and allow yourself to be violated, feeling a strong orgasm on the way.
“Then don’t come. You’re not allowed until I say so, understand?” He says, stopping and tilting your chin up.
You whine but he glares at you with both his white blind eye and his blue one. When you nod in understanding, he resumes thrusting and you want to come so badly. Heat builds up in your lower abdomen, wanting to come, but with a tearful moan you don’t allow yourself to release. With a loud groan, Loki erupts inside your throat and you drink every last drop of his come. With a pop, he slides out of your mouth and waves his hands in the air.
In one quick sweep, his magic shifts you around so you are bent over the bed with Loki behind you. “You’re still my good girl, aren’t you?” He says, landing one sharp slap on your ass.
You moan, “yes!”
He squeezes your ass for several seconds and massages it. Then he runs a finger over the crack, over your third hole. “Do you want me to claim every part of you?”
You bite your lip, drunk on sex. “Yes, fuck me please daddy!”
Another hard slap lands on your other cheek and you whimper. “Beg for what you want.”
His rough demeanour does nothing to help you try to hold back your release. All you want is to have him inside you, all over you, everywhere. “Please…fuck my ass, daddy. I need you to take every single hole.”
Loki leans over you and whispers in your ear, giving your ass a squeeze. “Anything for my little cumslut.”
Suddenly, he rubs a warm liquid against your rear pucker, and he inserts a finger inside. You aren’t sure what qualities this magical elixir possesses, but nothing hurts as he gently stretches you, and his fingers make your head dizzy with pleasure.
Green tendrils of magic emerge from Loki’s body as he explores your ass, and they clamp onto your breasts, squeezing and teasing your nipples. Another presses against your pussy, slowly entering it once again, while another large tendril rubs against your mouth.
“I’m going to fill you up,” he says, positioning himself behind you. “Make you completely mine.”
You moan when the tendrils start moving. “More…” The green tendril in front of your face rubs your lips before pressing against them, and slides itself into your mouth.
He thrusts into your ass, and you scream at the fullness. Your screams are muffled by the tendril stuffing your mouth. Your senses are in overload as Loki thrusts into you and his magical tendrils assault your other holes. A large tendril wraps around your torso and lifts you up off the bed. This new angle puts every feeling into overdrive.
“Your pretty little ass is so tight,” he moans. “I’m going to ruin this hole over and over.”
Any thoughts you may have had are fucked out of of you, completely, as Loki hammers into you over and over. Your eyes roll back in your head as you scream, trying not to come, but it's so hard.
“Do you want to come?” he asks, panting in between words.
Tears prick your eyes. “Mhmm!” The green tendril in your mouth shoves itself down your throat, choking you.
Loki continues to ram into your ass, and fists your hair. “A few more seconds, darling. Hold on for me for a few more seconds.”
You whine, whimper and moan, but he is relentless as he fucks you. You are encased in his presence, in his magic, as he claims every single part of you. This man has already claimed your entire heart, but you knew Loki wanted everything, it was just a part of his personality. And you wanted to bare your soul, your body and your heart to him. So you held on, even though the pleasure was ripping you apart.
When you thought you would slip, he grabs your breasts with his hand and his thrusts become violent. “Come for me, now.”
An earth shattering orgasm crashes through your body and soul, and you feel your mind splinter. Loki and his tendrils fuck you through your orgasm and your aftershocks and he comes with a loud groan, as you milk his cock one more time. “That was…amazing,” he says, collapsing on top of you as the tendrils disappear. The weight of his body feels good atop you.
You sigh underneath him, and he gently turns you on your back. “Are you alright, my love?”
You are so fucked out of your mind you cannot form coherent words anymore, but simply nod with a smile on your face.
“I love you, Freya,” he whispers, kissing you on the forehead as he wraps his arms around you. “You’re mine now, forever.”
A smile spreads on your face as you drift off to sleep, and by some miracle, have no nightmares at all. In the void of sleep, all you feel is Loki’s warm embrace that carries you through the darkness.
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There it is, this suuuuuper long fanfic is done and I had so much fun writing it! Hope you guys enjoyed it :) Much love to you, and take care <3
Sending you lots of love and sticky pudding ;)
You could read this as a stand-alone, but it’s better with the backstory: Part One - Part Two
~4800 words of Loki x reader comfort fluff. Very soft and tender.
Based on a prompt from @shyficwriter who wondered what would happen if Loki caught the reader in the lab after midnight 💜
CWs: injury of a major character, blood, mentions of death and violence, anxiety, sleep-deprivation, swearing
Since the fateful afternoon of torture you’d subjected yourself to when you‘d foolishly tickle-attacked the God of Mischief, there had only been a few occasions when Loki followed through on his promise to make you pay if he caught you in the lab after midnight. To his credit, it was every single time he caught you. To your credit, he didn't catch you every single time you did it.
The first time it happened, you'd looked at the clock as it struck midnight and winced, desperately wanting to finish the upgrades to Nat's utility wrist cuff. Surely you'd only need ten more minutes, and Loki hardly came down here. There'd already been one or two times you'd snuck back to your room long after midnight with him none the wiser. He probably wouldn't know...
So you shut the protective goggles back down over your eyes and returned your attention to the tiny wires you were soldering together. Twenty minutes later, you nestled the white-hot solder iron to its cradle and removed the goggles. The second your hands were free from any equipment, you got the fright of your life when you felt Loki's arms wrap around your waist and lift you from the ground.
"What did I say, Agent?" He chuckled into your ear and slipped his hands past your lab coat and under the hem of your shirt to grip your bare sides, then let the combination of his vibrating magic and digging fingers pull loud squealing laughter from you.
After several minutes of apologies and pleading and fingers worming their way into every sensitive place on your belly, he finally relented, telling you next time would be even worse. In a final blow, he threw you over his shoulder and carried you up to your room. You found that you didn’t mind that, though. Especially since you two whispered little bantering jokes the whole way. He had set you down in front of your door, opened it and then held up his vibrating magical palm in a similar way an annoying older brother might lick their hand and reach it towards you to make you recoil. You laughed and jumped into your room, he then reached in and closed the door with a wink.
The second time it happened, he found you just before 7:00am, slumped over your desk and asleep on your crossed arms. You’d dozed off waiting for the computer to run some simulations and the volume hadn’t been loud enough to rouse you when the program had cracked the algorithm.
Your eyes shot open to the rude awakening of fingers slipping under your unprotected arms and digging in harshly. Flying backwards, you fell straight into his hold as he scolded you with an amused edge to his voice. Bright laughter burst from your lips, your arms clamped to your sides as Loki’s fingers prodded and dug into the softest spaces beneath your arms, wriggling about to recall those ways he knew how to make you squeal.
“Nononoho! Wait I didn’t breheak the deal!” You pleaded breathlessly. He paused, you panted. “Look, I can prove it!” You wormed away and he let you point to the simulation processing window. “L-Look, look,” you laughed nervously. “It started at 10:56pm and it ended at 11:33pm but I’d already fallen asleep so I wasn’t working, this was actually an early night for me so NO, NOHO LOKI!”
He hand’t been convinced, and continued with his torment. You slipped to the ground, weakened by your poor sleep and his ticklish onslaught, and thrashed helplessly as he kneaded his fingers into the places on your ribs he knew made you crumble into helpless laughter. You argued with him through your torture, which only spurred him on further, and so you bore the brunt of it until Bruce entered the lab with a large cup of coffee wondering what the hell was going on. Loki pulled you from the ground and into his arms, still digging his fingers into your sides.
“I SLEHEPT, I PROHOHOMIS-S-SE! I SLEHEHEPT!” You shrieked as Loki shot a wink to the amused Banner and carried you out of the lab, allowing your laughter to resonate down the hallways. Loki relented as he entered the stairway, knowing you’d be mortified if others were awoken by your hysterics. Instead, he held fast and carried your struggling form straight to your room as you growled and argued and he responded with sarcastic remarks and perhaps a few pokes to your sides. Even after all of that, you showered, ate some breakfast, then went back to work.
That particular time kept you on your best behaviour for a while. So much so, that Loki was pleasantly surprised one day when you asked him if he wanted to watch a movie with you after dinner.
“No more work tonight?”
“Nah, I’m gonna take it easy,” you shrugged then explained the premise of the movie you wanted to watch. He obliged, sitting with you on the couch as you watched it together. You didn’t look over at him much, other than to gauge his reactions to some of the jokes you found particularly funny, but you could’ve sworn there were moments you could feel his gaze.
The third time it’d happened, well, almost happened, it’d been a really, really bad day.
There was a small squad of Avengers, and the like, on a routine de-escalation mission somewhere in Central America. It was supposed to be a simple interception of stolen weapons, but the cartel had been much more organised than anticipated and, you found out, they were not afraid to use the immensely dangerous weapons they’d been paid dirty money to transport. You supposed you should’ve been thankful it wasn’t one of those larger-caliber guns, or one of the rocket-launchers that’d hit him, but he’d been hit nonetheless. Sam had been shot, and it was bad.
It was the kind of bad where Clint had worked with the medic on board to stabilise the unconscious Falcon and race him back to the Compound for Bruce to use the life-saving technology to tend to all the internal bleeding; it would’ve been too difficult for a standard hospital to fix. Sam was barely stable as they wheeled him through the lab, you damn near broke skin with how hard you bit the back of your hand when the gurney disappeared in the radiation-sealed room where Bruce could start the procedure.
Sam’s armour had been removed and had been laying on a bottom shelf of the gurney, but in the rush to get him into Bruce’s care, several pieces had spilled out across the ground. Your shaking fingers picked up the breastplate, you swallowed hard as you inspected the damage. Three eerily-uniform holes lay with bloody rims placed just below where his heart would‘ve beat. Lung, valves, veins, they’d all be sorely damaged. It was a miracle he wasn’t dead. You turned the piece over in your hands and your stomach dropped. Usually, if a bullet pierced armour, there’d be evidence of the way it gripped and twisted the protective gear on entry. There’d be cracking in the material, markers of resistance, signs that the armour put up a struggle. But there were none. This armour may as well have been a t-shirt. You set your jaw and placed it down, but it ended up slamming against the workbench because you hadn’t realised the surge of anxiety behind your movements.
Your brain immediately kicked into gear, into overdrive. On. It would stay on. It would not turn off until you’d made sure this would never happen again. You hadn’t made this flimsy excuse for armour, but you‘d be damned if Wilson ever stepped into the field again wearing anything less than perfect. With near-automatic movements, your hand closed around a pencil in a jar on your desk while the other grabbed a pad of isometric paper, your foot hooked around a stool and pushed it aside before you hunched standing over a the metal-topped bench and got to work.
Time meant nothing as you sketched a draft, and then another, and then a dozen more until the way the different plates fit together sat as well in your spirit as they did on the paper. He needed full range of movement. He needed to be safe.
The back was trickier considering the wings, but the wings also added that extra layer of protection when they lay dormant. The plates had to slide to allow them to unfurl, and then they needed to cover his ribs and lungs less than nanoseconds after the wings had been unleashed. He needed to be able to fly. He needed to be safe.
When Redwing was called forth, he left a cavity of lesser protection on Sam’s forearm. Not anymore. The slats would raise to fill the space, lest a bullet catch him there and tear through his wrist and he bled out because the space you’d made for Redwing made him vulnerable. But his head, what about his head? He’d refuse a full-face helmet. The idiot. You knew he’d refuse. Maybe Steve could order him to, maybe he could-
“Hey, Einstein.”
Tony’s strangely gentle voice pulled you from your final draft, but you were barely present to him, your hands already reaching under the bench to pull out the catalogue of materials available in the lab. You knew them by heart, you kind of already knew what you needed, but holding onto something solid felt like a good idea right now. “Hmm,” you responded and slammed the heavy folder on the bench, leafing it open with occasional glances to Tony.
“It’s not your fault.”
If anything could stop you in your tracks, that would be it. The gentleness of his tone made your heart constrict in your chest. You were almost too shocked to cry, but you felt the tears prick your eyes as you looked up at him and felt your face twist into some kind of panicked despair. “Is he…”
Tony looked confused, then suddenly very apologetic. “No! No, he’s fine. He’s stable.”
“Fuck, Tony!” You slammed the book shut and put your face in your hands. A few tears slipped out, but you quickly wiped them before looking at him with an intense frustration. “You’ve gotta watch how you say shit to me, you know. You really…” You trailed off, then brought yourself back to the task at hand with a winced and a stern re-opening the catalogue. You pointed to the alloy on your mind. “For his new armour. What are your thoughts?”
Tony held his breath, looking at you with a solemn understanding before casting a glance down to where your weakly positioned hand was gesturing. “Looks good,” he nodded, his tongue finding the space inside his cheek when he picked up your final draft of Sam’s new suit. “This is great work. I’ll help you get started on it tomorrow.”
You shook your head and pulled up a tablet, ordering FRIDAY to deliver a sample of the alloy. “I’m starting now.”
Tony paused, and placed the drawing down before trying to catch your eye. You didn’t look up, just kept punching the figures in. “You’ve been at it for nearly eleven hours straight.”
“No way,” you mumbled.
“Way,” he reached over and tried to pluck the tablet from your hands but you recoiled and pulled it into yourself, holding your breath as you waited for the inevitable scolding you’d assumed would come. But Steve wasn’t here, and Tony wasn’t a disciplinarian.
“Tony,” you started, in a voice much too quiet for who you actually were. “Just let me work,” you begged, eyes fixed on the ground as you held back the tears. “You hired me to work. Please let me work.”
The tense silence held for far too long, perhaps even half a minute as Tony no doubt was sifting through his mind for what the right thing to do here was. He hired you because you didn’t give up, on anything, and this right here was a logical end to that tenacity. He wanted someone stubborn and unrelenting, and he didn’t get to switch that off when it pleased him; if he hadn’t known this type of day would come, he was fooling himself. “Fine. But drink some water, for crying out loud.”
You didn’t look up as he walked out of the lab, faintly catching the numbers on your wrist telling you it was close to midnight. The tense breath you’d been holding escaped you once Tony had shut the door, and you placed the tablet back down before wiping your tired eyes and sniffing away any residual stuffiness from your tears. He’d left you alone, so you did the least you could and filled your water bottle at the small filter station in the corner.
The place Sam had been wheeled into had two points of entry and exit, so it didn’t surprise you that you hadn’t seen him come back through. At least, you’d hoped they‘d taken him out the other door and you weren’t just that oblivious, but your mind was running haywire right now. Some vague part of you blared with the reminder that Loki wouldn’t be happy to see what you were doing. That he’d scold you, punish you in his playful way… but he was still in Central America cleaning up that mess. For once, you hoped that meant something much more violent than it usually did. The guilt quickly struck you, and you shook the thoughts away, replacing them with thankfulness that Loki no longer killed Midgardians with reckless abandon. You wouldn’t have to worry about him finding you anyway. They probably wouldn’t be back for another day or so.
Now with a more hydrated brain, you started work on how the alloyed plates would shift and settle around each other. You already had a mechanism you’d designed years ago, one you constantly improved on - one that was used for a lot of the things you built, so you approached the FRIDAY-controlled trolley which contained the samples you’d ordered from the large inventory that sat in dozens of rows beneath the lab, guarded and selected by small AI’s, and started bringing your final draft to life. He needed to be safe.
Time, again, was of no consequence. Even though you began to feel a small stream of fatigue attempt to nag its way through your ear canal, you shrugged it off and honed your concentration into your senses of sight and touch. The lab was dead-quiet, but it could’ve been blasting with Tony’s punk rock playlist and you’d barely hear it. Sound was of no consequence, until the door swung open and in sauntered an familiar domineering presence.
“Agent, it’s four in the morning!” Loki’s exasperated voice resounded throughout the once-serene room. You didn’t look up from your work as his footsteps approached and he sighed dramatically. “Perhaps I’m not going hard enough on you,” he muttered, reaching out to dig his fingers into your sides.
“Lohoki,” you winced, squirming away. You couldn’t blame him for continuing, considering your reaction wasn’t too far out of the norm. He reached again and you snapped. “Stop! Just… stop!” You spat, pulling away from him. He retracted his hands and recoiled immediately, stung by the bite in your voice. You didn’t look up at him as you gripped the edge of the table and held back tears. “I can’t do this right now.”
“You need to get some rest, you-“
”I need to protect my family,” you seethed back, finally looking up so he could see the earnestness in your glassy eyes. His features softened.
Shit. You’d said family. Not teammate.
“Agent, I-”
CLUNK.
You’d reached over to that piece of breastplate and slammed it on the empty space of bench in front of Loki. “The bullet went clean through his armour,” you sniffed through gritted teeth. “It wasn’t good enough.”
“Did you make this?”
“No, but it’s my job to make things to keep everyone safe. What am I worth if I can’t even do that?” You sniffed again and turned back to the bench, picking up a screwdriver and the component of the mechanism.
“It doesn’t sit solely on your shoulders to keep everyone alive,” Loki said calmly, firmly. He reached out to you, probably to put a comforting hand on your shoulder, but you flinched away, dropped the work and turned to get something from another table. “I wasn’t-”
”I can take care of myself,” you snipped in a quiet hiss. “I’m an adult. I don’t need someone telling me what to do.”
Your back was turned and so you couldn’t see his reaction to your callous words. Your ungrateful and rude words. Part of you felt relief that you couldn’t see how they landed on him, but the other part knew you’d been too harsh and knew you deserved to see the hurt in his eyes. You rifled through the toolbox, not really needing anything in there right now, just needing an excuse to not look at Loki. He turned. You held your breath. His footsteps receded.
He didn’t say anything, he didn’t slam the door, he just left.
Knowing you were alone again, you released your bottom lip to tremble and allowed a few tears to fall from your eyes before hastily wiping them away and turning back to the cluttered workbench. You continued tinkering, feeling the tiredness pull at your mind in a more substantial way now, but releasing it with a tear when needed. The lab was silent again, save for your fidgeting and sniffling, so it wasn’t difficult to hear footsteps approaching from down the hall. Time still meant nothing. Heaven only knows how long it had been, but something innate told you it hadn’t been more than fifteen minutes. Suddenly becoming hyper-aware of your crying, you pulled some magnifying goggles over your face so whoever was entering couldn’t see your red tear-stained eyes. The door swung open.
The lack of greeting told you it was most likely Loki returning. Maybe to argue with you, maybe to carry you up to bed, maybe to try reasoning with you. The goggles focused your vision on the tiny slats you were fiddling with, so you couldn’t see him as he approached. You heard him pick up a stool, set it beside you and then place something down on the table.
“How does this work?”
His voice was gentle, earnest, kind. You bit your tongue and sheepishly removed your goggles, allowing him to see the way your face had been flushed with tears. Then, you felt a few more well up in your eyes when you saw what he’d set down in front of you.
It was a grilled cheese sandwich, still steaming hot.
“You should eat something if you’re to continue your work. I can’t promise it’ll taste any good, I- oh!” His sentence was cut off when your threw your arms around him and hugged tight, allowing a few more silent tears to fall. You sniffled and tried to measure your breath as his arms secured around you and you sank into the feeling of him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to touch you. Of course there were the bouts of tickle torture or when he carried you to bed, there were the times on the sparring mat or when he‘d place a reassuring hand on your shoulder, but this was the first time it was you simply seeking comfort from him.
“Thank you,” you whispered and reluctantly pulled away, a small incredulous laugh bubbled from your lips when you saw the browned, toasted bread and how the steam swirled into nothingness above it. He kept a hand on your shoulder and let it trail down the length of your arm, you looked back at him in time for him to see how you softened when he squeezed your hand affectionately.
“I find myself worrying about you possibly far more than I should,” he admitted, placing his other hand on top of your one he held. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re anything less than capable, I don’t believe that for a second, I- ... I just want you to be looked after.”
You half-smiled, partially in minor embarrassment from your outburst, but Loki seemed to understand; you weren’t thrown over his shoulder or forced out of the lab, you weren’t yelled at, disciplined, tackled to the ground a tickled to pieces for breaking his rule and making him worry. Because if anyone was to understand that rules were sometimes meant to be broken, it would be the God of Mischief.
“You show me far more care than I deserve.”
It felt like a cop-out way to say thank you, but it was the sum-total of what you could muster right now. You looked away and back at the table, suddenly very hungry at the sight of the sandwich. Loki beckoned you to sit, and so you did, eagerly devouring the food he’d brought. It tasted wonderful. Who would’ve guessed an alien prince could whip up such fantastic comfort-food. As you ate, he listened as you explained what you were trying to do, though you felt less eloquent and you were rambling more than normal. You blinked your eyes hard to keep them open, then finally sighed and stopped mid-sentence.
“I think I need to go to bed,” you mumbled, perching your elbow against the table and cradling your cheek in one hand. With some lame attempt at humour, you sighed at look at Loki, asking, “Did you put something in that sandwich? Some Asgardian sleeping herbs or whatever?”
He half-smirked, half-grinned and shook his head. “I should’ve.” He then stood, and placed a gentle hand between your shoulders in a beckon for you to follow through on your responsible declaration. With one final look at the prototype you’d barely made a dent in, you stood and allowed him to lead you away from your work. When you left the room, the building could sense there was no more life in the vicinity, and the lights faded out the second the door had closed.
Loki walked with you silently up to your room while your mind still whirred with the designs and the ideas for your prototype. It flashed with images of Sam being wheeled through the lab, his eyes shut, that tube coming out of his mouth, the sound of that insufficient armour as it clanged to the ground. Loki seemed to understand the way your mind was racing, so he didn’t ask. He opened the door to your room and watched as you walked past, and he then leaned against the doorway after you’d entered. You paused and turned back to him, wringing your hands nervously.
“Do you...” You held your breath. “Do you think you can do that sleeping spell thing on me again?” The question was spoken quietly and hopefully. “My brain’s a little all over the place and… I don’t- I-I don’t think I can quiet it down right now.”
While Loki’s face morphed into a sympathetic understanding, he shook his head and dashed your hopes. “I only did so the first time because you were incoherent. I perhaps shouldn’t have even done so then,” he admitted. “It’s far too addictive.”
You would’ve argued with him, but that would be proving his point, so you instead nodded and looked at the floor, the smallest bit mortified for having asked him to drug you to sleep with magic. As he often did, he seemed to sense what you were feeling, because he stepped forwards ever so slightly.
“I can stay. If it would help to not be alone,” you looked up at him, his diffidence surprised you. It was strange to see him so hesitant.
”Do you want to stay?” You felt your breath hitch in your throat, asking yourself why it was so damn hard to be calm right now. He nodded.
“Yes. If you’d like me to.”
You drank in the sight of his willing offer of comfort, the thought of his strong arms wrapped around you as you did all you could to calm the churning storm clouds creeping into your mind, your lungs, your heart. You allowed yourself to be selfish, to want him to stay, to want the feeling of someone so strong, so undeterred by your stubbornness. It didn’t seem fair to him, that he was standing here after you’d treated him with callousness. After you’d tried to shove him away, and he’d returned with the kindest gesture imaginable: to keep you going, to look after you so you could look after others, to let you decide. It didn’t seem fair that you still wanted to ask him if he’d killed the man who’d shot Sam. If he’d killed him with the same hands that’d made you dinner. Or… breakfast. What was it at four in the morning?
You nodded, not really knowing what else to do. You nodded, and looked at the ground before whispering, “Please.”
Time still felt irrelevant, because it felt like both seconds and hours between the moment you’d welcomed Loki into your room and the moment you’d slipped beneath your sheets after having changed into pyjama shorts and a t-shirt. Your teeth felt clean and minty, but you didn’t really recall doing that. Your mind must’ve been elsewhere.
As Loki settled in next to you and turned the lamp off, you were left with the shadows cast by the full moon against your windowsills. The geometric patterns splashed across the floor, and your focus snapped to them as your mind traced the edges of the refractions of moonlight. Moonlight was just sunlight, it was all the same, it just seemed different so it was called something different. It was the same source, the same energy, could that energy provide an extra layer of protection to the armour? Solar power. If you could add something that would harness the power of captured light to redistribute into-
You were pulled from your thoughts by the feeling of Loki’s hand sliding over the fingers you’d been fidgeting by your side. You’d left your hand on top of the covers, in between the two of you, and he’d taken it to hold. Something about the sureness of his action made your breath catch, especially when you felt his fingers lace through yours. You released that breath, and it felt like some deeper part of your lungs had finally been emptied for the first time all day. Like you were breathing from your whole body, and not just from your throat. He squeezed your hand, and you caught and released another deep puff of air.
Timidness be damned. You let go of his hand and turned to face him, sliding an arm over his middle while the other folded beneath and between the two of you. If Loki was surprised by your action, he gave no indication. He instead guided your head to rest on the steadfast place where his arm met his body. His hand didn’t leave the place it’d met the side of your head to guide you to rest, instead his fingers carded through your hair and tenderly trailed over your scalp, sending waves of fuzzy comfort pulsing through your nerves. Again, a deeper breath was released. And another.
The arm he’d placed around you to keep you close then met your waist, his steady and firm palm cool against the thin fabric of your shirt. When his hand rested there, you did all you could to make him know it was okay. That more was okay. So you didn’t stop the small whimpering sign that sounded with the next release of your tension through yet another deep breath. Loki may have chuckled, or perhaps cleared his throat. Whatever made his chest rumble against your ear and vibrate through your own lungs was of no consequence, what mattered was that you could feel it. Feel his chest rise and fall, his heartbeat, the warmth of his breath moving the hairs atop your head, and you could feel his hand slip beneath the hem of your shirt to rest his skin against yours.
So as the deepest breath yet was released in response, you allowed yourself to think that maybe you weren’t being selfish, or demanding, or needy, by desiring comfort from this strong and steady Asgardian who’d opened his arms to you. Maybe you did deserve the care he poured out. Whether that care came in the form of strange methods to get you to take care of yourself, a disapproving look at yet another cup of coffee, a grilled cheese sandwich at four in the morning, or a tender hand resting against your skin, maybe you deserved it all. You let yourself dream, as you succumbed to slumber against Loki of Asgard, that if he thought you deserved the care he gave, that perhaps you were worth it.
I think a lot of people (not necessarily the tumblr community) still see loki as this all chaotic god of mischief and destruction. While there’s no denying that he is absolute chaotic and mischievous, there is so much more to their love than that. To be honest, a lot of the Lokeans I have spoke to can attest to this. Loki is a god of SELF LOVE. He is the one who is teaching me to stand up for myself and tell people no, to push the boundaries I have set for myself and see where the world can take me. They are the one who has taught me that self care is not selfish. There is so much more to his than his mischief. Once we learn that, there is a never ending amount of things you can learn from them. With that being said, here is a list of devotional acts I have done for loki in the two hours I have been awake
- I brushed and flossed my teeth
- I brushed my hair
- I ate breakfast and packed a lunch for work
- I found a new strechmark on my body and tried not to get upset !!!
(This is still in process, loving my body is hard)
- I drank water and took my medication
- Prayed and journaled
Are you sensing a pattern here? Loving yourself and taking care of your body is important! Loki wants nothing more from us than for us to be happy, confident, and feel loved. If you can’t do these basic actions on your own behalf, why not make them acts of devotion for Loki? He will gladly accept these offerings with open arms. You are loved, He loves you. He, and I want the best for you. No matter what, you’re doing a great job.
Wishing all the Loki stans who are getting hate for their opinion regarding the show a very “I hope this doesn’t effect your mental health, you are awesome, valid, and don’t deserve any of this shit. I love you! <3 <3 <3”
To those sending me messages about engaging with me in plots and of the like, I'm deeply sorry to say I no longer partake in such events. I was once heavily active here but alas I'm much too busy. I pop in once a month to reply to questions and that's about it.
It makes me happy to know you all wish to engage with me but I'm unavailable to and each time I do it's often heavily one sided or is often met with wanting a deep connection with me. I have someone I already call my queen and she is just as gone and busy as I am.
I'm sorry for any inconveniences I may have caused you.
