moonlight sunrise: loki x f!reader, enemies to friends to lovers, compilation of the antics between a healer and her mischievous god. (discontinued)
devil's advocate: titus x f!reader, enemies to friends to lovers. right hand secretary to the most powerful family in the world. too bad that the son is so vexing.
synopsis: first night and day on the job. good luck. you've got a shadow (titus)
w.c.: 3.7k AO3 ver. series masterlist <prev | next>
tags: this chapter slow as fuck BUT LET ME COOK. bit nsfw (panties are left out and titus is not normal about it). reader and titus are not even freaky here, they are just on the same spectrum of strange. titus x secretary!f!reader. enemies to friends(?) to lovers/partners in crime. NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN. not proofread either, whoops. proper capitalization and grammar used in actual fic.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Your alarm blares at 3:30 AM. You immediately hit snooze. Five more minutes.
It goes off again, but you don’t get up to snooze it until 3:37 AM.
Ugh, just let me die here., you nuzzle your face into the soft pillow. The thick duvet engulfs you back into your warm slumber. Man, sleep never felt like this back in my old apartment.
The alarm reads 3:42 AM.
I should probably keep it that way.
With a groan, you roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom. The cold, hardwood floor sending jolts up your legs but what actually wakes you up is the splash of cold water on your face.
Breakfast, downstairs. Ready her coat.
You get ready, putting on a less formal attire of a white button-up with a long pencil skirt. You fiddle with the black tie, thinking the outfit is too simple. Maybe an Eldredge instead, your thoughts whirl as you make the knot, Is the chef even up at this hour? Should I have informed them earlier? Let me check the kitchens.
You put on stockings, but neglect your shoes, not wanting to wake the house at the sound of your kitten heels tapping. You make your way down stairs, making turns and backtracking until you find the kitchen.
It was huge, made for a restaurant. All metal, shiny, and cold - and with no one in sight. You peruse around, finding a schedule board and seeing that there is a breakfast planned at 6:30 AM. You breathe a sigh of relief. Then your stomach gurgles.
Maybe I should get some breakfast, too. You sneak around through the pantries, settling on something small that the kitchen probably won’t miss. Toast with butter and some eggs. You only use one pan on the stove for all of it. You don’t even use a plate, eating out of the pan, wanting to leave as little of a trace as possible.
After cleaning up, you make your way over to Ursula’s “dressing room”. Her wardrobe is so large that most of it can’t even fit her closet, so there’s a whole room for it. Your hand hovers over the pieces hung on velvet hangers. Some of this stuff you’ve seen on runways, on famous models, magazines, and its right here in front of you. A glint catches your eye as you turn to see a case full of jewelry. Beautiful designs embedded with blood diamonds. Oh, how they sparkled.
Focus. Coat.
Since everything is sorted by clothing type, you find the coat rack pretty easily. All the clothes you own probably fit into this one section. “Nour Hammour, Nour Hammour…”, you mutter as you flip through the coats, looking at the tags. You find a few in different designs. Which one does she want?, you inspect them closer before settling on the shorter black one without the fur. It’s not that cold where we are going and the design of this one looks pretty sleek. You figure that if push comes to shove, you can try to bullshit your way out of it.
Coat done, breakfast is taken care of., you check the time as you make your way upstairs. 5:45 AM. Not too bad on time. You decide to make sure everything is packed for Ursula and yourself before you go to wake her up.
Little did you know that you weren’t the only one awake at this hour.
Titus awoke to your alarm the first time. The walls are in no way thin and your alarm was not particularly loud, but Titus - attuned to everything in his proximity - woke up to it anyway. “So fucking early.”, he grumbled, sitting up to look for the source of the disturbance only to find that it is across the hall. He flops back down and holds the pillow over his head to try and block out the noise.
Respite.
For only a short while.
By the third alarm, he is at your door, ready to burst in and tell you to turn that shit off when he hears you getting up. He pauses for a bit and just listens. He hears the faucet turn on and off. You scuffling about. What are you doing at this hour?, he crosses his arms. Your footsteps come closer and he ducks into the dark corner, watching you leave your room. No shoes?, Titus wonders, quietly following you downstairs.
He gets an idea and breaks off to head to the security camera room. One guy is sitting at the console, dozing off. Titus kicks the guy’s chair, jolting him awake. “Get the fuck out of here.”, he tsks and the guy scrambles out of the room. Titus looks around the screen and sees you in the kitchen.
What the hell is she doing?, he sits down and leans back into his chair, watching you sneak around the kitchen, taking things from the pantry.
If she’s so fucking hungry, just wake the chef or something., he enlarges the window on the screen so he can take a closer look, She’s eating out of the fucking pan. How pathetic… She shouldn’t have to do that.
Titus tracks you through the cameras. Scurrying around the house, still no shoes. She thinks she’s being sneaky, how cute., he thinks when he realizes why, not noticing how the corners of his lips twitched up. You turn into one of Ursula’s room and Titus stiffens. If she’s stealing food, she might just steal from her bosses., Titus switches cameras and watches you admire the wardrobe. He huffs to himself, Knew it. Knew she was here for something else. He watches you snap back into focus and pick out one coat and then rush upstairs to set it on a coat rack outside your door.
What?, his brows furrow and if anything saw him now, they’d think he’s pouting. I don’t get it. Why didn't she just take the shit? We probably wouldn’t miss this shit. Man, even Miriam took a couple earrings.
Titus rubs his hand over his face, Maybe it’ll take a couple of days. She’s probably the patient, opportunistic type.
After minutes of you not coming out of your room, he decides to head back and maybe catch up on the sleep he missed. By the time he gets back to his door, he sees yours opened just a crack. You weren’t inside.
Titus can hear your muffled voice down the hall. The grandfather clock at the far side of the wall read 6:30 AM. Oh, right. The flight., he groans, Guess I’ll sleep on the plane.
He angles himself so he can get a glimpse into your room. He sees an open suitcase, some of your things strewn about, but not much else. Hm, he reaches out and pushes the door open, I’ll consider this compensation for waking me up. Titus strides into the room, not bothering to be stealthy since he (his dad) literally owns the place. The smell of the room has already changed from when Miriam was in it. He sniffs deeply, catching notes of something sweet, maybe vanilla, and a soft musk that is purely you. He gulps down his saliva before he can drool. He looks around at the unmade bed, the small pile of laundry on the edge of it… and the bright red lace thong on top of it.
Is that what you were wearing yesterday? Walking around the whole day with only that underneath your skirt?, Titus can feel himself start to harden, replaying yesterday’s event with this newfound knowledge.
“What are you doing in my room, Mr. Danforth?”, you stand at the doorway, your tone light and not accusatory. Perfectly professional.
Titus’ jaw tightens, “You know…”, he stalks over to you, ignoring your question, “It’s awfully rude to steal food from us."
You gulp and he watches your neck flex. "Contract stipulates that my meals are part of my compensation working here. I simply didn't see the reason in waking the kitchen staff and possibly jeapordize the quality of you and Ms. Danforth's breakfast with sleep depravation.". If Titus didn't know any better, he would say that your grin is positively shit-eating. You furrow your brows in mock concern, "It already is so early."
Titus can only laugh at the sheer audacity. You walk past him and close your suitcase shut. "Your breakfast is ready for you downstairs. Would you like for me to pack your things as well?", you slide the handle up with a click, ready to back him out of the room.
Titus shakes his head, "No, no. If I need anything, I'll just buy it when I get there." He is filled with glee when your eye twitches ever so slightly.
You grin to compensate, "Understood." You move forward, ushering him out of the room. Titus only obliges out of amusement, of course.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
"Surprised to see you up so early.", Ursula cuts into her eggs, "You usually sleep until the last possible moment whenever we have a flight. I was starting to think it was just to spite me."
Titus takes a sip of his milk before speaking, "Don't worry. I'll make up for it on the plane."
Ursula scoffs, almost laughing. It would be difficult for them to hear each other, sitting at opposite ends of this ornate table, but the only other thing filling the silence is the scraping of silverware against porcelain. Ursula goes back to scrolling on her phone while Titus clenches and unclenches his fist, ceasing only when you enter the room.
"Good morning Mr. and Ms. Danforth. Your things are packed and the car is waiting outside, whenever you two are ready to depart.", you turn to talk solely to Ursula, "Would you like a brief overview of your day today?"
Ursula is delighted at your proactiveness, "Yes, please. I got a text from Chelsea that she would like to meet me while we're in London, and I haven't had the time to have girls night out in so long!"
"Well, you have meetings early in the following morning, so I wouldn't recommend a late-night out.", you begin, flicking through her schedule, "However, after your quick appearance at the Danforth Enterprise opening and your meeting at 3pm, you'll have a few hours to spend with Chelsea before your wind-down rountine at 8 pm, so you'll be well-rested for the following day."
Ursula hums, "Sounds good."
"You're free to invite Chelsea to the evening gala you're attending on Wednesday, if you would still prefer a night out with her.", you suggest tentatively.
Ursula shakes her head, "Not what I had in mind. Plus, Chelsea would be a bit… out of place at an event like that."
Ok, whatever that means I guess, you nod as you input the new events into her calendar. Your to-do list keeps getting longer by the minute.
Soon, the Danforths were ready to leave. Cutting it close, you think to yourself as you pluck the machiatto from the delivery boy's hands and hand it to Ursula, handing him a $10 tip behind your back. Ursula barely acknowledges it as the driver opens the door for her and she slides inside. You skeddadle to get into the car before Titus, so that you can slide into the back without impeding him. He tries to hide his staring by putting on his aviators. You think he looks stupid wearing sunglasses inside a car. He isn't even driving., you think as you turn on the tablet's motion cues so you don't get car sick while checking Ursula's emails and other contacts.
The drive to the private plan was so quiet, you almost fell asleep in the car ride, barely catching yourself as the car skidded to a stop. Holy shit, I'm fully on the runway thing., you are both excited and terrified as you walk behind the siblings to the private jet in front of you.
Ursula takes a seat at the table and you sit across the aisle from her. Titus immediately heads to the bed further down the jet. You sit there, mouth agape, admiring the interior. The polished wood accents, the smooth leather seats, the view from the window, the leg room.
"You act like you've never been a private jet before.", Ursula speaks and it takes you catching the smirk on her face to realize that she's joking.
"I'll get used to it. Don't worry.", you banter back. She seems to welcome it.
After watching the window as the plane takes off and the view of the city turns into a sea of blue and white puffs of clouds, you turn to your tablet. As you search for possible places to shop, dine, and other hangout activities in case Ursula and Chelsea need suggestions, you can felt exhaustion bite at the corner of the consciousness. You eye Ursula who types at the computer and force yourself to stay awake. It's your first week and you're already about to fall asleep on the job. Get it together, you force yourself to push on.
By the time you composed an email summarizing VIP correspondences and sent it to Ursula, you heard it ding in her laptop. You look over and see her leaned back, eyes closed. Only then did you feel comfortable to rest your head against the plane wall and fall asleep.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Oh, how cute., Titus thinks as he takes the opposite seat facing you. You looked so peaceful, eyes shut, temple resting on the border of the window, hands barely hanging on to the slipping tablet. Your neck is going to hate you when you wake up.
The tablet hits the carpet with a thud, startling you awake. You barely open your eyes to reach forward and grab it off the floor, wiping the corners of your mouth for any escaped drool. You shimmy back into your previous position before fully registering who was in front of you.
"Good morning. Working hard?", Titus is the only one who found that funny.
He is so old, you grimace.
"Already sleeping on the job.", Titus tuts at you.
You roll your eyes, "Apologies, Mr. Danforth. I forget myself.", your voice hides a bite that makes Titus smile.
You decide to busy yourself with your tablet again. Checking emails, making a small budget for yourself to get a new outfit when you get the chance, going back to the itinterary and memorizing the little details. All the while, Titus sits there and stares at you. He shifts every now and then, rubbing his stubble, crossing his legs. At one point, his shoe taps against yours.
"Yes?", you don't look up from your screen.
Titus frowns and doesn't respond.
You look up and repeat yourself, "Did you need me for something, Mr. Danforth."
Titus smiles and gives a curt, "Nope."
This repeats three more times. You consider defenestrating yourself and taking everyone in this jet with you.
"Remind me how old you are again, Mr. Danforth.", you spit since you could bite your tongue no longer.
"Shouldn't you already know that?", he teases, "Man, you just keep getting worse and worse at your job."
No drug can reach the high of watching a vein form on your forehead, Titus decides. You seethe, unable to ignore the silver foxed manchild in front of you. You give your most saccharine grin to him, but your death grip on the arm rest already gave you away. "If you have an issue with my services, please let me know how I can improve.", your customer service tone could rival Siri.
Titus pretends to ponder it for a second, scanning you up and down. "Services, huh?", his voice gets gravely as his eyes run up your stocking-clad legs. You fight the urge to clench them together and cross them on top of each other.
"Don't get any ideas.", you clear your throat.
"Only if you get a clue.", Titus retorts.
"Oh my god, can you two stop already?", Ursula interjects, pinching the bridge of her nose before turning to glare at Titus, "Mind leaving my secretary alone? For like one day?!"
Titus shrugs and crosses his arms, biceps bulging against the sleeves of his well-fitted t-shirt. You tear your eyes away with a bite of your lip.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
I didn't know they built houses this high up, you thought as you gaped at the spacious penthouse overlooking the city. Double french doors opened up into the perfect dining set up on the balcony, curtains flowing in the breeze and all. Everything screamed sophistication. The chandelier was glittering, but not gaudy. Every magnolia and lily was careful placed in their vase to form a half dome of white.
Titus and Ursula barely gave it a second look as they walked in.
"Your room is on the right!", Ursula called over her shoulder as she disappeared down a hallway, the bellboy following behind her with her bags.
You lug your bags by yourself to your room.
If this is my room, I don't even know how they fit Titus and Ursula's rooms in here. You drop you bags haphazardly, since taking up too much floor space is clearly not an issue. You check out the bathroom. Fully stocked with soft towels and a vanity full of freebies that you could never afford otherwise. You head to the window and pull the curtains to the side, letting what little light peeking through the London fog in. You swear you can see all the way to the Atlantic.
A knock at your door makes you turn around to see the bellboy peeking through.
"Hi.", he seems shy, though you don't know what for, "Um, would you like any room service as well?"
Your brain lags because you haven't even thought of the amenities you could be a part of here, "Oh, just a coffee for me. Thank you", you read his name tag, "Sam."
He smiles and turns to head out, but you stop him. "Wait, did they tip you yet?", you ask, not quite sure how this works at this level of luxury.
"Oh, uh. No. No, they didn't.", he puts his hands up to stop me when I reached into my purse, "Hey, it's ok. They charge gratuity automatically to us, so…"
You shake your head as you hand him two £50 bills, "Please, it's the least they can do. Plus, you have been great. I know the Danforth's don't pack light, so consider this a reward for your hard work." The way Sam lights up makes you very happy that Ursula let you hold onto the cash for this trip.
Sam scampers off, almost running into Titus as he enters, which earns the bellboy a glare. Titus scoffs, "You done frolicking with the help, yet?"
The smile on your face falls, "I'm technically also a part of the help, am I not?"
Titus scoffs, "Yeah, some help you are. Shouldn't you be with my sister or something? Thought we had some stupid opening we have to attend."
Well, unlike you…, you nod, "Your sister is fully capable of getting ready herself and apparently some room service was ordered." You pick up your bags and start hanging things up in the closet, "It would be rude of us to suddenly leave when they arrive."
Titus squints at the clothes you pull out, "Well, it's their job to- Are you seriously going to be wearing that?"
You look at the evening dress in your hands. It's simple, black, appropriate. "Yes. Is there a problem?", you furrow your brow at him.
Titus takes a closer look at the dress, "Yeah. You can't show up with that.", he hands you a wad of bills. "Get something else. Something better.", he turns and swiftly leaves the room like he didn't want to be caught caring about something.
You retort dies in your throat as you fully feel the weight of the cash in you hand. Something better, you mock his voice in your head, How about you better shut your fucking mouth? Stupid, rich bitch. Didn't know Regina George reincarnated to a 50 year old man. You take another look at the dress. It was really simple. Shit, you got it off the clearance rack at Nordstrom. Maybe he has a point, you groan internally at the admission, This would make me look out of place.
"Ugh, fine.", you mutter to yourself, "He could've phrased it more nicely though…"
You call the concierge if they can bring up a few evening gowns in your size. "Yes, and do not put it on the Danforth's tab. I'd like to pay in cash, please.", you speak into the phone tucked into neck. The desk lady says that the gowns will be ready by tonight for you to try on and you thank her.
Sam knocks at your door, "Your coffee is here." He hands you a mug and you thank him. You take sips of the well-brewed drink as you head to Ursula's room.
"We have to go in fifteen minutes.", you watch Ursula put on her pearl earrings before chucking a folder into her Birkin.
"Got it.", she rushes past you to bang on the door across, "Titus! We're leaving!"
You hear him yell, words muffled but his disgruntlement clear. You follow Ursula out the door with Titus trailing not far behind.
It only just hit you that you're about experience a completely new world. You've only had a taste of it, only been contained in the small bubble of the Danforth's. In a short car ride, you're going to be completely surrounded by a realm of wealth and power previously unknown to you - and you'll be completely alone in facing it. Complete fish out of water. Will you choke on the fresh air?
No choice but to adapt., you mentally brace yourself. While Ursula gives Titus the run down of how to act like a normal person, you pray to whatever higher being can hear you: Don't let them see me. Don't let them take me. A small impulsive part of yourself whispers, Just let me take their money.
You don't notice Titus stealing glances of you from the front seat.
synopsis: being ursula's danforth's secretary comes with a lot of benefits. shopping sprees, traveling the world, sitting at the right hand of the world's most powerful family. too bad it comes at the cost of being by the side of her absolutely vexing twin brother. oh, and selling your soul.
w.c.: 3.6k AO3 ver. series masterlist next part
tags: cursing like a sailor. reader and titus are FREAKS, both of them are bad people and they kinda don't care. somewhat dark!fic. abusive/toxic power dynamics: titus x secretary!f!reader. this is gonna be a slowburn y'all. enemies to friends(?) to lovers/partners in crime. NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN. not proofread either, whoops. proper capitalization and grammar used in actual fic. GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE
disclaimer: i do not condone all the fucked up shit that happens in this fic. if your lover does this shit to you, run the other direction. this stuff stays in fiction and in our imaginations.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
There’s something deeply wrong with this manor. Something about its high ceilings resembling a sky with no sun and the candlelit dark oak walls tricking you into seeing shadows at the corner of your eyes.
You set your jaw tight, eyes flitting around to find whatever is making your skin crawl. You feel someone’s eyes on you, but where is it coming from?
…
There!
You spin around as you catch something fly behind you in your periphery. What behind you was a man in his 50s, dressed smartly, but not as if he is headed for an event. No, he’s dressed like all he has in his closet is custom and designer. This is his regular attire: archive Balenciaga on a Monday.
“Woah!”, he puts his hands up, “Just who the fuck are you?!”
Titus Danforth, you recall from the family profiles you read, He sounds way different from how he looks. Thought he’d be more…refined.
You easily collect yourself, “Mr. Danforth, I presume.”
“Yeah?”, his childish tone clashed with his curly gray hair, “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“I apologize for the intrusion.”, you nod and take a step back, “I am your sister’s new assistant.”
“Ah.”, he drawls out the vowel as he’s actively remembering the detail he previously didn’t give a shit about. "So, you're the replacement.”, he tsks, "What a joke."
You ignore his comment. “I’m aware that Ms. Danforth will be arriving from her engagement soon, but I wanted to be early.” Titus walks around you, studying you. You hold your guard, refusing to buckle under his intense gaze. You turn to face him with a soft smile, “Could you please direct me to her office, so I could wait for her?”
He scoffs, “What do I look like to you?”
“Mr. Danforth, sir.”, you answer matter-of-factly.
“Exactly.”, he steps closer towards you as you fall back, “So, why the hell do you think that you can boss me around my own house?”, he practically spits at you.
Jesus, it’s just directions. It’s not that deep, you think - but what comes out was, “My apologies, Mr. Danforth. I shall wait for her in the foyer.” Your tone was steady and your smile still plastered on.
As you turn to head back to the front of the house, you hear him mutter, “Huh. The assistant needing assistance, what a fucking joke.”
Dick.
You retrace your steps back to the front entrance. It’s too hot outside, so you decide to stand in the hall, blankly staring at a Danforth family portrait. The oil paint feathers about the canvas, colors desaturated with age. Chester Danforth’s face is grim with Titus mimicking the same frown, but instead of it conveying the same stoicism, it comes across as a child wearing his father’s suit. Ursula’s chin is held up high, a smile on her face. Assured, confident, capable. Both of the twins’ hands are on their father’s shoulders, but Chester’s right shoulder is towards only one.
And she has arrived.
The rushing of staff towards the hallway alerts you to the sound of a car pulling up outside. You straighten and brush whatever lint you imagine is on your suit and put on a soft smile. The doors open.
“Oh, and clear my afternoon. I have a new-”, Ursula walks through and stops in front of you, “Speaking of… You must be my new secretary.”
You nod, once and deep, just under a bow, “Yes, pleasure to meet you Ms. Danforth.” You introduce yourself, eyes glancing to the older lady behind her - your predecessor. She speaks, her posh accent cutting through, “Interviewed her myself, ma’am. I believe she is… a good fit for my position.” Ursula eyes you up and down with a smirk, “High praise coming from you, Miriam.”
You remember that interview process. Felt more like you were interviewing for the CIA than an assistant job, but you figured “It’s the Danforth’s. Probably just rich people bullshit.”
One thing stood out to you that whole process.
They had you kill a goat.
It was between you and this other guy for the position. Well, you, the guy, and this black goat bleating at you. You admit you were curious, but you let the guy ask the question for you.
“Why?”, he asked, voice watery.
Miriam didn’t answer, simply handing him the knife and repeating her prompt, “Kill it.”
You remember how he gripped the handle. The blade shook as the water in his voice came out onto his face. Maybe he was as desperate for work as you were. Maybe he didn’t know what else to do. Maybe he had a past with goats and this thing was getting real personal for him. Either way, the way the yell ripped from him as he charged the poor thing. Swinging wildly, viscera flying everywhere. He plunged it over and over into the crying goat. You think he wasn’t really looking since sometimes the knife hit the dirt.
“Stop.”, Miriam ordered curtly.
He didn’t. His hand gripped the neck of the corpse and the other kept plunging the blade into its guts.
“Christopher. Cease immediately.”, Miriam’s tone now tinged with annoyance. It finally makes him stop.
He gets up, suit stained red, knees covered in dirt. He doesn’t speak. He stopped crying too.
Another goat is brought in. White as snow, curiously sniffing the air. It doesn’t even glance at its dead brother on the ground next to it.
Miriam passes the knife to you. “You have the same task. Kill it.”
The handle is sticky against your palm and hard to hold. You take out a handkerchief to wipe off the blood, “Is there a specific manner in which you would like the goat killed?” Miriam’s mouth twitches, “No…but maybe don’t make such a mess.”
“Yes, ma’am.”, you respond as you kneel before the goat. You let it sniff your hand. It allows you to run your hands along its head. Through the skull, maybe?, you consider, It’s too thick and I don’t have that strength. I need to make this as quick and painless as possible. You catch its pulse on the side of its neck. There!
You pet the goat’s fur one more time.
“I’m sorry.”, you whisper softly.
You plunge the knife deep into the goat’s carotid. The blood gushes out onto you. You quickly stab at the other side of the goat’s neck before connecting the two cuts. The white creature falls over, wet with red. You can see it’s heart pump furiously against its chest. You watch its chest rise and fall slower and slower.
Not as quick as you hoped.
Its blood seeps into your clothes, warm with guilt. You want to throw up, but you just stand there.
Miriam looks pleased.
She makes you carry the goats to dispose of them into some kind of pit. Christopher kept muttering next you about the paintings, but you can’t really see anything past the goat in your arms and the floor in front of you.
When it was over, you two change into new suits and handed over your old ones. On your way out, Christopher grips your shoulders, screaming about, “This is beyond fucked up. We gotta go, man! We gotta call someone. The police, the news.” You can’t feel him shake you because all you can feel the warmth of the goat’s blood. You don’t respond. You barely even react. You just walk home.
You never saw Christopher again, but you did get an email in the morning beginning with “Congratulations!”
Now, you’re here. Walking behind Ursula, holding a tablet with a color coded calendar on your screen.
You zone back in to catch the tail end of the tour. “And this is where my office is and where you’ll be!”, Ursula smiles as she gives Miriam her coat to hang up and sets her bag down. “Ok,” she claps her hands together as she sits down, “quick trial run. Let’s see what you got.”
You straighten and hold your pen at the ready, notes open.
“Move my 4:00 pm meeting to tomorrow at noon. Move my noon meeting to 3 and email Mr. Field a reminder that the documents need to be sent at the end of the week. I need you to pick up my usual at Starbucks before my flight tomorrow, speaking of which, you need to wake me at 6:30 AM sharp for that. Book me a spa appointment, I’m thinking in about 3 hours, and tell the chef that I’m craving Italian today.”, she lists off, “Actually. Cancel the noon meeting. I’ll have it on Friday instead.” Urusula looks up at you with a smirk, “You got that?”
You look down at your shorthand on the screen, “4:00 pm meeting moved to Friday. Noon is moved to 3. Your usual of a caramel macchiato with your custom add-ins will be ready before you leave for your flight. Your spa will be ready for you in three hours and it will be at the Danforth resort since I believe you’re too tired to travel anymore today. Don’t worry, I’ll ensure that the spa is all yours with everything available. I will send the emails and inform the chef shortly. Is there anything specific you would like during your 6:30 AM wake up? Breakfast in bed or a specific outfit ready for you?”, you finish with a smile that is not smug, just polite.
Ursula tries to hide that she’s impressed, “I’ll have breakfast downstairs, but make sure that my Nour Hammour jacket is ready for my flight tomorrow. I’m trying to do that comfy, yet chic thing with my airport fashion.”
“Will do, ma’am.”
“That will be all.”, Ursula shoos you away as you’re left with Miriam to figure out the rest of the job details.
As you round the corner, you turn to Miriam, “What does she want in her macchiato, again?” Miriam’s face betrays her amusement, “Cold foam, caramel drizzle, and a dash of cinnamon.” You scribble down the order and file it away. As you walk alongside Miriam, you start making calls to the Danforth resort before ultimately sitting at the kitchen counter writing emails as Miriam fetches the head chef.
You finish writing up the last of it before Titus glides into the kitchen, sparing you a withering glance like he’s offended that you’re still here. You keep quiet and try to ignore him, but it’s proving to be a difficult task since he’s decided to lean against the counter, peering over your shoulder. Hitting send, you swivel around to face him, “Can I assist you with anything, Mr. Danforth?”
He is much closer than you expected. His arm, propped up next to you, is radiating heat and you can see his stubble pepper the sides of his jaw. His eyes look almost shark-like with how dark they are, but now that you’re so close you can see that they’re actually hazel.
“Can you get the fuck out of my house?”, Titus gestures with his hand, the spoon clicking against the small jar of caviar.
Asshole. Comically, so., you think.
“Unfortunately, as I will be your sister’s personal assistant for the foreseeable future, I cannot leave. Is there anything else I can do for you?”, you say with a smile. Your professional, almost robotic tone makes his eyebrow twitch. Good.
He mutters a “Yeah, go fuck yourself.” as he slips away.
Is he contractually obligated to say fuck in every single sentence? He probably learned the world yesterday. Immature, son of a-
“Miriam, do you have to go?”, Titus whines as Miriam enters the room, “I don’t like the new girl. Maybe you could postpone your retirement a few more years.”
Miriam gives Titus a stern look, “Now, Titus, play nice. She’s perfectly capable of doing my job.”
Selfish of him to ask that of her. I mean the lady looks like she’s two decades past retirement age and who knows how long she’s been doing this shit. Let her rest, man. See her grandkids. If she even found the time to have any with this family.
Titus pouts and digs back into his caviar, eating thousands of dollars worth of it like it’s nothing. It probably is nothing to him.
Miriam clears her throat and gestures to the man next to her, “This is Chef Martin. He’s been cooking for the Danforths for as long as I can remember.”
Chef Martin and you shake hands as you introduce yourself to each other. “‘Ave you any experience with fine dining and cuisine?”, his accent is thick through his honey-warm tone. You shake your head, “Unfortunately, not, sir.” He tsks, “Well, we have to change that.”, he wags a finger in your direction. “This kitchen is only for show, the real one is on the lower levels since we need a much, much bigger space for the things we will be cooking.”, he gestures in a way you find very endearing, “I ‘ear that Madame Danforth wants Italian for dinner, tonight.”, he dramatically puts a hand over his chest, “Breaking my ‘eart. But! What the Danforths want, I shall deliver!”
You can’t help but smile, “If you ever find the time, I’d love to come down into the kitchen and watch your craft. It’d be a shame to not see you in your element, sir.” He laughs, loud and deep, “I like this one, she’s cute.”, he gives Miriam a playful bump as he heads back down to the kitchens.
Miriam has trouble forcing the corners of her mouth back down as she turns back towards me. “There is some free time left in the schedule. Have you fully moved in yet?”
You shake your head, “No, ma’am. My things were taken by some of the other staff when I arrived, but I have not been to my room yet.”
“I’ll take her.”, Titus interjects, much to your confusion, “It’s your old room, right?”
Miriam confirms, “Yes. I’ve already moved out, so the space is free to make your own.”
Titus sucks whatever was on his thumb, setting his finished jar on the counter. “Come. Follow me.”, his face is hard to read, but his eyes are boring holes straight into you. A sense of dread creeps up your neck and you glance over at Miriam for a possible out, but she’s already making her way down the hall away from you.
Dammit. Ok, whatever. Just keep it together.
You compose yourself and quickly gather your things and rush to catch up with Titus. He guides you up the staircase, the incoming night making the candlelight glow even brighter and casting even bigger shadows along the paintings on the wall. “Since we need to have our assistants by us at all times, their rooms are not too far from ours.”, he walks down a dark green hallway, “In fact”, he stops at a door, “yours is right across from mine.”
You brows furrow, Weird layout, but ok.
You shouldn’t ask questions, you really shouldn’t, but everything about this man is such an oddity and it’s eating you alive.
“Do you have a personal assistant as well, Mr. Danforth?”, you keep your tone as neutral as possible. A desperate cry of not being alone in this cloaked in a softball question.
“No.”, he gives a small shake of his head. You despair.
He continues, “No, I don’t. I don’t really need one since Father tends to give Ursula all the responsibilities. I did ask for one, though.”, his voice drops to a mutter, “None of them really stuck.”
You nod, trying to convey understanding despite you not knowing what to say. Right as you open your mouth, you’re slammed against the wall, hands gripping your arms. Your head thuds against the wood behind you, not enough to see stars, but enough that you know you’ll have a migraine soon.
Titus sneers above you, “What are you really doing here, huh? Tell me.” He’s so close, you can smell his cologne. Sage, woody, and warmed with spice. Why did your pulse pick up now?
“Tell me!”, he shook you at your lack of a response.
You hold his glare, “Alright. I’ll drop the pretenses.” Titus doesn’t seem like he wants a flattering lie right now and you don’t plan on giving one to him. “I’m here for a job. Yeah, I know your privileged ass has never known what its like to need to labor to have enough to survive, so let me make it painfully clear to you. I am here for work. To get money. Like everybody fucking else. You guys pay well and I want to live comfortably for once in my life and that is it. I do not give a single shit about whatever the hell you guys do or don’t do. I am here for the roof over my head, food in my stomach, and some cash in my pocket. That’s fucking all.” You shove him off of you, which only works because he is caught off-guard. You straighten your blazer as he stands there still slack-jawed.
Is he really that surprised? No way he doesn’t know how bad shit is out there.
“You’re really not here to infiltrate my family or something?”, Titus asks and you can see the dunce cap start to form around his head, “Couldn’t you get another job in like, I dunno, some start-up or whatever the hell pays this much.”
Oh. Oh, he really doesn’t know.
“No, Mr. Danforth.”, the title comes out more sour than you intended, “There are no entry-level jobs out there that pays 100K a year. I honestly thought the listing was a scam when I applied.”
Titus furrows his brow, “Can’t you go to college or something? Get a job with a better pay?”
“I did go to college.”, you tell him your degree, “and I was working part-time waitressing jobs.”
Titus looks real confused, so you decide to indulge yourself.
“Minimum wage is $15 an hour, by the way.”, you revel in his widened eyes, “Technically less since I was working for tips, too.”
“Well, isn’t that enough?”, he does the mental math in his head, “A shift with good tips is like, what? Around $300 bucks? That’s enough for shit.”
“Titus”, you sigh, “how much do you think rent costs? Fuck that, actually. Tell me how much you think groceries cost?”
He shrugs, “I dunno. $350 for the rent, $30 for groceries?”
You want to laugh, but you’re too irritated. “I paid $1,500 for my rent and about $45 on groceries if I ration enough to not starve.”
Titus looks at you like you’re stupid, “Then don’t get such a big apartment then.”
“I lived in a studio!”
“What’s that?”
You put your head in your hands and groan. Oh, to live such a life.
You take a deep inhale, “I digress. I needed a job and I didn’t want to live like that anymore. That’s all.”
Titus is scanning you up and down, probably for show at this point. “Alright.”, he says like you passed the crudest interrogation known to man. He starts to walk to his room, but changes his mind to give one last remark: “But, I got my eyes on you.”
“I’m sure you do.”, you mutter, completely over this attempt to seem threatening. Titus huffs and saunters into his room.
When the door shuts, you sigh out the last bit of tension in you. What the hell was even that, man?, you rub your eyes, drained from whatever that was. Your heart is still thumping against your chest, but the rush of adrenaline as long since subsided.
I wonder what cologne he uses.
You shove that thought way down deep and hone your attention into unpacking your suitcase. Your whole life can be tucked away into a duffel bag and one suitcase that cost more than the furniture you picked up from the road in your old apartment. You justified the purchase since you’re going to be traveling alongside Ursula now.
Your spirits lift at the thought. Finally, you can see the world - a luxury you could never afford on your own and now its part of your job. You plop into bed, cheeks hurting as you start to romanticize the thought of the first paycheck hitting your bank account. No more overdrafts, no more debts, no need for loans. Shopping trips without needing to check the price, takeouts replaced by world class chef cooked cuisine. You fall asleep dreaming of a life without financial stresses and burdens, head pressed against a silk pillow.
On the other side of the hall, Titus stared at the ceiling fuming over you. You frustrated him from the moment you met. Waltzing into this world, fitting in like you were meant to be here.
That voice., he fumes, That stupid voice she does is so… Titus thinks about how utterly lifeless and fake your voice was. Calling him Mr. Danforth, asking if he needed anything. The only thing worse is if it was sycophantic - but, it wasn’t. There was something underneath your perfectly professional persona. A twitch of your eyes that he caught when he was looking at you. A softening when you talked to Chef Martin.
Titus smiled as he remembered how he finally got you in the hallway, only moments ago. The fury lighting up your eyes, the exasperation breaking through the even tone you tried so hard to maintain. God, he swears he can feel your heart pound when he held you against the walls. What a rush, he muses.
A feeling blooms in the back of his mind, a want, no, a need for more. More of you.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
next part >
reblogs/comments/feedback are appreciated and lets me know to continue this series! thanks for reading :D
part of the moonlight sunrise series
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summary: takes place during the end of The Avengers and the beginning of Thor: The Dark World. y/n makes her plea to odin to keep loki on earth so that he can do..."community service".
Word count: 2.4k
[A/N: to clarify, (Y/N) is not related to anyone in this story. the Avengers all collectively have a soft spot for (Y/N), found family kind of deal. if you guys want some drabbles/oneshots on specific moments where individual Avengers bonded with (Y/N), let me know via asks, reblogs, or comments]
The sun felt rejuvenating on my skin, the wind tickled my ears, and the warmth of the sunshine felt like it was humming against my skin. You hum back in relief, enjoying the background noise of the bustling city and the crunch of asphalt under your shoes.
“Photosynthesizing?”, Nat’s voice jerks you out of your thoughts. You look around and find her peeking through the window of a car pulled up next to you. You scoff with a smile, “I’m not a plant, Nat.” She gives me a shrug, “If it acts like a duck and quacks like a duck…”. “Then I guess it’s a plant.”, you smirk.
“You need a ride?”, Nat offers. Weighing your options of walking all the way to Central Park and taking a ride in a vehicle with AC, you make the obvious choice.
Climbing into the passenger seat, you ask, “How do you think the council is going to take this?”. Nat pulls onto the main road, “According to Fury, they’ve been wanting to keep Loki and the Tesseract here under their jurisdiction, so they’ll be half way convinced on your plan. Apparently, one guy even said something about Loki needed to answer for his crimes, so this could be the opportunity to do so. This meeting is pretty much held to work out the logistics and convince them that Loki’s sentence should be - as you put it - community service.” Nat makes a turn, pulling into Terrace Drive, “Hopefully, they can see that as a punishment that fits the crime.” You pick at your palms, “I hope so too…”. Her hand takes yours and gives you a comforting squeeze, “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of things here. Just focus on getting the big guy upstairs to agree to us taking Loki.” You squeeze her hand back, strengthening your resolve, “I will. Thanks, Nat.”
You arrive at Bethesda Terrace where Clint, Steve and Bruce were already there with Loki and Thor. As you and Nat hop out of the car, Stark pulls up in his sleek, new toy with the top down. “Ah, thank god, I thought I was going to be the only one who was late.”, Stark sends a cheeky smile your way as he grabs a large, metal suitcase out from the backseat. He sets it down, opens the latch and takes out the encased Tesseract. “Took some time for the proper materials to contain this baby, but like always,”, Stark unceremoniously plops the Tesseract into Thor’s arms, “I pull through.”
Steve gives an affirming pat to Stark’s shoulder - with which the billionaire responds with a “Careful, it’s Armani.” - before pulling you in for a hug.
“Be safe out there, ok?”, Steve pulls back to let Bruce give a one-arm goodbye hug.
“I will.”, you say before teasing, “At least, I’ll try.”
Clint pulls you in and mutters, “Careful around that green guy. I don’t like him.” You roll your eyes, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my distance, Dad.”
You wave goodbye to everyone as you walk up to where Thor and Loki are standing. “I’m ready to go when you are. Thor nods, “Just grip tight on the handle and we’ll be on our way.”
“There’s only two handles.”
“Yeah, you’ll be sharing with Loki. It’s a big handle, it can fit both your hands.”, Thor grins and you shrug and look over at Loki. Seeing the mouthpiece strapped to his face, you fail to stifle your laugh, “Cat got your tongue?”. Loki gives you a glare, which only leads to more snickering. Thor holds out the mechanism and you grip the other end of the handle. Loki reaches out and manages to take hold, the chains around his wrists clinking against each other.
“So… how does this wo-”
The feeling was so intense, your eyes shut in fear. Your body feels like it was both weightless and being flung across space. It feels like your head was going to come clean off your neck. Scared that your limbs are going to be torn from your body, you slam your other hand onto the handle to hold on for dear life.
Soon, you can hear screaming and you force your eyes open, looking for the source. You look at Thor, silent and looking both worried and amused. Loki can’t make a sound.
So, who’s scre- Oh, it’s me. I’m screaming.
You clear your throat and straighten your posture. Looking down at your tight grip on the handle, you realize that your hand was actually clutching onto Loki’s arm. You jerk your hand away, your face getting hot, and mutter out a ‘sorry’. Loki just gives you a withering look while Thor lets out a laugh. “Sorry, (Y/N). Forgot to tell you to brace yourself.”, Thor wipes away small tears in his eyes, still chortling. “Yeah, a warning would’ve been real nice.”, you chide half-heartedly.
“Greetings.”, a voice boomed from behind you, taking you by surprise. “Heimdall!”, Thor greets warmly, “It’s good to see you again, my friend. How are the nine realms?” Heimdall’s face, though softened, stays stoic, “In chaos from the mischief Loki has brought.” Loki’s expression is unreadable, probably due to the gag taking up half of his face. Thor breaks the silence, “Where are my manners? Heimdall, this - “, he pulls me into his side, “is (Y/N)! Helped me out along with this team called, the Revengers” - “Avengers.” - “Avengers, back in Midgard!”
You smile and wave as Thor goes on to tell you more about the gatekeeper of Asgard. Speaking of Asgard, you finally turn around to see the city of gold with a glassy rainbow bridge ahead of you. In awe at the sight, you point at the mystical kingdom, “Is that an actual castle over there?”. Thor beams and brings along Loki, “Yes, and that’s where we will be meeting our father.” He starts to walk ahead of you and you hasten your pace to catch up. “Wait, so your father is like a King, right? Like, I don’t want to make a bad first impression. Is there a proper way I should greet him? Do I bow? Do I kneel?”, you blabber as your head swivels around trying to take in the sights. Holy shit, the water goes off into the edge of the horizon like a waterfall. This bridge is so high up, I need a railing before I slip off and die. Wait, is that a crack?
Thor nonchalantly says, “I think you get on one knee and bow your head, yes.” You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Well, how do I address him? And I don’t want to go in there, not knowing who he is. That seems rude, and I’m very versed in Norse mythology.”, you enter through the gates of the city and look around at the Asgardian people dressed in beautiful flowing garments, “I might be underdressed. Am I underdressed? Is it alright that I just came here in my battle uniform?” Thor looks like his mind has stalled trying to keep up with your nervous spiral. “Ok, you’re no help.”, you rip off Loki’s mouthpiece, “Can you give me some info on what to do here?”. Loki takes a minute to adjust his jaw and lick his chapped lips, “And why would I want to do that?”. You shrug, “Up to you, do you want to face Odin’s punishment or mine?”. Loki looks like he’s seriously deliberating his options before sighing, “You address the Allfather as Your Highness. Odin is the God of War and Wisdom and is the ruler of the Nine Realms. Thor can get you a change of clothes once you are in the palace, but for now, your uniform would suffice. Oh, and you must curtsy upon greeting to show respect…”
As the guards come to help escort Loki into the palace, Thor receives a summon to meet with Odin first before he meets with Loki. With a swing of his hammer, off Thor flies to the palace and Loki fills you in on proper Asgardian manners before you see the King.
You walk through the grand entrance. The sunlight filters in through the ornate, stained windows, giving the room a warm glow. You see who can only be Odin seated on a throne with what looks like golden horns arcing towards him.
The guards bow down and you give a nervous curtsy. Odin sends me a weird look and Loki fails to stifle a grin at his little prank. Switching to the kneeling bow Thor first told you about, you don't know whether to choke Loki out or to die of embarrassment.
Loki turns to a woman dressed in blue off to the side, “Hello, Mother. Have I made you proud?”, his voice self-effacing and sarcastic. “Loki.”, his mother gives him a stern look before whispering her plea, “Please don’t make this worse.” Loki couldn’t help but quip, “Define worse-”
“Enough!”, Odin’s command silences the room. “I wanted to speak to the prisoner alone, but it seems that we have a guest.”
Oh shit, he’s talking about me.
Not daring to rise from your position, you introduce yourself in a firm and projected voice, “Greetings, your Highness. My name is (Y/N) and I come from the planet you call Midgard. I come in peace and would like to speak to you regarding Loki’s crimes.”
“I see.”
Odin doesn’t seem to be completely opposed so far…
Loki laughs, “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about.” Odin glares down at him, “Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes? Wherever you go there is war, ruin and death. First with what you did here in Asgard, and now you have gone and spread suffering to her home.”, the All father gestures towards me.
“I went down to Midguard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent god. Just like you.”, Loki retorts. You clench your fist to rein in the anger bubbling under your skin. All that trouble… All those people dead… My city is in ruins because this fucker has daddy issues.
“We are not gods. We are born, we live, we die. Just as humans do.”, Odin spoke wisely but he couldn’t hide his contempt.
Loki sways his head side to side, “Give or take 5,000 years.” Odin looks down at Loki, “All this because Loki desires a throne.” Looks like it hit a nerve with Loki since he raises his voice, “It is my birthright!”
“YOU’RE BIRTHRIGHT”, Odin’s voice booms as he leans forward, “WAS TO DIE!”
The tension could be cut with a knife… but Loki is not one for silence and the two gods start to squabble.
Ok, this is going nowhere and my knees hurt. “Your Highness, if I may?”, you interrupt and rise from your position. Odin gestures for you to continue. “I agree with you that Loki does not seem to understand the gravity of his crimes. In his mission to rule over Midgard, he has tore my city apart. I intend, with your permission, to take him back to Midgard. There he will be tried as a war criminal, and will be punished by having to stay in New York and rebuild the city. Brick by brick, by every brick he has broken. I also will have him care for the injured and the dying, and make him face the people his follies has harmed.”, you burn your gaze into Loki, “If he is so insistent to rule my world, he should face the consequences of his ‘benevolence’.” you turn back to the Allfather and lower your head, “After his service is done, he will be turned over to you and will be under your jurisdiction.”
Odin considers the proposal, brows furrowed in thought. Loki’s mother approaches Odin and the two whisper fervently to each other. You can barely make out a “He’ll never learn unless he…” from her. After a moment of silence, Odin nods, “I’ll allow it. He can use a lesson in humility.” He turns to Loki with a grave look on his face, “Frigga is the only reason you are still alive and you will never see her again.” Out of all the things Odin has said, this seemed to sting Loki the most. His eyebrow twitched just a little, a ghost of a grimace flickered on his face. His mother looks back at him, her shoulders hunched as if a great burden has fallen onto her shoulders.
Odin turns back to you, “Loki is a slippery one. How do you plan on containing him?”
“Loki will be under constant surveillance and will be monitored and surrounded by our strongest team, the Avengers. We’ve beaten him this time, I’m sure we can do it again.”, you pause before making your request, “However, Loki’s ability for illusions did give us some trouble. We were hoping there would be some way for you to restrict his powers.” Odin thinks for a moment, “We can have a blacksmith make cuffs to restrict the flow of Loki’s seidr. I’ll have Frigga enchant it after, so Loki will be unable to remove it.”
You bow deeply in gratitude, “Thank you Allfather.”
“The making of the cuffs will take some time. Until it is done, you are free to stay in the palace as our guest. Loki, however, will spend his time in the dungeons.”
Loki seemed displeased at this to say the least. “And what of Thor? You’ll make that witless oaf king while I spend my days as a serf to these humans before rotting in chains?”, he spit out the word as if saying it left a bad taste on his tongue.
All this jealousy. No wonder he’s dressed in so much green.
Odin’s face hardens, “Thor must strive to undo the damage you have done. He will bring order to the nine realms and then, yes. He will be king.”
With that, Loki gets dragged off to the dungeons and Frigga comes down from the throne to take your arm into hers. “Allow me to escort you to the guest room.”, she smiles warmly. You bow your head, “Thank you, your highness.”
[loki x f!reader. part of the moonlight sunrise compilation. this is the enemies part of the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers. takes place during The Avengers (2012). canon divergence. this is basically the premise chapter. feedback is greatly appreciated!]
TW: some graphic descriptions of injuries, canon-typical violence
Word count: 1.3k
[edited to be in 2nd person pov. italics = y/n's thoughts]
The city crumbles all around you. You sprint through the falling ruble, grabbing whoever you can get to safety.
“Guys, what the fuck is going on over there?!”, you yell into comms.
“Sorry Doc, but Rudolf here just keeps setting off explosives.”, Stark chimes in.
You throw down a shield around a family before a block of cement could crush them. You usher in the stragglers in the street to the subways underground to take cover. Looking up, alien ships whizz through the air. Your eyes land on Cap on a cop car giving out instructions.
“...I need a perimeter as far back as 39th.”, Cap says before beating the shit out of the aliens that popped up behind him. You run over to him, catching the attention of the police, “Make sure the buildings are evacuated, too. Those things are airborne and they got bombs.” You turn to Cap, “You guys need me over there?” He shook his head, “We’ll be ok. Right now, I need you on the ground doing damage control.”
“Got it.”, you throw Cap a thumbs up before turning on my heel to follow the sounds of destruction. Note to self, I need Stark to build me some fancy hyper-mobility shoes or something because I cannot keep running around like this.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“He’s stable.”, you say to the EMT before moving on to another body, your hands emitting a warm glow. The next one was a kid - couldn't be more than 7 years old - his chest caved in and his mouth full of blood. Your heart gets stuck in your throat, but you try to shake off the feeling. You place your palms on his chest, and focus your energy into regenerating his rib cage. The kid sputters out a cough. Judging from the blood, his lungs may have been punctured. You take one of your hands and slide it under his back to start healing his lungs. Soon, you can feel his ribs get solid under your palm and his wheezing soon stops. You breathe a sigh of relief as wave of exhaustion hits you.
I can’t keep this up at this rate.
Breaking out of your daze, a voice comes through your earpiece. “Got Loki, gonna go out for shawarma, you want anything?” You stomach growls on cue, but as you look around at the wounded people on stretchers and makeshift beds on the ground, your feet stays firmly planted. “I dunno, Stark. Things aren’t look so good down here. I don’t think I should-”
“Go.”, the EMT spoke curtly without looking up from the arm she was dressing, “We got it from here. Thank you.” You nod back, “Thank you, too.”
Promising to come to the hospital to help later, you head over to the shawarma place.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Pushing through the doors of the Shawarma Palace, you're greeted with the sight of Nat, Clint, Banner, Stark, Thor, and Cap huddled around the table, eating their meal with a chained Loki sat in between Rogers and the Asgardian.
“(Y/N)! So nice of you to join us.”, Stark motions to an empty chair next to Nat but you instead make a beeline for the tied-up god. “Thanks for having me.”, you smile at Stark before pointing at Loki, “This is the guy right? He’s the one that opened the hell portal and blew up my city?” The others look at you weird as a couple nod their heads with a soft “Yeah?”.
“Ok, cool.”
You deck Loki in the jaw.
“Oooh, whatever happened to the Hippocratic oath, Doc?”, Stark winces. “I’m not an actual doctor, I am held to no such oath.”, you turn to the cook with a smile before making your order.
Loki, annoyed, whips his head to look at me, “Nice to meet you too, (Y/N).” You send him a death glare before sitting down next to Nat with your shawarma in hand. “What did I miss?”, you say before starting to eat.
“Nothing much. Stark flew into the hell hole, closed it, fell from the sky, we met up to catch this guy,” -Nat motions to Loki- “and now we’re here eating this… really good shawarma.” Tony has a smug look on his face at Nat’s approval. “Man, it sounds like you guys had a lot of fun.”, you manage in between bites. “How were things for you?”, Banner interjects. “Oh, you know the usual. Shielding people from falling rubble, running around evacuating people, spent a lot of time with really wounded people with sunken in chests and heads trying to bring them back to the land of the living. You know,” you shrug before reaching down for the last bite of shawarma, “Usual damage control.”
You're met with looks of sympathy and discomfort, and you never wanted to change the subject more. “So, this shawarma really hit the spot!”, you laugh, hoping the mood will change. “Yeah, you devoured your food so quickly, I’m surprised that you weren’t breathing it in!”, Thor chimes in heartily before turning to the cook, “Another! Another one of these shawarmas for the doctor lady.”
“Not a doctor.”, you quip while sending Thor a thankful smile.
Eating your second shawarma, you can feel yourself regaining some energy, but you still need to recharge in the sun for a bit before you start using your powers again. “So,” you look over at Loki, “what are we going to do with him?” Steve leans back and crosses his arms, “Well, Thor is planning on taking him back to Asgard, but S.H.I.E.L.D is trying to keep Loki and the tesseract under their jurisdiction.” You nod, “I think we should keep him here, better to use him to help clean up the mess he made. Call it community service.”
You turn to Thor, “What would he be doing in Asgard anyway?”. Thor shrugs, “Knowing our father, he’d probably have him locked up for a few hundred years for treason, but knowing our mother, Loki wouldn’t be punished too severely.”. “Exactly, my point!”, you start cleaning up the table, taking the others’ empty baskets and throwing them into the garbage, “What’s the use of him sitting in a cell, when we can use his magic or whatever to help rebuild New York?”
“That’s not how my magic works, darling.”, Loki interjects. “Then you’ll do it the old-fashioned way without magic.”, you retort. Loki puts his hands up with a ‘whatever you say’ look on his face. Steve, Bruce seem to be on my side, while the others seem unconvinced. “Wouldn’t it be dangerous to just let him run wild?”, Clint asks with a furrowed brow. “It wouldn’t be unsupervised. I’ll be able to watch him and organize what he needs to do, plus he has those-”, you motion to the chains and cuffs on Loki, “magic erasing thingies on him so he can’t use his magic to get away.” You turn to Thor, “Is there something in Asgard that are like those but less movement restrictive and he won’t be able to get out of?” Thor hums in thought, “No, but I know a blacksmith.” You light up and look at Clint, “See? We could secure him.” You can hear more approval for your idea.
“I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D will need much convincing on this.”, Nat pipes up, “I can help win them over on this plan.”
“And I can go to Asgard to see if I can get Odin’s approval to keep Loki on Earth-”, you pause, “if it’s ok with Thor.” Thor gives me a thumbs up as he downs his glass.
[loki x f!reader. part of the moonlight sunrise compilation. this is the enemies part of the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers. takes place during The Avengers (2012). canon divergence. this is basically the premise chapter. feedback is greatly appreciated!]
TW: some graphic descriptions of injuries, canon-typical violence
Word count: 1.3k
My city crumbles all around me. I sprint through the falling ruble, grabbing whoever I can to safety.
“Guys, what the fuck is going on over there?!”, I yell into comms.
“Sorry Doc, but Rudolf here just keeps setting off explosives.”, Stark chimes in.
I threw down a shield around a family before a block of cement could crush them. I usher in the stragglers in the street to the subways underground to take cover. Looking up, alien ships whizz through the air. My eyes land on Cap on a cop car giving out instructions.
“...I need a perimeter as far back as 39th.”, Cap says before beating the shit out of the aliens that popped up behind him. I run over to him, catching the attention of the police, “Make sure the buildings are evacuated, too. Those things are airborne and they got bombs.” I turn to Cap, “You guys need me over there?” He shook his head, “We’ll be ok. Right now, I need you on the ground doing damage control.”
“Got it.”, I throw Cap a thumbs up before turning on my heel to follow the sounds of destruction. Note to self, I need Stark to build me some fancy hyper-mobility shoes or something because I cannot keep running around like this.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“He’s stable.”, I say to the EMT before moving on to another body, my hands emitting a warm glow. The next one was a kid - couldn't be more than 7 years old - his chest caved in and his mouth full of blood. My heart gets stuck in my throat, but I try to shake off the feeling. I place my palms on his chest, and focus my energy into regenerating his rib cage. The kid sputters out a cough. Judging from the blood, his lungs may have been punctured. I take one of my hands to slide under his back to start healing his lungs. Soon, I can feel his ribs get solid under my palm and his wheezing soon stops. I breathe a sigh of relief as wave of exhaustion hits me.
I can’t keep this up at this rate.
Breaking me out of my daze, a voice comes through my earpiece. “Got Loki, gonna go out for shawarma, you want anything?” My stomach growls on cue, but as I look around at the wounded people on stretchers and makeshift beds on the ground, my feet stays firmly planted. “I dunno, Stark. Things aren’t look so good down here. I don’t think I should-”
“Go.”, the EMT spoke curtly without looking up from the arm she was dressing, “We got it from here. Thank you.” I nod, “Thank you, too.”
Promising to come to the hospital to help later, I head over to the shawarma place.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Pushing through the doors of the Shawarma Palace, I’m greeted with the sight of Nat, Clint, Banner, Stark, Thor, and Cap huddled around the table, eating their meal with a chained Loki sat in between Rogers and the Asgardian.
“(Y/N)! So nice of you to join us.”, Stark motions to an empty chair next to Nat but I instead make a beeline for the tied-up god. “Thanks for having me.”, I smiled at Stark before pointing at Loki, “This is the guy right? He’s the one that opened the hell portal and blew up my city?” The others look at me weird as a couple nod their heads with a soft “Yeah?”
“Ok, cool.”
I deck Loki in the jaw.
“Oooh, whatever happened to the Hippocratic oath, Doc?”, Stark winces. “I’m not an actual doctor, I am held to no such oath.”, I turn to the cook with a smile before making my order.
Loki, annoyed, whips his head to look at me, “Nice to meet you too, (Y/N).” I send him a death glare before sitting down next to Nat with my shawarma in hand. “What did I miss?”, I said before starting to eat.
“Nothing much. Stark flew into the hell hole, closed it, fell from the sky, we met up to catch this guy,” -Nat motions to Loki- “and now we’re here eating this… really good shawarma.” Tony has a smug look on his face at Nat’s approval. “Man, it sounds like you guys had a lot of fun.”, I manage in between bites. “How were things for you?”, Banner interjects. “Oh, you know the usual. Shielding people from falling rubble, running around evacuating people, spent a lot of time with really wounded people with sunken in chests and heads trying to bring them back to the land of the living. You know,” I shrug before reaching down for the last bite of shawarma, “Usual damage control.”
I’m met with looks of sympathy and discomfort, and I never wanted to change the subject more. “So, this shawarma really hit the spot!”, I laugh, hoping the mood will change. “Yeah, you devoured your food so quickly, I’m surprised that you weren’t breathing it in!”, Thor chimes in heartily before turning to the cook, “Another! Another one of these shawarmas for the doctor lady.”
“Not a doctor.”, I quipped while sending Thor a thankful smile.
Eating my second shawarma, I can feel myself regaining some energy, but I still need to recharge in the sun for a bit before I start using my powers again. “So,” I look over at Loki, “what are we going to do with him?” Steve leans back and crosses his arms, “Well, Thor is planning on taking him back to Asgard, but S.H.I.E.L.D is trying to keep Loki and the tesseract under their jurisdiction.” I nod, “I think we should keep him here, better to use him to help clean up the mess he made. Call it community service.”
I turn to Thor, “What would he be doing in Asgard anyway?”. Thor shrugs, “Knowing our father, he’d probably have him locked up for a few hundred years for treason, but knowing our mother, Loki wouldn’t be punished too severely.”. “Exactly, my point!”, I start cleaning up the table, taking the others’ empty baskets and throwing them into the garbage, “What’s the use of him sitting in a cell, when we can use his magic or whatever to help rebuild New York?”
“That’s not how my magic works, darling.”, Loki interjects. “Then you’ll do it the old-fashioned way without magic.”, I retort. Loki puts his hands up with a ‘whatever you say’ look on his face. Steve, Bruce seem to be on my side, while the others seem unconvinced. “Wouldn’t it be dangerous to just let him run wild?”, Clint asks with a furrowed brow. “It wouldn’t be unsupervised. I’ll be able to watch him and organize what he needs to do, plus he has those-”, I motion to the chains and cuffs on Loki, “magic erasing thingies on him so he can’t use his magic to get away.” I turn to Thor, “Is there something in Asgard that are like those but less movement restrictive and he won’t be able to get out of?” Thor hums in thought, “No, but I know a blacksmith.” I light up and look at Clint, “See? We could secure him.” I can hear more approval for my idea.
“I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D will need much convincing on this.”, Nat pipes up, “I can help win them over on this plan.”
“And I can go to Asgard to see if I can get Odin’s approval to keep Loki on Earth-”, I pause, “if it’s ok with Thor.” Thor gives me a thumbs up as he downs his glass.
[loki x f!reader. part of the moonlight sunrise compilation. this is the enemies part of the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers. takes place during The Avengers (2012). canon divergence. this is basically the premise chapter. feedback is greatly appreciated!]
TW: some graphic descriptions of injuries, canon-typical violence
Word count: 1.3k
My city crumbles all around me. I sprint through the falling ruble, grabbing whoever I can to safety.
“Guys, what the fuck is going on over there?!”, I yell into comms.
“Sorry Doc, but Rudolf here just keeps setting off explosives.”, Stark chimes in.
I threw down a shield around a family before a block of cement could crush them. I usher in the stragglers in the street to the subways underground to take cover. Looking up, alien ships whizz through the air. My eyes land on Cap on a cop car giving out instructions.
“...I need a perimeter as far back as 39th.”, Cap says before beating the shit out of the aliens that popped up behind him. I run over to him, catching the attention of the police, “Make sure the buildings are evacuated, too. Those things are airborne and they got bombs.” I turn to Cap, “You guys need me over there?” He shook his head, “We’ll be ok. Right now, I need you on the ground doing damage control.”
“Got it.”, I throw Cap a thumbs up before turning on my heel to follow the sounds of destruction. Note to self, I need Stark to build me some fancy hyper-mobility shoes or something because I cannot keep running around like this.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“He’s stable.”, I say to the EMT before moving on to another body, my hands emitting a warm glow. The next one was a kid - couldn't be more than 7 years old - his chest caved in and his mouth full of blood. My heart gets stuck in my throat, but I try to shake off the feeling. I place my palms on his chest, and focus my energy into regenerating his rib cage. The kid sputters out a cough. Judging from the blood, his lungs may have been punctured. I take one of my hands to slide under his back to start healing his lungs. Soon, I can feel his ribs get solid under my palm and his wheezing soon stops. I breathe a sigh of relief as wave of exhaustion hits me.
I can’t keep this up at this rate.
Breaking me out of my daze, a voice comes through my earpiece. “Got Loki, gonna go out for shawarma, you want anything?” My stomach growls on cue, but as I look around at the wounded people on stretchers and makeshift beds on the ground, my feet stays firmly planted. “I dunno, Stark. Things aren’t look so good down here. I don’t think I should-”
“Go.”, the EMT spoke curtly without looking up from the arm she was dressing, “We got it from here. Thank you.” I nod, “Thank you, too.”
Promising to come to the hospital to help later, I head over to the shawarma place.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Pushing through the doors of the Shawarma Palace, I’m greeted with the sight of Nat, Clint, Banner, Stark, Thor, and Cap huddled around the table, eating their meal with a chained Loki sat in between Rogers and the Asgardian.
“(Y/N)! So nice of you to join us.”, Stark motions to an empty chair next to Nat but I instead make a beeline for the tied-up god. “Thanks for having me.”, I smiled at Stark before pointing at Loki, “This is the guy right? He’s the one that opened the hell portal and blew up my city?” The others look at me weird as a couple nod their heads with a soft “Yeah?”
“Ok, cool.”
I deck Loki in the jaw.
“Oooh, whatever happened to the Hippocratic oath, Doc?”, Stark winces. “I’m not an actual doctor, I am held to no such oath.”, I turn to the cook with a smile before making my order.
Loki, annoyed, whips his head to look at me, “Nice to meet you too, (Y/N).” I send him a death glare before sitting down next to Nat with my shawarma in hand. “What did I miss?”, I said before starting to eat.
“Nothing much. Stark flew into the hell hole, closed it, fell from the sky, we met up to catch this guy,” -Nat motions to Loki- “and now we’re here eating this… really good shawarma.” Tony has a smug look on his face at Nat’s approval. “Man, it sounds like you guys had a lot of fun.”, I manage in between bites. “How were things for you?”, Banner interjects. “Oh, you know the usual. Shielding people from falling rubble, running around evacuating people, spent a lot of time with really wounded people with sunken in chests and heads trying to bring them back to the land of the living. You know,” I shrug before reaching down for the last bite of shawarma, “Usual damage control.”
I’m met with looks of sympathy and discomfort, and I never wanted to change the subject more. “So, this shawarma really hit the spot!”, I laugh, hoping the mood will change. “Yeah, you devoured your food so quickly, I’m surprised that you weren’t breathing it in!”, Thor chimes in heartily before turning to the cook, “Another! Another one of these shawarmas for the doctor lady.”
“Not a doctor.”, I quipped while sending Thor a thankful smile.
Eating my second shawarma, I can feel myself regaining some energy, but I still need to recharge in the sun for a bit before I start using my powers again. “So,” I look over at Loki, “what are we going to do with him?” Steve leans back and crosses his arms, “Well, Thor is planning on taking him back to Asgard, but S.H.I.E.L.D is trying to keep Loki and the tesseract under their jurisdiction.” I nod, “I think we should keep him here, better to use him to help clean up the mess he made. Call it community service.”
I turn to Thor, “What would he be doing in Asgard anyway?”. Thor shrugs, “Knowing our father, he’d probably have him locked up for a few hundred years for treason, but knowing our mother, Loki wouldn’t be punished too severely.”. “Exactly, my point!”, I start cleaning up the table, taking the others’ empty baskets and throwing them into the garbage, “What’s the use of him sitting in a cell, when we can use his magic or whatever to help rebuild New York?”
“That’s not how my magic works, darling.”, Loki interjects. “Then you’ll do it the old-fashioned way without magic.”, I retort. Loki puts his hands up with a ‘whatever you say’ look on his face. Steve, Bruce seem to be on my side, while the others seem unconvinced. “Wouldn’t it be dangerous to just let him run wild?”, Clint asks with a furrowed brow. “It wouldn’t be unsupervised. I’ll be able to watch him and organize what he needs to do, plus he has those-”, I motion to the chains and cuffs on Loki, “magic erasing thingies on him so he can’t use his magic to get away.” I turn to Thor, “Is there something in Asgard that are like those but less movement restrictive and he won’t be able to get out of?” Thor hums in thought, “No, but I know a blacksmith.” I light up and look at Clint, “See? We could secure him.” I can hear more approval for my idea.
“I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D will need much convincing on this.”, Nat pipes up, “I can help win them over on this plan.”
“And I can go to Asgard to see if I can get Odin’s approval to keep Loki on Earth-”, I pause, “if it’s ok with Thor.” Thor gives me a thumbs up as he downs his glass.
You may have a point with Odin being hesitant regarding that. I’m rewatching The Dark World and taking notes so that I can get Odin’s characterization right for the next chapter. Thank you for the feedback!
[loki x f!reader. part of the moonlight sunrise compilation. this is the enemies part of the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers. takes place during The Avengers (2012). canon divergence. this is basically the premise chapter. feedback is greatly appreciated!]
next >
TW: some graphic descriptions of injuries, canon-typical violence
Word count: 1.3k
[edited to be in 2nd person pov. italics = y/n's thoughts]
The city crumbles all around you. You sprint through the falling ruble, grabbing whoever you can get to safety.
“Guys, what the fuck is going on over there?!”, you yell into comms.
“Sorry Doc, but Rudolf here just keeps setting off explosives.”, Stark chimes in.
You throw down a shield around a family before a block of cement could crush them. You usher in the stragglers in the street to the subways underground to take cover. Looking up, alien ships whizz through the air. Your eyes land on Cap on a cop car giving out instructions.
“...I need a perimeter as far back as 39th.”, Cap says before beating the shit out of the aliens that popped up behind him. You run over to him, catching the attention of the police, “Make sure the buildings are evacuated, too. Those things are airborne and they got bombs.” You turn to Cap, “You guys need me over there?” He shook his head, “We’ll be ok. Right now, I need you on the ground doing damage control.”
“Got it.”, you throw Cap a thumbs up before turning on my heel to follow the sounds of destruction. Note to self, I need Stark to build me some fancy hyper-mobility shoes or something because I cannot keep running around like this.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“He’s stable.”, you say to the EMT before moving on to another body, your hands emitting a warm glow. The next one was a kid - couldn't be more than 7 years old - his chest caved in and his mouth full of blood. Your heart gets stuck in your throat, but you try to shake off the feeling. You place your palms on his chest, and focus your energy into regenerating his rib cage. The kid sputters out a cough. Judging from the blood, his lungs may have been punctured. You take one of your hands and slide it under his back to start healing his lungs. Soon, you can feel his ribs get solid under your palm and his wheezing soon stops. You breathe a sigh of relief as wave of exhaustion hits you.
I can’t keep this up at this rate.
Breaking out of your daze, a voice comes through your earpiece. “Got Loki, gonna go out for shawarma, you want anything?” You stomach growls on cue, but as you look around at the wounded people on stretchers and makeshift beds on the ground, your feet stays firmly planted. “I dunno, Stark. Things aren’t look so good down here. I don’t think I should-”
“Go.”, the EMT spoke curtly without looking up from the arm she was dressing, “We got it from here. Thank you.” You nod back, “Thank you, too.”
Promising to come to the hospital to help later, you head over to the shawarma place.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Pushing through the doors of the Shawarma Palace, you're greeted with the sight of Nat, Clint, Banner, Stark, Thor, and Cap huddled around the table, eating their meal with a chained Loki sat in between Rogers and the Asgardian.
“(Y/N)! So nice of you to join us.”, Stark motions to an empty chair next to Nat but you instead make a beeline for the tied-up god. “Thanks for having me.”, you smile at Stark before pointing at Loki, “This is the guy right? He’s the one that opened the hell portal and blew up my city?” The others look at you weird as a couple nod their heads with a soft “Yeah?”.
“Ok, cool.”
You deck Loki in the jaw.
“Oooh, whatever happened to the Hippocratic oath, Doc?”, Stark winces. “I’m not an actual doctor, I am held to no such oath.”, you turn to the cook with a smile before making your order.
Loki, annoyed, whips his head to look at me, “Nice to meet you too, (Y/N).” You send him a death glare before sitting down next to Nat with your shawarma in hand. “What did I miss?”, you say before starting to eat.
“Nothing much. Stark flew into the hell hole, closed it, fell from the sky, we met up to catch this guy,” -Nat motions to Loki- “and now we’re here eating this… really good shawarma.” Tony has a smug look on his face at Nat’s approval. “Man, it sounds like you guys had a lot of fun.”, you manage in between bites. “How were things for you?”, Banner interjects. “Oh, you know the usual. Shielding people from falling rubble, running around evacuating people, spent a lot of time with really wounded people with sunken in chests and heads trying to bring them back to the land of the living. You know,” you shrug before reaching down for the last bite of shawarma, “Usual damage control.”
You're met with looks of sympathy and discomfort, and you never wanted to change the subject more. “So, this shawarma really hit the spot!”, you laugh, hoping the mood will change. “Yeah, you devoured your food so quickly, I’m surprised that you weren’t breathing it in!”, Thor chimes in heartily before turning to the cook, “Another! Another one of these shawarmas for the doctor lady.”
“Not a doctor.”, you quip while sending Thor a thankful smile.
Eating your second shawarma, you can feel yourself regaining some energy, but you still need to recharge in the sun for a bit before you start using your powers again. “So,” you look over at Loki, “what are we going to do with him?” Steve leans back and crosses his arms, “Well, Thor is planning on taking him back to Asgard, but S.H.I.E.L.D is trying to keep Loki and the tesseract under their jurisdiction.” You nod, “I think we should keep him here, better to use him to help clean up the mess he made. Call it community service.”
You turn to Thor, “What would he be doing in Asgard anyway?”. Thor shrugs, “Knowing our father, he’d probably have him locked up for a few hundred years for treason, but knowing our mother, Loki wouldn’t be punished too severely.”. “Exactly, my point!”, you start cleaning up the table, taking the others’ empty baskets and throwing them into the garbage, “What’s the use of him sitting in a cell, when we can use his magic or whatever to help rebuild New York?”
“That’s not how my magic works, darling.”, Loki interjects. “Then you’ll do it the old-fashioned way without magic.”, you retort. Loki puts his hands up with a ‘whatever you say’ look on his face. Steve, Bruce seem to be on my side, while the others seem unconvinced. “Wouldn’t it be dangerous to just let him run wild?”, Clint asks with a furrowed brow. “It wouldn’t be unsupervised. I’ll be able to watch him and organize what he needs to do, plus he has those-”, you motion to the chains and cuffs on Loki, “magic erasing thingies on him so he can’t use his magic to get away.” You turn to Thor, “Is there something in Asgard that are like those but less movement restrictive and he won’t be able to get out of?” Thor hums in thought, “No, but I know a blacksmith.” You light up and look at Clint, “See? We could secure him.” You can hear more approval for your idea.
“I don’t think S.H.I.E.L.D will need much convincing on this.”, Nat pipes up, “I can help win them over on this plan.”
“And I can go to Asgard to see if I can get Odin’s approval to keep Loki on Earth-”, you pause, “if it’s ok with Thor.” Thor gives me a thumbs up as he downs his glass.