1 - 20 of 153 Works by Lovethyenemy
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Just a sad drabble I mostly wrote in the shower
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Reader wants an eggnog latte, in 2025. Sylvie comes to her rescue, but it awakens something unexpected. No wait, let's be very real, it was entirely expected.
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- Part 12 of Sylvie/Reader (mostly) Seasonal Shenanigans
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Random, questionably canon compliant Stormpilot hurt/comfort
**now with emotional dry humping** -
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Sometimes they don’t talk.
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Be careful what you wish for, Sylvie can remember hearing, once, because you just might get it.
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Sylvie’s hands were built for violence.
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Sylvie doesn't miss Loki anymore. But she does need to tell him how he's ruined her life.
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Elizabeth ponders her name over the years, until the point someone got it just right.
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Sylvie does wonder, in the days that follow, exactly how deep Loki’s apparent penchant for sharp objects goes. It’s not surprising at all, Sylvie thinks, that any Loki, really, would have such a reaction.
But she does wonder just how far she can push it. -
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"So I think I know where Loki is."
Sylvie and Mobius never really worked out; something was always missing. Someone, to be precise.
Sylvie has an idea, and drags Mobius along with her to the Void. What they find triggers a very intense and unusual (and smutty, let's just be real) series of events.
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PLEASE READ BEGINNING NOTE. This is NOT a part of my existing series.
Your infatuation with Sylvie has most definitely gotten out of hand, and you are absolutely going to burn for eternity over it.
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An entirely overblown response to the textsfromthetva meme featuring the text "That's how I like my men: traumatized and crying"
First it got horny, then it got sappy
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After falling asleep on your couch with Sylvie on Christmas Eve, you wind up in bed in your undies together, which just feels… nice.
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The bad days are the days she can't not think about Loki, no matter what she does.
It's a bad day, and Sylvie can't help the dark fantasy her mind crafts without her conscious input.
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Sylvie can’t enter your dreams to have freaky metaphysical kinky sex with you, right?
…right?
Or, “ I mean, if Sylvie isn't transforming into some metaphysical dream serpent to infiltrate your vagina, are you even living”
Or, “I wasn't planning for tentacle-adjacent cervix play but here we are”
**now with raspberry syrup**
Series
- Part 11 of Sylvie/Reader (mostly) Seasonal Shenanigans
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It's easy to forget how tall Loki is, when he's curled against her like this– when he's Sylvie's little boy.
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A small snippet of what Loki and Mobius were up to while you and Sylvie were making out on your couch Christmas eve :)
Series
- Part 10 of Sylvie/Reader (mostly) Seasonal Shenanigans
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It's lonely at the end of time.
…And that's just it.
The one timeline he does keep a close eye on, the one, in fact, that he keeps wrapped around his wrist at all times now, is maybe because of that.
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The first time it happens, she surprises herself with how sheepish she feels.
She's sitting with his feelings—today, a warm, enveloping kind of presence, and she soaks it in as best she can—when she slips.
She's done her best not to let on to him, to compartmentalize and keep those feelings to herself, but really, she should have known it wouldn't work forever.
Her want for him bleeds through. It flows along the branches that connect them, that surround him, and now he feels it, too. -
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Sylvie spends Christmas Eve with you, and she's brought mistletoe.
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