#would you walk up to this fellow and hit your scepter on the floor

[lemonsweet]

Terrifying work photo

[kaleidescope-writes]

4-- King's Pet

WARNING: DARK FIC!! Please read at your own discretion. 

18+ Under the Cut!!

You weren’t sure how long you’d been here. All you remember is you were a relatively new S.H.I.E.L.D agent, working the night he appeared. You witnessed many of your fellow agents, agents you worked with, die at the hands of this self proclaimed god. You saw how with a single tap of his scepter gave him the ability to control the few agents he chose to spare. You fought back. You did everything you could to fight back. The last thing you remembered trying to stop him from getting to the vehicles before everything went black. When you woke up, you were tied to a chair in a room that looked like it was underground. That god stood in front of you with a sadistic smile. Since then, he’s kept you closely by his side. He never once tried to use the scepter against you, insisting that you’d learn to cherish him on your own. You didn’t know why he chose you, but he held a tight grip. Every time you tried to escape, he caught you within seconds, always brandishing that fucking smile. Every time he caught you, he pinned you against the nearest wall and kissed you forcefully, claiming you needed to be reminded that you belonged to him. That you were his pet.

You lost track of how many days it had been since he showed up. All you knew was that he’d brought you to, what was, Stark’s building in Manhattan. This is where you’d spent the last few days. You were sitting on the floor near the window, watching the skies as you contemplated another escape attempt. Maybe this time, you could get far. Maybe we would catch you again. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t be so lenient. Your fist hit the floor as you let out a frustrated groan. You couldn’t keep living like this. He had you, completely helpless. He would never let you go. You felt a tear fall from your eye as the sound of the elevator opening alerted you to his presence. He was back. You didn’t want to look at him. You were so sick of him. The sound of his footsteps stopping made you tense slightly, feeling his intense stare on you. “Admiring the view of my new kingdom?” he asked in that sadistic tone you’d gotten used to. You didn’t say a word, keeping your eyes fixed on the darkening sky. His footsteps came closer, slowing once he was a few feet away. “Silence won’t stop me from finding an answer,” he hissed after not receiving an answer. You looked down, not willing to break this time. Immediately, he walked over to you, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you up to stand. He then turned you around to face him, grabbed your wrists in one hand, and shoved you to the nearest wall. He kept his eyes fixated on you as he watched you try to break free from his grip. You knew it was useless, but you had to try something. He chuckled darkly, pressing his body to yours to stop your movement. “You know it’s useless, love. You can’t escape me. Not when I chose you to be mine.” he kissed your neck, causing you squirm even more with no success. He kept kissing you, seemingly encouraged by the way you tried to fight him. 

Pulling away, he looked you in the eye, smile growing as you glared at him. “I told you from the beginning, love. There's only one way to end this.” He  placed a knife to your neck, making you lift your head. “Submit to me,” he whispered, pushing the knife into your neck slightly. You closed your eyes, not wanting to look him in the eye. He let out a laugh, “I know you’re breaking. The only way to be free is to admit you’re mine.” Removing the knife from your neck, he lifted himself off you a bit, letting you take a breath.  “So what will be?” he asked in an amused tone, watching as you looked down. “Yes,” you whispered, still looking at the floor. He lifted your chin with the hand that once held the knife, “Yes what?” Taking a deep breath, you made yourself look at him in the eye, dreading the words that fell from your lips.

“Yes my King.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[spmcomic]

Theia and Gaia

Cover

Chapter 1: (part 1 | part 2)   Chapter 2: (part 1 | part 2)

Chapter 3: (part 1 | part 2)   Chapter 4: (part 1 | part 2)

“We’re here,” the taller one’s voice cut into the space, drawing the voices back. “The Robot Processing Center.” It gestured with its horrible little hand at the building that jutted from the cliff side, blocking the walkway. A wide, tall entrance led into the side of the structure, and the voices saw more porcelain bodies moving inside. The space turned its head. The upper levels of the walkway similarly led straight into the side of the building, but at the bottom level a wide, flat plaza in front of the structure swarmed with the robed creatures.

The inside of the building was more complex than anything the voices had seen before. It looked much smaller than the outside, with a ceiling only a few body lengths above the space. But then, as the eyes adjusted, the voices saw that the room was actually much larger than the building’s walls suggested. It must have been carved deep into the stone of the cliff. In the distance, they could just make out entrances to tunnels, lit by fires that did not flicker or smoke. The various porcelain creatures cast long, wavering shadows across the plain flooring and the irregular walls as they milled about.

Over there- what’s that- one of the monsters waited by a small, transparent chamber, as a platform lowered to the ground from a hole in the ceiling. Of course- multiple layers- what a great idea- how do they stop it from caving in-

The floor in here provided unexpected relief. The fork-legs had some traction, the wrist protrusions felt just a little give to the floor. Finally, the space could walk confidently. The taller one glanced anxiously at the space, as they led it across the floor to the lifting chamber.

When the chamber arrived, the two figures pushed the space inside, the taller one holding up its stone the whole way. The voices eyed its white-knuckled grip against the piece of metal, and then the passing floors as the lift continued its journey. They came to the agreement that they must be climbing to the top of the structure. But then the chamber stopped, and opened. The figures herded the space through the opening, and behind them the lift continued upward out of view.

“Head Merletaph!” The taller one called, spreading its arms to reveal more bald, corpse-like skin. “We have a surviving Lazarus.”

The creature in the room, Head Merletaph, sat with one leg folded over the other in an odd-looking chair. Its shroud was much less cumbersome, a poncho down to the hips, with golden embroidery and a secure hood fully hiding its face from view. The voices whispered incoherently, unable to agree on the title- the Warlord- the Den Parent- the Captain-

The leader hardly glanced up from its thin, wide sheet before settling back down, resting an elbow on the table next to it. “Oh. Good work.” It shuffled the sheet with thin, skeletal fingers. “Run along, now. Get to the next one.”

“But sir-” the shorter one began, holding out its slate.

The leader stopped it with a sharp, yellow-eyed glare. The two figures shuffled, the shorter one placed the slate on the table, and they left. The space turned to follow.

“You. You stay.” The leader merely lifted a finger and the space felt itself turned back toward the room, frozen in place. They sat like that for what felt like hours, the voices quivering, the leader turning the folds of its sheet occasionally.

The freedom of the sea. Kai swung expertly through the ropes and wood of the rigging, tugging here and there at the sails, perking their ears up to test the wind. They would rarely pause, perched against the mast, only happy with their feet in the air. Their nails dug into the wood as they shielded their eyes from the sun, gazing at the clouds on the horizon. The wind would change direction, soon.

“Well?” The leader interrupted, before the name could find its voice. The leader leveled its flat gaze at the space.

The voices could only flick their eyes to the side, noting the far wall of the chasm through the window, and back to the leader.

“Are you going to talk,” the leader spat, leaning forward in its chair. The voices churned. This body could speak?

The leader set the sheet aside on the table and stood, smoothing out its poncho. “Very well. We’ll do this the hard way.”

In an instant, the leader jumped forward, and thrust its palm into the base of the space’s neck. The voices scattered, the legs shuddered, and the space fell to the floor. Disconnected half-whispers drifted haphazardly into each other, unable to coordinate.

The leader kicked the space’s neck, and the jagged voices cried out.

“I am going to do this,” it said, punctuating each word with a kick, “until you tell me to stop.”

The voices tried to wheeze and struggle, but the space did not need to breathe, and each of the voices thrashed out at different limbs, moving none of them. They scrambled into each other, then scattered again at the next kick.

The old man sat on his throne, his paws clenched against the scepter of gator bone, ruminating. His beady eyes looked over his army down the hill as they labored to build a hasty wall in the face of the oncoming storm. Across the field, he could see the tiny specks of his opponent digging their own burrows. Their insistence on staying underground would be their demise. Bryagh showed all his teeth in a maniacal grin. Yes, while the waters poured… His soldiers could bury their air holes.

“Stop.” The mechanical voice grated, startling twenty-nine voices. Then the mechanical voice groaned with the rest of them, escalating into an anguished howl. This voice was wrong, unnatural- like the hammer against the anvil, missing the weapon- like the call of the eagle about to strike-

The leader turned and strode back to the table, picking up the slate to examine it. It snorted and tossed it back down. “They’re all troublemakers. Fine.”

It waved its hand dismissively. “Pick yourself up and go. From the top of this building, climb straight up the wall. The trolley operators there will give you your assignment.”

The voices struggled upright. It felt as though the joints in the fork-legs creaked with the effort. All the voices could focus on was that wrenching sound squealing from the head as they instinctively panted. The knife-fingers flexed, but with only a glance back at the space, the leader sent a shudder through the body. The voices found themselves picking their way out of the room and into the chamber with the lift. They found an opening to the cliff side, a window, and dug their wrist protrusion into the stone. The sharp point of the limb dug in firmly, and the fork-legs had little trouble jabbing into the smallest footholds. The space was halfway up the cliff side before the voices could catch up to reality. There they paused.

Back down in the ravine, a bright light shone from one of the buildings. The voices recognized this one- the chamber they had first emerged from. The light flickered like a flame in a storm- like the candle at the end of the wick- like fanning wood embers- through the windows. A rising shriek echoed out of the chamber, followed by shattering glass. Then, silence. Below, on the walkways, some of the porcelain creatures paused. Some bowed their heads. Others simply continued their business.

The space had no direction to go but upward. But it only took one step up the wall before it stopped. A violent shudder ran down its joints and up its neck.

“I won’t!” The old man thrashed on his deathbed. “I can’t! Not after everything else! A little cold can’t kill me!”

His attendants sat outside the room. He could hear them, between labored breaths. Perhaps they were waiting to clamor for his position the moment he died. But Bryagh knew from watching so many others- they would never last as long as he.

None had survived the Plague before. But he could survive. He had always survived. He would survive! He would survive…

A violent-

Neima dropped her trumpet, a dizzying weakness wracking her body. The instrument hit the floor with a clang, and a jangle as a piece broke off. She didn’t see which one, doubled over on the bed, bloody drool dripping down her chin. This was the end, it had to be… She pawed desperately at the quill on the end table. Had to get that last song down… She’d ink it in her own blood if she had to…

There was a-

There was a sudden weakness in Kai’s wrists and fingers, and their grip slipped- they fell through the air- hit the water’s surface-

The space froze, rigid-

Divya stumbled, listing hard to the side. She rested a paw on the shallow wall, the only thing that stopped her from tumbling right off the roof.

“Div!” Her brother called. His voice seemed so distant now, even though he was right next to her, holding her under the arms. He brushed damp fur out of her eyes. “I-I’ll get the Den Mother, she’ll know…”

She closed her eyes. “It’s okay, Udom. It’s okay. Just sit with me…”

The space-

Deven tightened his icy grip on his spear, hands trembling in his weakness. Outnumbered and out-supplied, his fellow guards shivered as they watched the invaders bear down on the little stronghold. It was time to move. He hopped up into position, spear at the ready- but the enemy had already climbed the wall- his sluggish feet couldn’t get traction enough to jump away-

Stop-

The eagles shrieked, somewhere not too far behind. They would take the slowest runner. The little party’s leader was slow and frail, but she held the key to their quest’s victory. Ishani knew her own days were numbered as she wheezed and struggled just behind the group. Well… They needed their leader. Ishani stumbled to a stop as her friends continued bounding through the canyon, and closed her eyes.

Enough-

Uk’s only comfort was their companion, stroking their fur gently as they struggled to breathe. But the air seemed to grow thinner, and farther away, no matter how desperate the pleas…

Lazarus screamed a mechanical grinding squeal as its wrists lost their grip on the stone and its full weight pushed into its thin hind legs for support. It backpedaled down the wall a few steps before driving the blades back into the stone and stopping itself with a harsh crackle of old rocks coming loose. This was… This was…

The voices moaned and howled together. They had died! They had been murdered- had had their lives stolen by these- by these-

Kill them! One voice roared above the others.

Yes, yes! Twenty-nine others replied as one. Go back!

Rocks scattered across the roof of the building as Lazarus tore back down through the window. But the leader was already gone. It swung its head back and forth- there- the lift- the leader can’t have gotten far-

It wrenched open the lift doors with an echoing clang. These creatures’ insistence on giving it knives for arms and legs would be their undoing. Inside the lift, Lazarus scrabbled at the hard, smooth walls- no give. But these legs were long if not sturdy. The voices pushed as one, and two legs struck the wall, piercing the stone just enough for purchase. They descended. The voices clamored as they approached the next floor down. They would search every layer of this structure- the leader could not hide for long.

Another creature under a bright, heavy cloth called out and ran toward Lazarus, holding up one of those metal shards. Lazarus’ eyes flicked toward the device, and it snapped its wrist out- like a blade- like a spear- and skewered the creature’s pale, fleshy arm. It wailed, and Lazarus used its free arm to shove the creature aside. More jogged in from the open hall doors. But this body was large, and heavy, and broad. The voices charged forward together, bowling over the smaller creatures in their path. The legs skittered against the hard, unyielding hallway floor.

This body was too bulky to sense vibrations in the ground. No matter. Let the creatures give chase. They would rue the day they challenged Bryagh- Deven- Ezra- Neima- Exene- Amaru-

An open window. A ramp. Lazarus climbed through, folding its legs farther than any animal should be able to, and crawled along the wall of the building. The outside of the structure was built from the same stone as the ravine wall; its fork-legs clung easily to the surface. It found a lower window and slid into a cramped hallway, with walls the color and consistency of the blades Timur spent so much time crafting. A hard clang rung out into the darkness with every step Lazarus took. It could tell from the whirring and humming, like a giant beast slumbering within the ravine wall, that this floor was important. Even if it could not find the leader, Lazarus would find what they were hiding here and break it.

The voices began their charge across the floor, but a leg became suddenly unresponsive. Lazarus turned back. The floor, there were tiny holes, the toes of the knife-legs had gotten caught. It planted its wrist blades between the holes and yanked its foot free, only to trap the next leg. The voices chittered in frustration, their rage escaping as a grinding growl. This floor was thinner and flimsier, and Lazarus could already hear footsteps a few yards away. It had to hurry. It danced across the floor, stumbling every few steps as its legs stuck, until it reached more solid ground.

There it is, the leader’s bright poncho decorated in silver, standing across a platform of the holed flooring. It seemed a little different than before, but none of the voices cared enough to waste time examining it. Lazarus bent its legs and launched itself as far across the room as it could.

But the body was heavy, and the legs thin. Lazarus only hopped a short distance, landed on the flooring, and staggered. The leader turned around, its silver eyes wide, and stumbled back against the wall. Lazarus tripped and crashed to the floor.

The leader effortlessly raised its hand, and the voices found themselves scrambling, unable to coordinate or move the body.

“Finished with your temper tantrum?” The leader asked, high and cold. A different voice than before. Two leaders?

“I think that one’s another Warlord Bryagh,” a distant voice echoed across the room. The voices spun, trying to turn the head, to find the source. Was there someone else here? This voice sounded jarringly familiar.

The leader snorted. “Probably at least one other soldier in there, too. Put a hole in the poor kid upstairs. But they just finished you, didn’t they? You’re a coordinated little concoction.”

The voices struggled, but the arms and legs, the neck, the eyes, remained unresponsive.

“Looks like it caused some damage to a windowsill upstairs, but not much else. You’re not… are you?”

“We have to, Sentry. Merletaph would kill me if I didn’t. Especially with a Bryagh shard, you know how much of a headache that guy’s been over in Mulu. Ping the boys over at Reconditioning and get…” The leader paused, contemplating its fingers. “Sisyphus, to carry this one out. Don’t want those legs and blades causing any trouble.”

“… Right away, Head Merlock.”

The voices buzzed, trapped in an unmoving pile of rocks. What was that voice? Lazarus needed to see- needed to meet- to figure out-

Something lifted its body from behind and half-dragged it out of the room and down endless corridors, leaving the voices reeling. The shrouded creatures stepped aside, watching the body and its prison keeper pass.

-

Previous | Next

[cclkestis]

reminder of hope.

character(s): steve rogers x reader

words: 1.1k+

warning(s): !!!!pretty major spoilers for endgame!!!! don’t read if you’ve not seen the movie yet (unless you don’t mind spoilers ofc)

a/n: hi hello I haven’t written in months, and it’s been several years since I’ve written for marvel so please have mercy :’))

--

The city was a mess, the citizens terrified, a new threat unveiled. But at least it was over for now.

Finally, the beaming light and portal in the sky had vanished from site, the trickster behind the battle apprehended by the newly brought together team of heroes you’d come to work with, and somehow managed to befriend – or more than befriend, in the case of one in particular.

You hadn’t seen him since well before everything had gone to hell but you could live with the knowledge that he was alive as you coordinated with fellow SHIELD agents to survey the damage that had been done and to assist with keeping an eye on the devices that were the root of the trouble.

Everything seemed oddly calm asides from the agents rushing around compared to the chaos of the previous hour when, just as this realisation crossed your mind, a gaggle of shouts echoed throughout the lobby.

The prisoner had escaped.

Orders were immediately issued to search the building for him – although what good any one of you could do against a literal god if you happened to come across him was beyond you.

Still, you couldn’t ignore a direct order, so it was with a heavy sigh that you stepped into the elevator that was quick to whisk you up and away from the ground floor and a little of the chaos.

Four searched floors later that didn’t wield any evidence of the Asgardian had you wanting to tear your hair out – it had been a very long and stressful day, but unfortunately going home wasn’t an option for you just yet. Not until the mess was dealt with.

Stepping out of the elevator again, movements almost robotic, you almost stumbled over your own feet when you spotted a familiar figure purposefully walking away from you with a case carried firmly in hand.

None of that mattered or could stop the burst of joy you felt upon seeing him at last.

“Steve!”

The resulting excitement from finally seeing Steve in person, alive and well, distracted you from the little things that ordinarily you would’ve picked up on immediately.

The uniform that you’d never seen before. The way he seemed to freeze up, shoulders tensing, before he slowly turned to face you. The expressions crossing his face. Confusion. Surprise. Longing. Heartbreak.

It took only seconds for you to reach him, throwing yourself towards him and distantly hearing the clatter of the case hitting the ground as he caught you in that firm hold that never failed to make you feel safe. Like everything was going to be alright.

“I’m so happy to see you, I was so worried I-“

As the words rushed from you, it was then that you noticed the uncharacteristic shaking of the man holding you, prompting you to cut yourself off as you pulled back enough to see his face – to see him fighting back tears. To see him looking at you as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Steve? What’s wrong?”

Only on very rare occasions had you seen Steve Rogers distraught or at a loss for words, and something about this particular moment was scaring you.

Just as it appeared that the super soldier was going to offer some sort of explanation, another voice from behind you sounded and drew his attention away from you.

“(Name)!”

Steve’s expression had settled into one of grim determination, longing gaze drawn back to you for only a moment before he carefully forced himself to release you and take a step back.

Turning in confusion, your eyes fell on the new arrival – only to send your mind reeling at the sign of Steve rapidly approaching you and…

Head whipping back around, you had very little time to comprehend what was happening before Steve’s shield whistled past you towards the man who’d been holding you only moments before.

“Get out of here (Name), let them know I’ve got Loki handled.”

Something clicked inside your head, Steve’s words reminding you of the reason you’d even been on that floor in the first place. Loki was some kind of all-powerful being, you should’ve been more careful.

But something just felt wrong about the encounter you’d had only moments ago. What would Loki have to gain from the interaction? And the emotions had just felt too…genuine to be any sort of trick.

The same voice shouting your name again drew you from your thoughts and back to the moment, eyes widened at the sight of the man you loved colliding with his double in what already appeared to be an intense clashing of wills.

Shattering glass sent you skittering back several steps before spinning on your heel and taking off back towards the elevator – despite the intense feeling that something was wrong, and the burning desire to find out why that was the case.

Steve had told you to get out of there in that voice you couldn’t argue with, so you didn’t try to object. Loki was a powerful opponent, and you knew yourself that remaining there would only serve to potentially distract Steve from the fight at hand.

The last thing you saw as the elevator doors slid shut was your Steve being slammed onto his back, the ground cracking from the force, and a saddened set of those same eyes you adored watching you disappear from view.

--

Steve couldn’t find the words to explain how he was feeling. There was a voice shouting in the back of his head, reminding him of the rules they’d been set. They should stay out of sight as much as possible and avoid interacting with people.

But he could’ve sworn that his heart about stopped when you called his name that way you always used to. And when he’d turned to see you rushing towards him with what was almost desperation, how could he have done anything differently?

Five years.

Five years since he’d heard your voice.

Five years since he’d seen you smile in that way that would always catch him off-guard.

Five years since he’d found nothing but dust.

The moment was gone far too soon when his past self came across the two of you, forcing him into action as he watched you run away from him.

It almost felt like he was losing you all over again as a fist collided with his face only moments after you’d vanished from sight.

But there was something more than that pain brewing inside of him now. A reminder of why he was in this crazy situation in the first place. Seeing you had brought back the loss all over again but, more importantly, it brought hope.

Walking away from the unconscious form of his past self, scepter gripped too tightly in hand, Steve knew that he would see you again soon.

[lokiandbuckyaremine]

Just Can’t Get Enough (One-Shot) (Request) (Loki x Agent!Reader)

Prompt: “Dude Imagine #1 and Sentence #1 would be amazing and it somewhat gives me this chill so if you’re down. I’m sure it’ll be amazing!”‚ ~ Requested by @doctorcelina

Imagine #1: Imagine Loki catching an agent flirting with you.

Sentence #1: Look what you made me do

Summary: As a new agent of SHIELD, you are assigned to watch the infamous Loki in his jail cell. You can’t seem to fathom that he has a crush on you, but it is blatantly evident. Maybe it will take his awesome superpowers to get you once and for all

“Y/N, I need to see you in my office please.” Dr. Fury’s voice boomed in your earpiece. “Yes sir.” You replied. You sat down on the bench and finished lacing your boots up. Being an official Agent of SHIELD is very different from training. Now you were given your own locker room which contained all of your weapons, clothes, and a shower. Your room was connected to it, which made it very convenient.

You walked out the door to your locker room and began walking to the elevator at the end of the hall. As soon as you got to the elevator, the doors opened, and guards began pouring out. Standing in the middle of the crowd was none other than Loki Laufeyson, cuffed and smirking. He must’ve gotten himself arrested again, you thought. When he was right near you, you both caught eye contact. He smirked and winked at you before looking back in front of him. Calming yourself down, you resumed to the elevator. As the doors closed, you rested your head up against the back.

You and Loki have had many encounters together. Whether it was him being taken to jail or simply when Thor brings him in. Once, Â you attended a party at the Stark Tower because you were a very close friend of Steve’s. Thor had brought his brother to show everyone how much he has changed. That was the time where you and Loki grew close, and you saw that he wasn’t a monster after all. Given the scenario you just experienced, he obviously got into some bad things again.

The elevator ‘dinged’ and you walked out, swiftly to Fury’s office. You stopped in front of his door to put in your password. “Your name, Agent?” The voice on the scanner asked. “Y/L/N, Y/F/N.” You replied. “Identity confirmed.” The door clicked and you walked in, closing the door behind you. Fury was standing in front of his glass windows, looking over the city. “Sir, you needed to see me?” He turned around a smiled. “Good Morning, Agent. Have a seat.”   

You nodded and proceeded to sit in a black, leather chair in front of his desk. He sat down and handed you a file. “Loki has pushed his limits again, y/n.” You chuckled to yourself. “Doesn’t he always? I mean, he is the God of Mischief.” He looked at you sternly. “Are you siding with him, Miss y/l/n?” You cleared your throat and laughed nervously. “Uh, no sir.”

He raised his eyebrow and continued, “Well, we need you to be on duty with him again. You’ll need to be with him 24/7, until further notice. He got out last time, and he won’t get away this time. Is that understood?” You nodded. “Yes sir.” He smiled. “That’s all Miss y/l/n. You are dismissed.”  

You got up quickly from your chair and left his office. Getting into the elevator again, you read over the file. It was the basics, what you needed to do, when he gets fed, etc. But his crime was different. You read the description: Attempting to enter Earth after being suspended from entering. Why was he trying to come here?, you questioned.

The elevator ‘dinged’ on the floor with the jail on it. You adjusted your belt and smoothed out your hair. Even though Loki was a villain, you still found him slightly attractive. You approached the jail room with his isolated cell and saw two guards standing in front. “I’m here to take over, boys.” You said to them with a smile. The two guards exchange looks. “Name?”

“Agent y/l/n. I was sent here to watch prisoner.” The guard with beard spoke up. “On whose orders?” You turned to him, “Director Fury’s.” The guards nodded. You held out your wrist, which had a scanner on it. They scanned it, to make sure it was you, and nodded. They handed you the keys, a gun, and a few other items. “Be careful, Miss. He is dangerous.” You smiled. “Believe me, I know.”  

The other guard held the door open for you, as you walked in. You couldn’t believe how nervous you were It wasn’t like it was the first time seeing Loki. You walked up the steps that led to his cell. There he was sitting on the bed, reading. You tapped on the glass. He looked up from his book and smirked. “Just couldn’t get enough of me darling?” He asked you in his sinister tone.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, Loki. That’s why I’m here.” He chuckled in his chest. “Well, after our last adventure, I was sure you couldn’t resist me.” You walked right up to the glass. “Such a charmer Loki.” He walked up to the glass as well and crossed his arms. “Just for you darling.” He had that menacing look on his face, but it was also mixed with lust or love. You crossed your arms and walked away.

“So am I to assume that you are my babysitter?” He asked, following his eyes in your direction. You sat down on a bench and clapped. “And the prize goes to the God of Mischief. You guessed correctly son.” Loki chuckled.

“Was that sarcasm, darling?” You smirked. “Just for you, darling.”  You answered. He smiled and walked back to his bed. “So, what’s new and exciting with y/n?” He asked, fiddling with his armor. 

You shrugged. “Nothing exciting. I work alongside Fury now, that’s about it.” He smiled. “The one-eyed fellow? Ah yes. Him and I go back.” You chuckled. “Yea, after that stunt you pulled off in New York, I’m sure SHIELD got very friendly with you.” He shook his head. “Not a chance sweetheart. I left with my dear brother back to Asgard. There was where I was kept prisoner.” His jaw clenched. 

You fake pouted. “Awe, you poor thing. Having Daddy issues or something?” He got up and pounded his fist on the glass.

“Y/N!!!! Shut up! You don’t know how hard it is living under a shadow, when all the time you are glanced over like you’re a-a monster.” You heart did clench for him, but you had to stand your ground as an Agent of SHIELD. He lowered his fist and sighed. You got up from the bench and walked over to the cell. “Loki, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off.” He turned around and shrugged. “You’ll never understand. All you Midgardians are so pathetic with your feelings.” 

Now it was your turn to be mad. “Hey! Not all us ‘Midgardians’ are the same. I happen to care a whole lot about you Loki, more than you know. So before you go bashing all of us, open your eyes and look in front of you.” You huffed and walked back to the bench. 

He chuckled softly. “I didn’t know you felt that way darling. But it is I who apologize. You’ve done so much for me. Whenever I was invited to the Metal Man’s parties, being dragged by my annoying brother, it was you who made me feel like a person.” You met his stare and smiled. “Loki, that’s because I care about you.” He smiled. “I love you.” You murmured quietly. He blinked in disbelief. “What was that last part?” 

You nearly choked on your spit. “Um, nothing. I said nothing.” He squinted his eyes. The moment was ruined when an agent walked in. “Hey, y/n. I got you your breakfast.” He looked at his watch. “Well, brunch actually.” You both chuckled. Grabbing the tray, you smiled. “Thanks, Zach. You’re always looking out for me.” 

He blushed and winked. “Well that’s because you’re my best girl. Hey, you wanna maybe hang out sometime? When you’re off duty of course.” You froze and didn’t know what to say. Sure Zach was cute and very hot, but you had strong feelings for Loki. “Uh, sure Zach. I’d love that.” He grinned widely. “Awesome. You--Would you like some company?” 

During this whole thing, Loki was watching you and Zach like a ping-pong match. He couldn’t believe Zach just stole his woman from him, let alone you agreed to go out with him. He cleared his throat. “Eh-hem. I’d hate to intrude on this love session, but y/n and I were in the middle of a conversation.”

Zach stood up from the bench and walked up to Loki. “You, Prisoner. Shut up! I don’t care if you are a god or not. You don’t talk to me like that.” Loki walked right up to the glass and smirked. “Try me. Oh, please...do try.” Zach didn’t take the hint to stop, so he pulled out his gun. “You asked for it, pr---” A flash of green lit up the cell. You covered your eyes to protect them from the brightness, but quickly looked back over to the cell. Loki was no where to be seen. 

You walked carefully over to the cell. “Loki? Zach?“ You hear a groan and then something hard hit the floor. You ran around the other side of the cell and gasped. Zach lied lifeless on the ground and Loki was cleaning off his scepter. “LOKI?!” He smirked. “Oh, darling. Look what you made me do. Look’s like Zach just got himself killed.” He walked right up to you and snaked his arm around your waist. “Now where were we?”

He was about to lean in for a kiss, when you pushed him away. “Loki! You just killed a SHIELD Agent on my watch. Do you know what this means?” He looked at you and thought for a second. “Yes, darling. As a matter of fact I do. It means we need to get out of here.” And with that he grabbed your waist and teleported to who knows where.

You shut your eyes and quickly reopened them, figuring out where he brought you both to. Looking around, you recognized the familiar golden arches and pillars. You were in Asgard....better yet in Loki’s room. 

He was watching you take in the new scenery. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back to his chest. “I’ll have that date now.” Within seconds, you were joined as one with the God of Mischief...lost in his illusions. 

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A/N: Can I just say that Loki is actually my husband? Like yes, I am madly in love with Bucky...but Loki omg. And yes I HAD to use those gifs, cause I’m a geek. LIKE, REBLOG, AND LEAVE COMMENTS! Love y’all!

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