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shreddedparchment · 3 years

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Perennial Pt.05

03/07/2022

Just a Friend

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2,934

Warnings: angst, jealousy, pining, talks of taking shits haha

Featured Flower: Gardenia

A/N: It’s been a minute. I really needed a break from being creative. I’ve been exhausted and I wasn’t getting as much joy from writing for various reasons. I’m back, with the intent of writing without expectation so, for those that read this, I hope y’all enjoy it! I really enjoy this story and I’m gonna try not to let the notes be something I look at anymore. Writing for readers can be stressful after a while so I’m gonna dive back down to my roots and write these stories strictly for myself. I hope y’all like it! Have fun! xoxo

Please don’t steal my fics or repost or translate. Don’t be a dick.

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“Well?” you press, arms rising to cross your chest again as you square your shoulders.

Your body even angles itself as if waiting to decide whether to run as part of your fight or flight instinct.

Bucky just stands there, brow drawn down over his steel blue eyes, icy in response to your tone you assume, and says nothing.

“I thought you said you wanted to talk?” you drop your arms and hold your hands out at your sides, palms forward, waiting a moment before letting them fall and slap against the side of your legs.

The anger in Bucky’s face grows into irritation at your tone. The prickly demeanor that you can’t hide right now because you’re so annoyed and bitter, he clearly doesn’t like it.

“I’m sorry, did I do something to piss you off?” he asks, his gloved index finger pointing at his chest as he takes a step forward with his left foot then leans all of his weight back on his right.

You smile, despite yourself, but it isn’t pretty. You don’t think…

No, this smile is full of sharp bite and sarcastic amusement.

“Did you do something?” you chuckle, hands brought up to your hips as you bite on your bottom lip and twirl your body halfway to the left and then back to the right just to have somewhere to expend the raging energy building up in your chest. “Did you DO something?”

The laugh, caustic as it is, disappears completely and is replaced by simple hurt anger.

“No, Bucky, see…that’s the problem. You did nothing. Nothing.”

You can’t seem to stop chewing on your lip and it hurts but you don’t notice.

“It’s been four months since you disappeared and you did nothing. No text, no phone call, no visit to tell me that hey, you were done with me and my shop and whatever friendship we had but let’s face it, it couldn’t have been a very meaningful or real or important friendship if it was so easily forgotten, right?

“Like, I didn’t become completely dependant on you for those few days out of the week, so it was easy to just move on. I didn’t spend night after night lugging my buckets in alone or throwing my garbage, alone. No, it would have been silly for me to expect to see you again after…after everything.

“So, yeah, you didn’t do something to piss me off, Bucky. You did nothing. And I hired a new part timer who I’m pretty sure has special abilities that she’s a little nervous about telling me about so I’m trying to be as kind to her as possible but because of her specialness, I don’t have to worry about bringing in heavy buckets or lifting heavy trash.

“Kamala handles all of that really well on her own. And…" You reach up to scratch at your hairline, averting your eyes down to the floor as if trying to think of what else you might add.

But then you realize what you need to say.

"...And I don't need you anymore." You hold out your arms again, a universal shift for outraged confusion. "So, I don't know exactly why you bothered following me back here when you've been going several months perfectly fine without worrying about me, or the shop. Not that I expected you to, or anything like that.

"I just….I thought we were friends and I was wrong. My bad. You can go now. I'm sure you've got other places to be and people you'd rather see."

Your anger collapses and while you still manage to keep an annoyed front for him, the ache in your chest is getting unbearable.

Moving back towards your counter, you grab your phone and watch through the corner of your eye as Bucky turns and moves towards the door.

Unwilling to watch him leave, you hurry back around the counter and move towards the back room where food that you know you won't be able to eat is waiting.

Tearing into your naan, you rip it into several pieces, waiting and straining to hear the ding of the bell and the click of the door to indicate that Bucky's gone.

Instead the soft thuds of his boots edge into the doorway of your back room and stop.

You look at him, still shredding your bread, and he looks so ashamed your hands stop moving.

No, he doesn’t look ashamed. That’s not right. He looks sorry. It’s kind of like shame but not exactly. There’s a tilt to the corners of his lips, a sorrow in his blue eyes. A question? But what question?

“Look, uh…”

“I don’t need an explanation, Bucky. I don’t need to hear about how you’ve been busy with Avenger work or how you’ve spent every waking moment with your girlfriend. I don’t want to hear it. Just…”

“I’m sorry.” He says it simply. Those two stupid little words and the damn look on his face, and the idiotic shift of his big ass feet in those heavy looking boots settle onto your chest and draw from you the longest and deepest sigh you’ve ever breathed in your life.

The air coming out of your lungs wavers and you grimace as you turn back to your food which you’re now absolutely positive you won’t eat with this hole growing in your stomach.

“I didn’t hear from you for months,” you shake your head. “And I feel so stupid for even feeling like I’m entitled to some kind of explanation or apology for you not being here. You never said you’d be here forever but you made it seem like…”

It’s not fair that you feel this way. Not to you. Not to him.

This sucks.

“Look, just…just go away for today and give me some time to cool off. Seeing you like that out of nowhere caught me off guard and I’m too upset to think about this rationally. Just give me a few days.”

“That’s fair,” Bucky says, but you don’t look at him. You can’t.

He turns to leave and your heart gives a terrifying jolt as he turns his back on you.

You spring from your seat, turning to face him as you grip the edge of the table with shaky hands.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” he asks a little too eagerly. He moves into the room, stopping to stand only a few feet from you, eyebrows high on his forehead as he waits with endless curiosity.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything!” he says quickly, taking a step closer.

“Don’t come back if you’re just going to disappear again. It’s better if you just stay away. I can’t take the disappointment twice. Once was enough,” you plead.

Your words pull at the corners of his lips again, his eyebrows rushing down to pucker between his eyes as he contemplates the seriousness of your words.

“I’ll see ya,” he says, and he leaves, the ding of the bell and the click of your shop door leaving you to wonder whether he really means he’ll see you later or whether it’s a friendly goodbye for good.

~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t see Bucky for a week.

You don’t expect to, even though part of you is hopeful. Just as hopeful as you have been to hear from your business partner.

It’s been months since he should have been back. Way before you expected Bucky to talk to you again and yet, all of your calls go unanswered. The hotel numbers are incorrect. And his itinerary is also completely bogus.

You spend some time every week at the bank, double checking the accounts to make sure he hasn’t run off with any money but that’s no like Greg to do.

He’s the last of your kin and he’d never hurt you like that.

Finally at the end of your rope, you call the cops and they also can’t help you. So this week is a bust for both Greg and Bucky.

He doesn’t come by to help with your buckets, which is fine because Kamala got territorial when you’d told her that Bucky used to help you. Well, after she stopped gushing about an Avenger being your friend.

She looked so ecstatic about it that you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’re not sure you ever meant anything to Bucky other than a way to pass the time between missions and dates.

On day five after your encounter with the former Winter Soldier, just as you’re locking the door to your shop and Kamala is sprinting off to the right sans jacket since spring has officially arrived, your pocket vibrates.

“Bye! See you tomorrow!” Kamala shouts back at you.

“We’re clooosed,” you sing, reminding her with amusement in your voice.

“Oh, right. See you the day after.” She shouts.

You chuckle, reach into your pocket and pull out your phone as you simultaneously reach up and try to catch the nylon strap you’d attached to your metal security shutter.

You’re only half paying attention to the strap and your eyes are instead focused on your phone. You unlock it and stop moving, hand in the air, as the preview message shows Bucky.

Heart seizing for a moment, you try to breath slowly, struggling to catch it as your heart clenches and your stomach rolls.

Why does this make you feel physically sick?

You tap on the screen and drop your arm, holding the phone closer with both hands as you stare at the short simple message.

Bucky: You still mad?

The more you read it the angrier you want to get. Instead you find yourself relishing in the fact that Bucky’s just sent you a text for the first time in ages. Why does that matter so much?

You start to type several times, but delete each message when it gets angry or sad or annoyed.

After five minutes of trying to come up with the perfect message, you send him a straight to the point, No.

Stupidly, idiotically, yet uncontrollably you stand there waiting for his response.

You’re staring so intently at your phone that you’re startled into a jump and gasp as your metal shutter comes crashing down onto the pavement, rattling angrily at the force with which it’s been pulled.

"Jesus," you cry quietly, hand and phone held tight to your chest. "Not so hard, you'll break it."

Even though your words are chastising, you know very well that Bucky won't take it as a reprimand. Not to mention you're too shocked to sound angry.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see if you needed help but you're right, the kid takes care of it all pretty easy. What was her name? Kala?" Bucky reaches into your other hand and takes the small ring of keys from you and stoops down to lock the shutter into place.

“Kamala,” you mumble, watching him with your heart suddenly fluttering like mad.

It’s embarrassing and your cheeks and ears burn suddenly, your eyes roving over his dark jean jacket and lighter bleached pants.

His boots are the same as before. Black heavy things that you grew used to stomping around your shop.

The shine of his metal wrist catches your eye as it peeks out from underneath his jacket sleeve and the black glove he’s always wearing. You’ve never seen his arm completely before and your heart aches because you know that his girlfriend must have.

Of course she has. They’ve been together for months and months.

“Why are you sighing?” he asks, standing up straight and warming your keys in his normal hand.

“Huh?” you ask, confused.

“You’ve sighed like three times in the last minute. You okay?”

“Oh,” shit. “I’m just tired. It was a busy day. It’s National Women’s History month and lots of men were coming in for flowers for their secretaries and assistants and moms and stuff.”

“Hm,” he doesn’t sound convinced. “Nah, I don’t buy it, kid. There’s more to it than that. What’s really eating at you?”

You don’t really feel like talking about your missing partner. In fact, you want to focus on anything else.

You’ve had to put your entire expansion plans on hold. It’s depressing as well as worrying.

“Why are you sneaking up behind me? I have pepper spray in my purse, you know. I could have sprayed you.”

Trying to muster some irritation, you turn and start to move down the street towards your place. It isn’t far so it’s not like this’ll be much of a walk but despite your rational thoughts about how Bucky is taken and you should be angry at him still, you’re glad to have a few minutes to walk with him.

He huffs a small laugh, just air escaping through his full pink lips. He licks them and you turn away and adjust your purse on your shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I was watching you and Kamala talk then I texted to see if you were still angry or not, but you aren’t so…I just wanted to help.”

You roll your eyes, irritated by that reasoning more than you should be. Offended even.

“I don’t need your help, Bucky.”

Your feet move faster, now suddenly eager to end this walk as quickly as possible.

Sturdy metal closes around your arm and then after a moment he pulls you towards the inside of the sidewalk as a car passes by honking angrily at someone jaywalking.

He stops you though, and that confused furrow of his brow from the other day comes back.

“What? What did I say? Why are you angry?” he begs. Literally, he sounds so pleading to know what it might be that he’s done because he seriously has no idea.

“I’m not some charity case, Bucky. I have an employee to help me in the shop. I don’t need a helper, okay? I don’t need you to save me.”

You let him hold your arm longer than he needs to. He’s not pulling away and on some level, you like that.

“I’m not trying to-that’s not what I’m doing,” he argues.

“But that’s what it feels like!” you shout, louder than you need to.

Frustration bubbling over, you look around as people passing look at the two of you with concern.

Embarrassed, you pull your arm from his grip and adjust your bag again.

“Okay, I’m sorry, alright? I’ll stop helping you at the shop. You don’t need to yell.” He looks around, concerned about the eyes you’re both drawing.

He is an Avenger. You suppose he’s worried about what people might think he’s doing and why some random chick is yelling at him.

“Why are you here, Bucky?” you ask again, this time your frustration boiling over into exasperation in your voice.

Bucky steps closer, closing the space to only a few inches because of the people still stealing glances.

“I missed you, okay? I-I’m sorry that I never came by or called or reached out in any way. I was busy. Really. And I thought about calling and texting so many times but something always came up. I know that sounds really shitty or like I’m making some kind of excuse, but seriously I-I wanted to call you.”

Looking into his eyes as he talks makes you want to cry. There’s so much there, so much hurt and other strong feelings that you really need to get over.

“I know you were busy, Bucky. I saw you on the news a lot.” You explain and start walking again. Bucky is quick to follow. “I assume you took like a shit at some point, right? Couldn’t you have just shot me a hi then?”

Bucky laughs again, shaking his head as he watches you then nods.

“I guess you’re not wrong.”

“I can’t explain to you why I’m as angry and hurt as I am, Bucky. It just is what it is. I wish I didn’t care. Then maybe I could go months and months without seeing or hearing from you and not give a shit, but I do care and I was…am angry. I’m just…gonna need some time. I can’t just flip that whole friend switch back on as if none of this happened. For all I knew the other day when you told me you’d see me later, you could have meant later for real, or maybe it was like a final goodbye?”

He’s got you fumbling your thoughts and struggling with your emotions so much that you’re already more tired being with him for these few minutes than you were actually working a full day.

“I know I fucked up,” Bucky says. “But you really are a friend I care about. You cheered me on when I didn’t think I could jump back into dating and helped me find my footing. That’s something that I can never repay. But I’ll start by promising you that I won’t just disappear like that again, okay?”

You watch him skeptically, eyes narrowed to slits as you wonder at the amount of disasters he must come into contact with as an Avenger that might make him break those words.

“Even if something happens on a global scale,” he says, guessing your thoughts correctly. “When I go take a shit, I’ll shoot you a text, okay?”

There’s a slight slant to his lips and his words echo in your head a few times. The seriousness with which he makes his promise breaks you and you shut your eyes as you’re overcome and laugh.

Just one really good laugh. A little because it’s outrageous, but also, the butterflies in your stomach make you feel giddy.

“Deal?” Bucky asks, dipping his head to meet your eyes.

He’s smiling when you look at him and after a slow nod, you shake your head at the ridiculousness of this whole situation and then push him away playfully as you turn away.

“Deal. Dumbass.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #flowershop au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #bucky x florist!reader #perennial pt05 #perennial

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

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He Says He Loves Me Pt.05

Unwanted Attentions

01/12/2022

Pairing: Loki x Reader Word Count: 5,920

Warnings: language, angst, jealousy, implied infidelity, charming Loki, SEXY HEIMDALL

A/N: I’m sorry for the long wait! I’ll try to be a little faster with the chapter updates but I am also working on my original novel as well, so there’s that. Either way, thanks for your patience! Hope you enjoy the chapter and if you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Please DO NOT repost or translate my stories to any other blogs or websites!!!

NO taglist for this story!

Several guests were invited to stay at the Palace due to the immense storm that ensued shortly after your departure from the ball.

While most had decided that with the absence of the guest of honor the ball most certainly was over, others stayed among the stragglers to finish conversations or eat and drink a bit more.

As promised, the day after your hasty and embarrassed exit, you’re left to your own devices.

Anna brings your tea in the morning, keeps your fires going, and makes sure that your meals are served on time.

Several times throughout the day you’re tempted to peek out into the hallway at the sounds of several feet moving about and the voices to accompany them that sound so very unfamiliar.

You keep listening for Loki’s voice and grow increasingly angry at yourself for expecting or even wanting to hear it.

Amongst the rabble that passes your doors that day, Rowenna’s voice mingles amongst them.

You can understand how she, like everyone else, is unable to leave but you really wish Frigga’s threat had been capable of fulfilment. The blizzard has intruded on her will and Anna tells you between meals while bringing you a few biscuits for your tea that the lady of the house isn’t exactly happy at having to continue to entertain the Viscountess.

Feeling a little better from your day spent recouping after such emotional turmoil, you go to sleep that night more easily with the nervous knot in your belly significantly smaller than the day before.

You’re awoken the following day by a rapid set of knocks and the pull back of your curtains to let the sun in.

You gasp, lifting your hand to shield your eyes for a moment so that you can adjust to the change in light.

“Anna,” you whimper, pleading with your lady’s maid for a little patience with you.

“Anna is busy in the greenhouse. Time to wake, sweet girl.”

You gasp again, this time in shock as you spring out of your bed and quickly run your fingers through your nest of a bedhead to try and make yourself more presentable as the Duchess turns to look you over.

“Oh,” she smiles, amused by you for some reason. “I suppose I should go get Anna. I wanted to wake you and give you the news myself but I don’t think I thought it through.”

She chuckles and throws her hands up, looking much more chipper than she did the last time you saw her.

“New, Your Grace?” you mumble, trying and somehow manage with great difficulty not to yawn.

“Now that I think on it, perhaps it’s better if I don’t give the surprise away. Dress comfortably, but prettily, if you can manage to find a balance. And a simple shawl is all you’ll need. The house is warm enough, as you know.”

She heads for the door and as she walks out into your sitting room she calls back out to you as you curtsy quickly.

“I’ll send Anna for you,” she waves and disappears as quickly as she appeared.

You stand there, flabbergasted, staring at the falling snow outside your large bedroom windows. The glass is thick, expensive, and while you can feel a very slight coldness coming from the space it’s not enough to combat the heat from the three fires in your rooms.

The snow outside is thicker on the ground than it was yesterday. It must have snowed heavily again last night.

As pretty as the winter is on the expansive and gorgeous grounds of the estate, you chew on your lip knowing that Rowenna will not have been able to leave, yet again.

“My lady?”

You turn towards the door and offer Anna a genuine smile, “Good morning, Anna.”

She smiles and leads you to the vanity.

~~~~~~~~~~

You end up choosing a pink satin gown over which you lay a second layer of sheer white muslin. You’re grateful for your winter chemise, and the thick stays you’d had commissioned for the cold back home.

In this blizzard, it’s truly paying off. The floral white shawl wrapped around your shoulders as well as the soft chemisette sitting high on your neck in gentle ruffles helps keep the occasional cool breeze from making contact with your skin.

The sheer lace muslin of your gown is a little more loose than most normal gowns in fashion. Mim had assured you that this was the latest fashion that no one knows about yet and you’d be ahead of the trend. And, as she’d excitedly continued, it can easily be used again in the spring.

You miss her, and as you find your way to the southern wing of the estate, first floor, you stop at the large glass and wrought iron doors of what Anna said would be the greenhouse.

You hadn’t seen this space from the front of the house or been offered a tour during your first week here so you’re eager to see the splendor of Frigga’s indoor gardens.

The smells that assault your nose as you enter the warm room are intoxicating.

You can smell every rose you’ve ever read of or seen. There are mostly white blossoms around you on the lattice lining the center pillars, interlaced with endless green vines.

The vines crawl up along these pillars and wrap around the iron supports that line the arched domed glass ceiling of the greenhouse. Every few feet is a beige marble pillar and an archway of bricks over tall curved windows. Along these windows are planter boxes made of similar marble in a slightly earthier tone with more lush greenery and what looks like an endless blooming of roses, gardenia, impatiens, chrysanthemums, and so many others that you can’t remember the name for or have never seen before.

The gentle flow of water reaches your ears and you spot a hand foot wide channel running along the front of the planters that seems to be there to irrigate the blossoms.

It’s beautiful, otherworldly, and your new favorite room of the estate if only because in contrast to the falling snow outside it makes you feel cozy and warm.

Your attention is pulled away from the beauty around you by the sound of soft chatter up ahead.

You hear Rowenna specifically, her voice easy and pleasant in its conversation. Then she laughs and your heart gives a painful clench as you wonder if this is all some sort of elaborate plan by Frigga and Odin to drive Loki and Rowenna apart by make you walk in on them to rouse a guilt that Frigga for some reason thinks Loki will feel if you see him but he made his feelings for you clear at the ball.

To your surprise, as your feet stutter with trepidation just out of sight, you hear the Viscount’s throaty chuckle and your heart releases all tension.

Feeling slightly more confident you move around the last large column in the center that keeps the source of voices out of view and what you see nearly draws another gasp from you.

The long wooden tables that you suspect usually sit at the center of the empty space have been pushed against the far walls on either side of the large doors that lead out into the back gardens.

The empty space has been remade with thick warm blankets, cushions, and throws that several of the women have resting over their laps. Frigga is sitting in a chair instead however, but Rowenna sits with her husband at the top right corner of the room on a royal blue blanket.

To the left are a few other ladies sitting with a few young men you recognize from the ball. Stranded guests. At the left center is another blanket with only one person sitting upon it, munching on a plate of what looks like roast chicken, cheese, pickles, and pigeon pie?

He looks relaxed with his navy jacket pulled off and thrown onto a nearby chair pushed against the wall. His golden waistcoat bulges a little around his belly, and his sleeves are slightly rolled up to combat the unnatural heat of the greenhouse.

“Heimdall?” you smile, pleased to see him again so soon.

“Your ladyship, we have been waiting for you,” he smiles, lifting a small cup up towards you and then taking a sip of what must be his tea.

Your eyes scan the room again and your stomach aches as they land on one of the previous lady’s plates and you see roast chicken, bread pudding, duck, and some boiled eggs.

Getting time to reply to Heimdall is impossible because as soon as you speak, another set of eyes are drawn to you. Green eyes that are glued to you with no sign of being removed.

You teeter backwards, startled by Loki’s sudden approach and your gut tells you to turn and flee. You’ve always wondered what you might do when faced with an uncomfortable encounter and now you know that your first inclination is to get as far away from the source of the disturbance as possible.

He stops suddenly, hands behind his back as he bows to you and again you lean away from him if only because you’re still not sure if you want to run yet or not. The idea is tempting.

“Your ladyship,” Loki begins, his smooth voice as soft as silk and deep. You hate him more suddenly. “I am so glad you made it.”

Confused, you look to Frigga who spots you and smiles fondly before leaning over to another older woman who sits beside her drinking tea at a small iron garden table.

Because you aren’t certain why he would personally be so elated you’re here after the reception he gave you at the ball, you keep your lips sealed and wait for him to keep going.

“I had the privilege of corresponding with your governess, Mrs. Hamish when my mother and father first told me of their promise to your father and I’m happy to say she was eager to give me as much insight into your likes and dislikes as possible. You are fond of picnics, are you not?”

Even though everything is perfect, the florals, the smell of good food, the blankets and pillows thrown about on the to make the hard floor more comfortable and warm during such a frigid winter, you’re loath to tell him that you like the setup.

Instead you give the room a long look before you meet his expectant gaze, “It’s a bit extravagant for a picnic. Just because you set it on the floor on a blanket doesn’t mean it’s a picnic.”

Loki’s smile fades just a little and yet his green eyes twinkle with determination.

“Oh,” he says simply, sounding a little disappointed. “I’m sorry it’s not up to your standards.”

“Everyone else seems to be enjoying the fruit of your efforts,” you point out, looking at the grouping of strangers you met in passing the night of the ball.

The ladies especially all eye you and lean across their plates and pillows to whisper pointedly.

On the right hand side, Rowenna’s hazel eyes are glued to Loki’s back. As she meets yours, her worried look turns to a hostile glare.

The muttering around you gives you a diluted yet familiar twinge in your chest that reminds you of Loki’s snubbing the night of the ball.

All civility is washed away as one of the ladies behind Loki snickers, her eyes quickly averted as he turns to look at her.

“However,” you speak, voice hard and cold as you harden yourself to the judgement aimed at you. “I’m astonished you even bothered to make any effort seeing as I was so undeserving of your attentions only just the other night.”

Looking more alert, Loki turns back to you, stealing minute glances back at the younger guests.

The tension in your body leaves you rigid, hands balled into fists at your side as you hold your shoulders back and tight, chin slightly held up in defense of your heart’s ache.

“Your ladyship, if you will allow me to explain-” Loki begins but behind him Rowenna shifts in her seat, huffing a little before turning her gaze back on Loki.

The movement and sound draws his attention and he spares her the quickest of looks before turning back to you, but it’s enough.

It sets your temper alight and you take a slow deep breath, then speak deliberately and slowly so that he will not mistake your meaning.

“Did you know that first impressions shape the course of all relationships? Once someone has formed an opinion of you, it will take ten times as many meetings to wipe the slate clean.

“My father made certain that when I grew up, no matter the person, I was to make a favorable impression so that in future, should I need that connection I would have the advantage of a good foundation.”

“My lady,” Loki tries again but you’re not about to give him a chance.

“There was one man who made such a favorable impression on me the night of the ball that I can no longer justify standing here and wasting precious time when you have made it so abundantly clear that you have no desire for my company. I wish to foster my connections with the Baron Velez. So, if you will excuse me, my lord. I do believe the Lady Gardner is in need of your own company.

“Look, there. She’s so eager for your attention she will not stop staring. Isn’t that funny?”

Clearly, by the lack of amusement on your face you do not indeed find it humorous.

As he turns to look at Rowenna who meets his eyes and then quickly averts her gaze to her husband, you give Loki a quick curtsy.

“My lord,” you say in parting but as you move to get around him, that warm grip is around your wrist again, keeping you from reaching Heimdall.

“Wait,” he says your name and the liberty he takes is so astonishing that you close the space between your bodies so that you’re standing mere inches from him, fuming.

Chest rising with the labor of your breath, you bring your wrist up between your bodies so that his grip is hidden from the rest of the room. When you speak your voice is low, firm, and quick with anger.

“I cannot believe I must ask you again, my lord but I will implore you to refrain from taking such liberties with both my person and my name. You do not know me and made it very clear that you did not wish to. Now you throw a picnic in what? An attempt to assuage your parents in their desire for our union?

“You might be able to pretend at the effort, but I cannot. You have rejected me, Lord Odinson, and I will take that rejection in stride. I only ask that you allow me the dignity to do so.

“Now, I cannot believe I must repeat myself but if you take hold of me one more time I will honor my promise and strike you in front of the Duke, Duchess, and all of these lovely people who hold you in such high regard. I have enough money that the scandal will not hurt me but it will warrant the question as to what you did to prompt such a violent and uncouth reaction.”

Loki’s eyebrows shoot up, his lips curling a little on one side in a gentle smirk. He blinks then looks down at his hand around your wrist before deliberately releasing it so that his fingers are left splayed a few seconds before he allows his hand to drop to his side.

“Do you find this amusing, sir?” you ask him, stunned by his smile.

He seems to realize he’s offending you because he shakes his head and quickly tries to wipe the smirk away but he can’t remove the curve completely.

“You know, my father pitied you,” this seems to do the trick and his brows are drawn back down in confusion. “He said I should be a supportive and loving wife. Someone who would stand at your side no matter the obstacle. I don’t think he ever imagined you would stand in your own way. He said you would be a good man and I have heard people call you a gentleman. How unsatisfying it is to find that both accounts are untrue.”

He’s stunned into silence, his vibrant green eyes made slightly wide by your calculated attack. You don’t want to be the only one with an aching heart if you can possibly help it. Not when he’s going so far out of his way to make light of his behavior at the ball.

“Next time, don’t waste your time making arrangements for what you think I might like. I know you don’t mean it and it only makes the hurt worse.”

Loki draws back a little, forgetting your mean words and instead focuses on what you know is a slip on your own part. As soon as the words leave your lips, you regret them, knowing that you’ve given him more power over you.

Admitting what he did hurts...he might have assumed that your tears on the night of the ball were of embarrassment. Now you've gone and admitted they weren't. Not completely.

He swallows hard, searching your face as you struggle to keep it straight.

“My lady,” he whispers, the deep echo of his voice is pleasant and you hate to hear it. You can’t let him say anything in that voice or you’ll lose even more of your power to him.

“Excuse me, Lord Odinson, I have someone waiting.”

You give him a quick curtsy and hurry to Heimdall who gets up to help you down onto the blanket beside him and begins to help fill you a plate and a cup of tea while you deliberately avoid Loki’s unending gaze.

~~~~~~~~~~

It would have been lovely if Loki had heeded your words and ceased all attempts to worm his way into your good graces.

Instead you find the next few days plagued by his attempts to turn that dreadful first impression of his around.

You do have to hand it to him, he did indeed do his research and while you hate that Mim was the source of his information, he made certain to use every aspect of what she wrote in her letter.

The day after the picnic, you find your way to the palatial library in the estate. Anna shows you the space and she chuckles at the enthusiasm with which you admire the splendor of so many books.

"Where are you taking me?"

You laugh with her, because she's giddy, and it's contagious. She pulls you along through the long room before turning left and heading towards a tall bookcase with exquisite golden volumes of some series on aquatic animals that you've never read.

"Oh, I kind of prefer to read for entertainment or at the very least history, Anna."

She gives you a wicked smile before reaching for the third book from the right on the second to bottom row. Gently She pulls the top out as if to take it but it clicks instead and the bookcase suddenly splits into a doorway.

You gasp, stunned by the hidden door. Anna pushes the door of books out and you can see it opens to a smaller cozier study with a round table, several cushioned chairs, and a set of beautiful large windows that overlook the front of the estate.

As you wander in, the crackling of a fire welcomed you warmly.

"Anna, what-?" When you turn to ask her why she's showing you this secret room, she's already gone. The door clicks into place which from this side looks normal.

Moving to the round table which happens to be pulled with about twenty books of varying genres, you're happy to see that they are all indeed novels and all of them specifically ones that you have been eager to read.

Gasping you reach out for the closest Mrs. Radcliffe and bite your lip as your excitement mounts.

You back up slowly, waiting for your knees to hit your chair and as they do and you plop down ready to spend the day holed up in this little corner of the house by yourself, a soft and amused chuckle, too deep to be Anna's interrupts you.

Head snapping up, you spot him instantly and wonder how you missed him when you first walked in.

Loki is sitting on the other side of the small room, dressed in head to toe black, save for the cravat around his neck and the shirt underneath his jacket and waistcoat.

He has a book held loosely in his hands as he leans on the left arm of his chair, watching you with those green eyes full of subdued cheer.

"I knew you'd enjoy this space. Are the books to your liking? I pulled everything from your list."

You narrow your eyes at him, heart stuttering at the care with which each of your favorite books and those you desire to read are laid out in a carefully curated messy pile.

With a look at the stack, appraising the arrangement, you breathe in deeply and release a disgruntled sigh.

Loki sits up, rubbing his hands along his trousers before he gets to his feet.

The last thing you want is to talk to him so you move quickly, urging her feet towards the hidden door.

It happens instantly and you cannot even say that he had no reason to expect it.

His the warmth of his hand, now familiar despite your best efforts to keep from reliving the moments, wraps around your wrist with a gentle tug to stop you. Your own body uses the momentum his pull provides and your swing around to face him, your hand making an audible crack against his cheeks as you slap him harder than you mean to.

Maybe it's because you know it's only you two in here? No one around to watch you assault him or he you. Perhaps you've just reached the end of your patience?

Both of you stand there in silence, your mouth agape, hand still held up as if frozen beside his head. Loki’s eyes are stunned, mouth parted, cheek getting redder by the second.

Slowly he releases your wrist.

Your shock turns to outrage turns to justified defiance.

"I-I did warn you not to take liberties," you squeak, losing some of the volume and pitch of your voice in the surprise that even you hadn't thought you'd follow through with your threat.

You give him no time to respond and instead turn, rushing through the hidden door to leave him and his stupid, rude, presumptuous grabbing reeling from the nice slap just delivered.

~~~~~~~~~~

Loki's attempts do not cease despite your clear feelings that his attentions are unwelcome.

You wake up with fresh flowers in your room despite the season for them being over. They're beautiful deep purple flowers that remind you of the night sky that Anna tells you are called Midnight Dahlias.

The color is so rich and with the effect of the odd petals, it looks as if you could fall within the flower and lose yourself in its depths.

"They must be very expensive," you realize, staring at the bouquet already in a vase on your dresser.

Anna smiles, "I believe Master Loki really wishes to make you aware of his intentions."

"And what are those?" You sigh. "To embarrass me in front of all of England again?"

Anna leans down in the midst of expertly curling your hair, and whispers, "To marry you, your ladyship. The younger Master Odinson has said so several times since the night of the ball that he will not rest until you're his wife."

Your ears begin to burn and your neck scorches. Your arms and hands go numb as your legs begin to tingle. A subtle fluttering works its way from your chest down into the pit of your stomach and you quickly avert your eyes from Anna’s reflection.

She laughs at you, her hands moving quickly through your hair as she pins and fixes.

After breakfast Loki invites you for a walk through the garden at the time you usually take it.

You refuse him, of course, and wait nearly an hour before you sneak out of the large sitting room where everyone is mingling to go outside and get your walk in.

Not surprisingly, you’re halfway through your usual pattern when Heimdall joins you.

You spot Loki watching from a window a few times but try your best to ignore him.

After dinner, Loki invites you to play on the piano forte, eagerly waiting for you to take his hand but luckily, Heimdall comes to your rescue yet again and offers his own hand to take a stroll about the room.

You take his offer quickly and leave Loki standing there with his hand still held out for you.

He doesn’t look embarrassed as you turn to glance at him.

Rowenna rises and moves to him, whispering something for only him to hear but he scoffs and looks at her. He says something and she blanches. Her hazel eyes blaze and you can see her hand twitch as if she would like nothing more than to slap him too.

She doesn’t and she retreats back to her corner as Loki stands up straight, places his hands behind his back, and meets your curious gaze with his own bright and excited greens.

“He will persist,” Heimdall warns.

“I have only to endure another three days. After that I will return home and forget this all ever happened,” you nod.

“Does that mean you’ll forget me as well, your ladyship?” Heimdall asks, the soft hurt in his voice matches the gentle sadness on his face.

“Heimdall, no. I-I didn’t mean that I wanted to forget our friendship. Indeed, you are always welcome at Kilnaroch. It would be an honor to have you-” you’re interrupted by Heimdall’s deep chuckle and he reaches over to pat your hand which you wrap just slightly more tightly around his elbow.

“A mere jest, my lady. I know you do not mean to forget me.”

You relax, smiling at the teasing and the obvious fabrication of the disappointment both in his voice and eyes which you only now recognize after he’s revealed his deceit. You make note of it so that he won’t be able to fool you again.

“However, it is nice to know that I am welcome at your home. Once you are gone, I will miss your company.” Heimdall means it this time too.

There’s no mistaking the wistful tone in his voice.

Neither of you had expected to find someone so pleasant to talk to at the ball and the connection between you is truly pleasant.

“I will miss you, too, Heimdall.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve finally made it to the final day you’d promised the Duchess you’d stay. Two weeks since you’d come to Asgard and while it is certainly a short trip compared to that of Rowenna’s and the Viscount, it feels like ages since you first arrived.

Part of that is Loki’s non-stop attempts to win your favor back. Your rooms are full of purple dahlias now and several other small gifts that you’d normally have loved but find exhausting and bothersome with the expectations they were given.

After a morning of sitting with the ladies, the men having retreated to their own private area for masculine contemplation, you rise and call for Anna as you’re ready for your walk.

She brings your muff and tippet and helps secure the latter around your shoulders. The soft gray fur and golden ribbons tied around your shoulders to keep it in place compliment the rich purple of your gown.

The small golden leaves printed on the fabric add just enough color to balance out the darker tone of your dress.

The fur trim of your muff keeps your hands warm as you wander out into the garden, breath steaming from your mouth as you fight off a shiver at the sudden shock of cold.

There is no snow at the moment but you’re certain that more is still to come. Even if you should wish to leave after today, you know that it’ll be foolish to have Hamish make the trip.

The horses would suffer for it and it’s possible that you’d end up stranded on the way home.

Even though you don’t want to admit it to yourself just yet, you know that you’ll probably have to stay until the snow begins to melt in a month or two.

With a deep inhale you stop by the large fountain, frozen with no water spouting from its center, and shift your feet around the soft crunch of the snow.

You consider taking a seat but your body is far too cold to stop walking so you turn to move along down the second trail you take further out towards the large lake halfway between the house and the folly you can see in the distance.

Gasping, you’re halted by Loki’s contemplative gaze.

Slowly, his thoughts are lost to the shock of seeing you out here, hands shoved into your muff for warmth.

“Countess,” Loki says with genuine surprise.

“My lord,” you curtsy quickly, and without waiting move to walk around him as your heart stutters to catch up.

You cannot even say that you’re rushing away from fear that he might make declarations or more attempts to win you over. You’re simply startled by the fact that you weren't expecting to see him and after Anna’s words about him telling everyone that you are to be his wife, your heart clenches and restarts at double the speed as you pass him.

“My lady,” Loki says, turning to look at you as you stop and turn for him. “Are you not cold?”

His question seems silly seeing as he’s standing there with his mouth smoking out in the freezing air. His hands are gloved, his coat thick, his hat on firmly to stave off the elements.

“Aren’t you?” you counter, despite the surprise he’s caught you in, you’re automatically on the defensive with him.

Loki scoffs with amusement, chuckling just once before nodding, his eyes brought down to your hands shoved into your muff before he brings them back up to dazzle you with the laughter sparking them.

“I am a little, I suppose. Are you enjoying your walk?”

“I was,” you reply instinctively.

Loki’s lips tighten into a firm smile, understanding that he’s disturbed you.

“Right. I didn’t know you were out here, in case you are assuming that I came out here to bother you,” he explains and something about the shame in his voice makes your heart ache.

“No, I-” you clear your throat, stunned by the awkwardness of this unexpected encounter. “-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that you are unwelcome. It is your garden, after all.”

Silence stretches between the two of you for a minute, both of you blinking with uncertainty with how to proceed.

Should you just break away? Run to your rooms like you have been doing?

There’s no one out here to see him try anything or to overhear anything the two of you are saying.

This feels so much more intimate than any other moment you’ve shared with him yet.

You clear your throat softly, unable to take the silence or the waiting any longer.

“I suppose I’ll finish my walk. Excuse me, Lord Loki.”

Before you can turn away, he says, “Your ladyship?”

Watching him, you wait.

“I don’t want you to misunderstand me, I’m not trying to-” he lets the words fall away as he knows he doesn’t need to explain to you what he means. “-Might I show you something?”

Trepidation worms its way into you, stunning your limbs into place. You don’t know if you can trust him. He’s proven he can be deceitful and mischievous. You’re not sure what he’ll do if you agree.

“I have never shown anyone else before but I want to show you.”

“Me?”

He nods. “Just you.”

Heart hammering against your chest, you look back at the main house and bite your lip, considering your options and how much you really want to know what he wants to show you.

“What is it?” you finally ask, turning back to him.

Loki smiles and takes several steps away from you, “It’s a bit of a walk so, wait here. Give me just a few moments. Please, don’t go anywhere.”

He’s still backing up, almost as if he’s afraid if he looks away from you that you’ll disappear.

“I won’t move,” you promise him and with that he’s satisfied and turns to face the direction he’s going.

You listen to him crunch away from you around the side of the house and out of sight.

Looking around, you breathe in and out slowly attempting to calm your nerves as you wait for him to return.

If he hadn’t caught you off guard you’d have been more ready to put up your walls against him. Now you’re too curious to attempt it.

Something no one else has seen? How can you resist the temptation?

Only a few minutes later you hear the unmistakable gait of a horse. From around the house Loki comes astride a large black Clydesdale, trotting easily through the snow with its enormous hooves.

Loki pulls his reins as he gets close so that he moves at a slow walk then stops beside you as you reel a little by the sheer size of the animal.

“Um…”

“It’s just a short ride,” Loki promises. “It’s too cold to walk the distance but we’ll still be in view of the house.”

Leaning over the side, he offers you his gloved hand and waits patiently as you stare at it.

It takes you much longer than it should but you reach out and take his hand. With surprising strength he pulls you up and settles you in front of him, between his arms and legs.

You’re trying not to hyperventilate by the sudden closeness of your bodies. The heat coming from him is nice while out in the freezing air. His breath is also hot along your cheek as he looks down at you and adjusts the reins in his hands to make room for you.

“Steady?” he asks, checking to see that you’re on and comfortable.

You nod, trembling there in his unavoidable embrace.

“Where are we going?” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper from the lack of breaths you’ve not taken.

“Just to the other side of the lake,” Loki nods with his head, pointing at the looming folly in the distance. “To my own personal escape. Where no one else has entered in nearly ten years.”

You stare at the small tower in the distance. A grander folly than you’ve ever seen with beautiful bricks to match the house and what looks like a distant and frozen garden around it too.

“Hold on, my lady,” Loki says, deep and low into your ear making you shiver. “I wouldn’t want you to fall off.”

#loki x reader #regency!loki x countess!reader #loki x you #loki odinson x reader #arranged marriage au #regency era au #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #loki odinson x you #regency!loki x you #he says he loves me pt05 #he says he loves me #loki angst #loki fluff

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