IMAGINES: LOKI x READER

Her risky game

She loved testing his patience. She enjoyed making him jealous. The fire that ignited in his eyes whenever he caught her flirting with another man—whether it was a warrior of Asgard, a young lad, or an ordinary Midgardian—was unforgettable, irresistible.

She craved him, her Loki. His jealousy, his madness, his love. She thrived on his anger. Every cigarette, the bitter taste of smoke, and his wild eyes revealing every emotion brought her immense pleasure. You could call her a vixen. A fool. Or a cruel manipulator of feelings. She didn't care. Only Loki mattered—his feelings, his jealousy, his reactions, and those blue eyes in which she could lose herself.

It all stemmed from their secret relationship. She loved him deeply, irresistibly. But Loki refused, even feared, to admit his feelings for her publicly. She wasn't the right kind of woman—not proper, too bold, too defiant. Someone society looked down upon.

She wondered: why had Loki suddenly started caring about what other people thought? Why with her, of all people?

She didn't care about public opinion, just as he once hadn't. She had reached the peak of her power—strong, independent, beautiful. A fierce and stunning Goddess, yet willful and uncompromising. Society both desired and scorned her—for her honesty, her worldview, and the daring spark in her eyes. And Loki was one of them. He hid her from everyone, wounding her deeply each time. She loved him for his genuine feelings, his admiring smile, the tenderness in his rough hands. And she hated him for his fear, his cowardice, and his need to conform to others' opinions. When had he become like this? Why with her?

She dreamed of him—tall, broad-shouldered, impossibly alluring, and untouchable. She wanted to be with him, to be happy. For Loki to finally admit he belonged to her, and she to him. That they were together, now and forever, despite everything and everyone. And so she played. Played with him, with his feelings, and with his jealousy.

But tonight, she had gone too far. Her games, her love, her hurt had pushed the boundaries. After the feast, only a few Asgardians and one warrior—Kaen—remained in the grand hall.

A light flirtation with Kaen, a charming smile, and a fleeting glance toward Loki as he left the room. She wanted to see his jealousy; she needed it like the first snow in December or the birdsong in spring. She had every intention of leaving the hall gracefully, perhaps touching Kaen's shoulder lightly, winking flirtatiously, and vanishing to meet an enraged Loki in private. There, he would claim her lips with a possessive kiss, pin her against the wall, and kiss every inch of her willing body until quiet moans escaped her lips. But this time, Kaen had other plans.

Before she could step away, strong male arms wrapped around her waist, spinning her to face him abruptly.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded loudly, meeting Kaen's dark eyes.

"Exactly what we both want," he replied. "You think I didn't pick up on your signals?"

"Let go," she hissed, struggling against his firm grip.

"Stop playing coy." Kaen tightened his hold. "We're going to my chambers now, and I'll teach you to behave."

"Are you out of your mind?" she gasped. "Let me go, I said."

But Kaen didn't listen. Smirking unpleasantly, he leaned in as if to kiss her crimson lips. Yet he never got the chance. A storm named Loki Laufeyson arrived, shoving Kaen away.

"She said let go," Loki growled, punching Kaen in the jaw so hard that the man collapsed to the floor.

People around them froze in shock, rushing to summon the guards.

"Loki," she called softly.

He turned to her. His blue eyes had turned black with flickers of green magic. In them burned a fire of emotions—rage, sorrow, hurt, tenderness, and love.

"What are you doing?" she asked, grabbing his hand, desperate to get him out of the hall before Odin and Frigga could intervene.

But Loki didn't move or reply, forcing her to glance back at him in confusion. There was something in his gaze she had never seen before. In the next instant, he closed the distance between them, pulling her into his warm embrace and kissing her passionately.

In front of everyone, he held her close, stroking her back and hair, kissing her with unrestrained intensity.

"And what does this mean?" she asked softly when the kiss ended and the astonished gasps around them faded.

"It means I'm done hiding," Loki rasped, pressing his forehead to hers. "You're mine, and I'm yours. You won. I love you, and I won't let go or share you with anyone. I'll be with you despite everything, despite everyone's opinions, because they don't matter. Nothing in this world matters to me but you."

She loved testing his patience. She enjoyed making him jealous. She wanted to be with him so that everyone would know they belonged to each other. And she had pushed too far. The game was over. She had won. Now everything would be different. Now, they would love openly, defying judgment and leaving the shadows behind.