Marvel Oneshots (X Reader)

Loki - Lies and Intrigue

Loki couldn't deny it. He was watching you.

Every time you were in the same room, his eyes were drawn to you as if you were a magnetic field and his eyes were magnets. Often times it would be subconscious—he would be deep in thought and when he snapped back into the present his vision would be fixed on you.

He could sense each time you entered a room and he knew your patterns and quirks like the back of his hand. You smiled when you were uncomfortable. You'd twist your rings whenever you were anxious. Compliments made you awkward because you didn't know how to respond to them. You hated raised voices and sudden movements—each time you would flinch or shrink away like a flighty doe.

People had hurt you. Hydra had hurt you, and a curl of white, hot anger twisted within him whenever he thought of them. He wanted to tear them apart—all the ones who had hurt, or helped hurt you—until there was nothing left of them but bloody piles of gore. The urge to protect you was strongly embedded within him.

It was ridiculous.

He was a god. Yet here he was, finding interest in some mere mortal?!

He was meant to be strong and cruel—not weak like his brother, a god who fell for mortals! They were beneath him; merely ants under his boot. Yet everyday he would search for you. If you weren't there he would miss your presence. Whenever you had a breakdown he felt the urge to comfort you—something he had to force himself not to do. He couldn't have the others seeing him—a cold-blooded killer—calming your terrors and fear. There was no way they would let him near you anyway.

If Loki hadn't been paying such close attention to you, he wouldn't have noticed your lies.

They were subtle and expertly woven. Even he, the God of Lies, had trouble spotting them. Yet soon enough, he began to notice your tiny, hidden tells—and through them, the lies you spoke as earnestly as if they were truths. He could see them in the miniscule twitch of your lips, and the way your eyes would flick down after the person had looked away.

At first, he'd dismissed the signs as anxiety—you had been rescued from Hydra after being forced through numerous traumatising ordeals. You were skittish and shy. Yet now, six weeks later, he could see the habits for what they really were: lies.

It fascinated him.

He wanted to know what it was that you were hiding. Whatever secrets you held, he had to know. Never before had he met a mortal that intrigued him so and could lie as skilfully as you could.

His opportunity arose soon enough. The team had some lead on Hydra—he didn't really care about the affairs of mortals enough to concern himself with their squabbles—but it meant the whole team would be out. They were leaving him and you here in the Tower alone.

Thor had spoken to Loki already—lecturing him on how this was a chance for Loki to prove himself to be trustworthy. He'd been imprisoned at this snivelling Tower for four months already as penance for his Midgardian attack. Measures had been implemented to stop him from leaving, but that hadn't comforted the Avengers enough to leave him unsupervised. This was a first.

Soon they were gone and the Tower was silent.

Loki paced through the halls restlessly. He stopped outside your room, the plain white door firmly closed. He took a breath, a strange feeling dancing inside of him. What was this, anxiety? He scoffed. Gods did not get anxious!

He rapped his knuckles on the door twice and waited. The two of you had never talked before, and he'd always kept his distance. There was a good chance you would ignore him—but he could always wait for you to leave your room for something or other. Mortals needed food, after all.