Loki Laufeyson Oneshots and Imagines

after midnight (oneshot)

A/N: okay so this is another re-upload from my old tumblr; most of my loki fics are going to be. this oneshot is inspired by the song "After Midnight" by Dorothy. go check it out, it's a b o p

***

The motorcycle hums exuberantly under your legs, the chilling night air stroking your face with the touch of a mother comforting her child. Both your hands are raised high in the air, feeling the wind sift between your fingers like cold, fine sand.

There aren't many occasions where you can be out this late, not working, not fighting, just living. The moonlight makes the metal on the motorcycle glisten ethereally, as if it were a jewel carved from the night itself. The engine guns with a jolt, and you quickly drop your hands from the sky, desperately searching for something to hold on to.

Your arms find rough leather and a warm torso, and without thinking, you wrap your arms around it, pressing your chest against the leather.

A low chuckle hums with the bike as the engine buzzes loudly. The silhouettes of trees and buildings blur past you as you speed through the streets, leaving everything behind.

The person you're holding onto eases on the controls a bit, slowing down so you can catch your breath, but you miss the thrill of the reckless night wind on your face.

They glide along easily down the street, and they turn their head, uncovered by a helmet, and you see a glint of mischief in their eyes, a hint of a smile on their lips—

THUMP.

You jolt awake, startled from the dream, and bump your head on the headboard of your bed. You hold a hand to your head, waiting for the throbbing to cease, and try to recognize your surroundings. You're still in your room, but everything is blurry, eyes still cloudy with peaceful sleep. But more importantly, everything is still. Nothing susceptible to making a noise.

THUMP.

There it is again, and a flash of something green pokes through the curtains guarding your window. The noise isn't harsh and sharp like a rock. More soft, as if someone were throwing snowballs against the glass.

But it's the middle of July, no snow in sight.

Hastily, you peel back the curtain and peer out the window at the large expanse of grass before you. When you were finally initiated as an Avenger, Stark was kind enough to give you a room with a beautiful view of the courtyard. On slow mornings, usually weekends, you would wake up extra early just to see the magnificent array of colors painting the sky as the sun rose over the horizon. But the sky is a peaceful, inky black now, littered with nearly microscopic white dots that fade in and out of sight when you stare at them too long.

All was quiet and still, nothing out of the ordinary. You think about leaving the window and slipping back into bed, hopefully to resume back to the exciting dream you were having. But just as the thought crosses your mind, a soft glowing ball of light, forest green, is thrown against your window, creating the thump that you had heard. It's a beautiful creation, simple but pulsing with energy that you can almost feel tingling through your fingers against the glass. Yet as majestic as the orb looks, hovering in midair, just inches before the glass, you carefully open the window to see where on earth it had come from. The orb drops into your hands, humming slightly with energy and casting a golden green glow onto your hands and face.

And then you see him, bathed in darkness, standing proudly below your window on the grass. His pale face is like delicate porcelain in the moonlight, chiseled and carved with a wicked smile that reaches his eyes, which the moon casts into shadow onto his face. Tiny pits of darkness.