Work Text:
** Trigger Warning :: sexual assault**
Fascination, that was how you perceived Loki. His persona was an exhilarating joy to be around. It excited you to the point where you thoroughly craved to know about him. Everyday you cherished those moments when he was in your presence, and even not. You would see him conversing with others, reading a book in solitude, his slim fingers wrapped around it in a protective manner, or practising magic with his mother, which was a pleasure in itself.
You were a favoured friend of Freyja, the goddess associated with love and beauty. She met you in a mental health clinic, and you were her doctor. Interested with her, she started introducing more -- not the reason as to why she was there in the first place. She revealed more of her background: the Norse gods, how they lived and their individual personas. First, you thought she was lying, that she needed to undergo further treatment, but when she showed you the majestic kingdoms, intricate rooms and idiosyncratic people, you were thrilled, but one special something had caught you by surprise.
You immediately took a loving for Asgard.
When you were given the chance to have a holiday, you spent most of it with Freyja. Unlike a client, she became your friend. You had no other real friends. Freyja was often off, busy with her own things. You always brought a book when this was the case, from horror to romance. You were thoroughly hooked on everything you read there. Sometimes, you hadn't even noticed that it seemed to slowly get dark, as you dove into the words. When she wasn't needed, you two frequently ate in nice places, played silly games, and even danced when you two were slightly tipsy. This sparked the eye of Loki, the god of mischief. Freyja said that he was to bring bad fortunes to those who wronged, which was only reasonable.
You had sat under a tree's refreshing shade, near where the warriors were training. You had discovered that men loved weaponry , battles and fights -- it seemed to be what most men thought about. Frankly, you couldn't care that they did. It was an interest that many loved, and you sort of liked that.
However, that does mean that there exists those who enjoy literature, and less laborious tasks. This was Loki.
Instantly, you clicked.
It began with why such a beautiful maiden even existed, to which you blushed. Not that you minded, but he began to inquire about your choice of books. That led to your favourite music, artists and further hobbies. It had unexpectedly made you reveal the fact that you came from Earth. You knew as soon as your conversation ended due to the lack of time you each had, that you must hang on to him. You couldn't lose him.
Soon, when he found you again under the cool shade of the tree, he joined you in an extremely comfortable silence. Sometimes, he would even strike up a conversation and that trailed to a complete euphoria. You noticed that he had a book in his hands as well. He told you he usually sat in that very spot, admiring the luscious view.
At times, when he was around, it was commonly hard to break away from Loki. That was the downside to coming Asgard: you knew you would have to leave sometime, meaning that contact with him was scarce. He was busy, and you were too. You had a job to get to, and he, a life to look forward too.
When you weren't reading or with Freyja, you would bring your Canon camera with you. The camera would save pictures you took of lovely people, the scenery, friends, rooms and silhouettes of individuals. Loki was your favourite to take photos of. His lean body suited any scenery, whether it be soft or empowering, it was an elation that couldn't be discussed. The problem was, he never noticed. Most of the time, he was talking with someone. But it was the anonymity, the unknowing that drove you. Every-time he used a simple hand gesture, and every-time it was captured, it was a glory. Once, he was lying down, half-awake, watching the trees dance steadily against each other with his hands solemnly on his stomach, and you caught a perfect snapshot. Even with a good camera, it couldn't identify the imperfections that made him perfect.
He had almost caught you in the act, when he saw your stature behind a building. Walking to you, Loki smiled, although when he had your eyes in an eternal abyss, you two stood there, unhurriedly spending time on each other's faces. The wrinkles, the lines, the curves, it was all admired.
It was a busy day at work. You had just been assigned a new client. They had gotten mad as she had a severe case. Sure, it was hard working with an almost incompatible patient, but you loved doing it because you loved the journey. You loved seeing them recover, seeing them heal. It was a process many psychologists took for granted.
Coming back, you were aching, hungry and just wanted to sit down and watch television, possibly even read that book you were willing to finish. You took your bag off your shoulders, gathered things like your phone out of there, and threw it across the room, fully aware that you would need to pick it up later. Changing out of your blouse, you threw on shorts and a baggy grey tee. It was about to be one of those days where you would just drink wine whilst binge-watching on a show.
Soon, you resulted in listening to music, and skimmed through your camera. Photos passed in an enjoyable succession. You caressed the edges of it like a reader would with a page. To many, they looked like mirror images, but there were certain details that weren't there in the last.
A tap on your shoulder made you escape the dimension in which you were one with the paper. Turning around, you jumped with a handsome grin. Your eyes glittered.
"Loki! Is it you?" You twisted your body to properly hug him, as he was behind the couch.
His smile brought warmth to your abode, "It's such a pleasure."
You let go, still close, "Come here, sit with me."
The two of you engaged in a thorough conversation. Apparently, a small yet important war was occurring up in Asgard, and he said that Freyja would be unable to take you up there for a while. Loki wanted to check if you were safe.
"Wait, if that were the case," You just noticed his arm around you, which pulled you closer, so much so, that you looked like a budding couple, "then how are you here?"
His hand twisted, creating a long green spark that shot up to your ceiling. Your eyes shot up to observe the emerald energy with its luminous aura.
You chuckled, letting out a sigh, "It's lovely . . . " Turning to him, you asked, "Teach me."
Loki took your arm, his head by the side of your face. His air was tickling the flesh of your neck. His hands followed you through simple practises of creating circles, spirals, bolts and towers. He helped you to create illusions of the outlines of skyscrapers in your very home, during which his head was touching yours. The curiosity existed; you sneaked glances at his smooth ivory complexion.
You created small cat ears and a mouth to exist on his face in a blue hue. He blushed, looking at how he looked in the disguise was dainty in a small mirror across the room. It was fantastic, and you loved every second of it.
When he was about to speak, to teach you another something, you loosely wrapped your hands around his neck. It was a sudden impulse to hold him to you. He stopped, surprised. You closed your eyes, wanting to stay in this moment. Loki then tilted his head towards the ground, looking at your small smile, his hands choosing to rest just below your breasts.
A tune broke the fluency, the smoothness of the short time destroyed by your ringtone. Walking over to your phone, you saw that it was your mother calling, "Mother?"
"Is anyone in the room with you?"
You turned to see Loki, looking at your with endearment, "Yeah. But it should be fine. What's up?"
"You know how I was crying last night, although I never told you why?"
Loki told you to take your time. He sat on the furniture, pulling a book out of thin air. It plopped on his lap, and he began to read, but not without the fact that he still took note of you.
She told you that yesterday, your father called your grandmother. Your heart struck a cold clench. It pumped blood faster and filled your body with hormones that would prepare you to run. He said that he was sorry. Sorry for what strenuous actions towards your ruined family.
She called to say that your sexuality was false. That your undying want for attention was only there to mask the fact that you were utterly insane, that it wasn't valid for what she cared. She started fighting about something she knew was personal to you. Your own mother called a fake liar, one who only wanted to make your father look like a scum. She called you a bitch, a slut for wanting to destroy his reputation. All of this, over one word.
Seeing you distressed made Loki's heart wilt. You always saw you as a successful, powerful woman. He stood in front of you, and hugged your almost-limp body. He wiped your tears away with the back of his hand whilst gliding across your jawline.
"Mum -- "
"You stop, you disgusting pig. You are not allowed to see me. Forget me even. I do not care about you anymore and you stupid sexuality. It's false. You're just pure cancer."
"Mum! PLEASE!"
"Who do you think you are? I am ashamed to be your mother. You've become a living monster. I never accepted you: I always thought you were faking it. This just gives me more proof you're a bitch."
"This is over just one word! Are you even thinking, Mum?!" Your lip trembled as tears began to pool an unhealthy amount, turning your eyes a crimson shade.
"Don't call me mother! I am not. You don't deserve me. Your father and I are remarrying in March. I can't believe I divorced him." The beating of your heart bet against your ribs. It wanted to tear apart and rot with mould creating cavities in it. You couldn't take it anymore, and started to squeal and sob, crushing down to the floor with your hand to your head.
"STOP!"
"Even if he did do that, I'm glad he did. You need it."
You screamed, then started to weep terribly. You started to almost tear your hear out.
She hung up.
There was a tear in your heart. It was demolished.
"Loki . . . I'm sorry you had to see this. I . . . " You gasped as your sobs burdened you with hiccups.
"It's okay." He crouched down to your level, and brought his hand to your chin and tucked his hand to the back of your hair and gave it a reassuring tug. You enveloped him, crying against his clothing. He was wearing a black polo, and somehow it got darker with your tears marking it. Loki's fingers massaged your back, rubbing your spine. He tightened his grip, as you saw him place a small expression of worry.
"This is all just perplexing. For you and me. You need an explanation, I think."
"You needn't tell me, (Y/N). Only if you want to."
Pulling away, you gazed at him. He had sincerity written all over his face.
He got up, and handed his assistance to you. Your fingers rubbed in an attempt to release nervous tension.
"Back five years ago, my parents were in the middle of a horrendous divorce. My sister and I were at my father's place. It was nice, but not as nice as being with my mother." You closed your eyes as you remembered she told you not to refer her as your mum anymore, "or rather, Sarah. It was after school. We were playing outside on the front yard. My sister, Jennifer, had her bag out the front. I was riding my scooter up and down the road.
"Jennifer checked to see if any of our family members were watching us. They weren't. With a grab of her bag, she made a run for it. Down the street she went, her bag almost flying off her shoulders. She looked at me, at the end of the road, and motioned for me to come -- to run away. Jen was going to run to the train station and catch a train back home. I said no, because I didn't know of the situation. It was complex.
"As they noticed she was gone, they started searching for her. My uncle and father hurriedly asked me where she was. I was a good liar: I told them I didn't know." You flinched and turned your head away. You couldn't look at him. It was disgraceful. Loki, being a good listener and observer, new how hard it could be to explain the next part.
"Take your time. I understand."
You sighed, "He dragged me up the stairs. He threw me onto the bed. My father started to unbutton my school skirt -- " You flinched at the recalling of the memory. The feelings you had had never escaped, until then, "Violently slapping me, he tugged off my dress, buttons flying away. With a knife, he threatened me without speech. He was to get to my bra, but he was slow. My father was unaware of the position of the knife as he thrashed me around, so the knife cut deep into my skin. I -- " A breath was took from Loki, "couldn't cry out, for he covered my mouth with a cloth. Luckily, my uncle came up the stairs, and upon hearing his footsteps, he backed away, leaving me bleeding and almost shirtless."
Loki wrapped you with his slender arms once more. It was refreshing to let it all out.
"Not long after, I had came out as pansexual. It mean's potential attraction to all genders. Most of my friends were accepting, unlike my mother then, who just called me a lair. She said it was all fake. She said that it was all for the sake of my craving for attention. Most of all, she said that if that even did occur, that it was right. I couldn't hold it in. I let you see me weak. I'm sorry. Leave if you want. Abandon me, because maybe she's right. Maybe, I did deserve it." You bawled.
"You," He looked down at you, pulling a lonesome strand out of your face. Loki tilted your head up, as he stepped even closer to you. Your head was centimetres of his chest, "are beautiful. Your sexuality is valid. It is real. And I believe you. You wouldn't lie, because out of all the times we've been together, not a single time have you been unfaithful to me.
"Not alone, you are. You don't deserve your mother, or father, you deserve more. You deserve all of the heavens. I have seen you. You act with the most of purity anyone could posses. Listen to me, (Y/N). I want you to know, that I will hold you closer than anyone else, that I will secure you protection against those dumb fools. They're stupid for not seeing what I see: an outstanding woman who is strong, who isn't weak, who is not a liar, a slut or a bitch."
The space between you became non-existent, as he met your lips. It tasted like fresh tears. He parted your lips, begging to discover the crevices of your mouth. A moan broke free, when Loki lightly pulled on your hair. You slowly ran your fingers through his locks, massaging his scalp. Loki's hands had settled on your waist.
All your problems vanished into thin air.