Loki Laufeyson Oneshots and Imagines

tricksters to lovers: *part 1* (loki x male demigod reader)

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Whoever gave gods the right to interfere with human affairs deserves the death penalty.

Of course, you're not human. You were born a demigod, son of Hades. Maybe the gods just hate you because Hades isn't exactly revered on Mount Olympus. Maybe the Fates are feeling particularly senile today. Whatever the reason, you have absolutely no explanation for why Loki, the Norse God of Mischief, is standing here with a knife to your throat.

The first thing you noticed about Loki was that he radiated cockiness. The way he stood tall, shoulders back, stomach in and chest puffed like some kind of greasy, six-foot-four bird. You hated him.

"I have a sword and I'm not afraid to use it," you warned him, eyeing the celestial bronze sword sheathed on your belt.

"So do I," he replied coolly, looking down with a smirk. "Though many would deem it inappropriate if I used it now."

Heat rose to your face. "What do you want with me?"

"Your cooperation."

The devil smelled like sandalwood and rose, both a masculine and a feminine scent. His hair, the color of midnight, was slicked back and hung in loose curls just above his shoulders. He had angular features, snowy white skin, and a jawline whose sharpness competed with that of your sword.

He was hot. You were terrified of him.

"Release me," you ordered.

"How do I know you won't run away from me?"

You shrugged, feeling the blade of the knife press against your trachea. "Guess you'll just have to trust me."

He thought about this and reluctantly released you, though the intensity of his stare rooted you to the ground. His eyes glittered like the surface of the ocean exposed to the sun.

"I am Loki, God of —"

"— mischief, yeah I know," you interrupted, flexing your hands. "The mortals have a lot to say about you."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Mortals, hm? Are you not one of their kind?"

"I'm a demigod," you said, gesturing to yourself. "My dad's Hades, God of the —"

"— Underworld," he interrupted, copying you. "Yes, the Asgardian library has much to say about the Greek Pantheon."

You were impressed. Most of the time, the gods didn't like to acknowledge the fact that there were other deities belonging to different cultures. Your dad has seen people from all different cultures and religions in his realm and firmly believed in the existence and validity of other gods.

But Loki... you thought that if he were a demigod, he'd be a child of Athena. The tone with which he spoke conveyed that he was rather smart, and he had a look about him that you'd seen on plenty of Athena kids during your travels: a look as if they knew something you didn't. He proved himself to be knowledgeable about Greek culture, which certainly saved you a long lecture about the existence of the Greek gods.

"You know," you started bitterly, "I was in the middle of something. What do you want?"

He scoffed. "Oh, yes. The work of a demigod is truly onerous. What is it that you were doing? Dancing?"

"I was practicing swordfighting techniques you absolute —"

"Now, now," he said, holding his hands up. You could see they were quite large with long, nimble fingers, but void of any callouses. He must not be much of a fighter. Probably just sat in his palace all day and pestered all the chambermaids to give him snacks on a silver platter. "You don't want to anger me. I can obliterate you to dust with a mere snap of my fingers."