When a God Falls (LokixFemaleReader) [COMPLETED]

4

Don't mind me, just in pain because Loki is fictional, thousands of years old, hates mortals (or at least is annoyed by them/us), and is fricken dead/wandering through space and Tom Hiddleston is way too old (legally) for a 15/16 y/o such as myself plus he doesn't know I exist and even if he did he'd never love me because I'm not that ugly but by god am a piece of shit in human form and I'm just that annoying *cries* it hurts :( 

Anyway that's enough of my bullshit let's get back to the story. 

I awake the next morning to Loki shaking my shoulder and saying my name. I turn over sleepily and bat at the air where I think he is. Not surprisingly, I don't come into contact with anything. 

"(Y/N)!" He's incessant and won't let me go back to sleep. With a sigh, I sit up and ask what the matter is. 

"Are your dogs always this obnoxiously loud in the morning?" He asks, sounding mildly annoyed.

"God forbid your highness would ever miss out on his beauty sleep," I grumble.

"For the record," he snaps back, "I am a Prince and should be addressed as such. I'm glad to see you're using my correct title."

"Your... your correct title?" I'm speechless with disbelief. I sit there, staring at his smug face across my bed, not quite able to comprehend what he just said. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I'm Loki, of Asgard. I'm destined to rule."

"Whose house are you standing in right now? And isn't Thor gonna be king, not you? Shit, you've got some things to work out." I get up, going into the bathroom attached to my bedroom and grabbing a pile of clothes on the way.

"If it really bothers you that much," I say when I come out, "I'll just show you how to feed them."

He follows me out to the back of the church where I constructed a sheltered and heated/cooled area for the dogs to sleep. We find them jumping on the already filthy Perspex door and whining like there's no tomorrow, and as soon as I open the door we're greeted with sloppy kisses and warm little paws all over us.

I show Loki the necessary amount for both Walter and Willow, as they're different weights and require different nutrition to suit their respective breeds. After they've finished their dry food we give them each a bone from the mini-fridge I use for their stuff and leave them happily crunching away in the yard outside.

We head inside to get breakfast, the frost on the grass of the churchyard crackling under our feet. Mine are numb, as I forgot to get shoes before coming out here. I look down at Loki's feet, ordinary feet, blue-ish in the cold and speed up my pace. My feet are really aching.

I make toast again, then put on a pot of coffee. We don't really talk all through breakfast, since I'm still mad at him and he clearly doesn't exactly love me.

"(Y/N)," he says as I'm putting away the toaster, "I meant no offense to you by what I said earlier."

"Yeah?"

"I am sorry if I've insulted you in any way, really."

I shut the cupboard door, standing up from behind the bench where I was crouched to put away the toaster. "On Earth," I say evenly, "when someone gives you food you say thanks. When someone lets you stay in their house, you say thanks. You don't really tell them to call "your highness" or anything like that, it's rude."

He nods, not meeting my eyes.