Multifandom Oneshots (II)

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

You grab a broom and start down the hall where the high-risk prisoners are kept. One doesn't belong.
Loki, the king's son. He's well-groomed, he's attractive. He doesn't look like much of a high-risk prisoner.
But, of course, he is. It was under Odin's orders that he was kept here.
"If you let me out, I could get this hall cleaned in two seconds." Loki says, coming to stand next to the wall of his cell.
You ignore him. You aren't supposed to fraternize with the prisoners, especially not Loki. He's dangerous.
"I'll take that as a no." He says.
You sweep.
"Who are you? What's your name?"
You sweep your way down the hall.
When you come back, he's sitting on the floor, reading.
"Have you read this?" He asks, holding it up. "I surely hope not. It's incredibly dull. Midgard has some good things, but I can attest that this isn't one of them." He keeps talking, knowing you won't answer.
"I think it's fantastic." You say the moment he takes a breath.
He pauses. "I was beginning to think they'd cut out your tongue." He says casually. "But, if you think it so good, why don't you read it to me?" He holds out the book.
"You aren't getting me to let you out."
"I'm not asking you to. I'll set it down and go to the back of the room."
"Why should I trust you?" You raise your eyebrows, almost laughing at the absurdity of the idea.
"Why should you trust me?" he says, dropping his gaze momentarily. "How many reasons must I give?"
"Three. Or if it's a good one, one." You say, knowing he couldn't.
"You should trust me because I want to see my mother."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I want to see my mother." He repeats.
"You mean she hasn't come to—"
"Not in person. I just want—Is that a good reason?"
"Put the book down and go to the back." You sigh. How could you not accept that?
He sets the book at the edge of the cell and retreats to the back corner.
You open the door and grab the book, closing it quickly. He's still there when it closes, only coming forward after it's locked. He sits down at the edge and looks at you.
You sit on the floor in front of his cell and start reading where he'd put a bookmark.
Before you know it, it's time to switch shifts.
"I have to go." You say, standing. "They probably won't let me open the door, so I'll bring it back tomorrow."
"Please. But you won't need to open the door, I want to listen to you." He smiles.
"Pardon?"
"I said I want to listen to you. I like it far better this way."
You want to dislike him, but you can't. So you smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, sir—"
"Please. Just Loki."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Loki."
He smiles and goes to sit in the chair.
You come back the next day to read. And the next. And then you bring a book of your own to read.
You don't hate it—you rather enjoy it, actually. You'd started to bring a chair—the floor gets hard after so long. Most days you talk before you read. He asks for news of Asgard, and of his mother. You tell him all you know, but you don't ever know much—you spend most of your time working or sleeping.
When Frigga dies, you take the day off. They'd told you not to tell Loki, and there was no way you could abide by that. Either way, you don't want to be the one to break his heart, and you most definitely don't want to see the aftermath.
But, of course, you would have to eventually. You couldn't quit your job—even if that was a feasible option, you wouldn't. You don't get out much—Loki's your only friend. Your only good friend, at least.
They didn't plan to tell him until the next day, so you take that day off too.
But, of course, you've never regretted a decision more in your life. What kind of friend are you?
You go in anyways, but Loki looks fine.
"Hasn't anyone told him?" You ask one of your coworkers.
"Yeah, they told him an hour ago."
"But he's..."
"I told you he's an ass." Your coworker shrugs and goes back to his book.
You walk up to Loki's cell. "Hey." You say.
He's sitting in his chair, his feet propped up on the table in front of him, a book open. He barely looks at you before looking back down. "You're late."
"Yeah."
"You weren't here yesterday."
"Yeah."
"I thought..." He pauses and looks at you. "Never mind."
"Loki?"
"What right have you to ask me a question?" His voice is cold, his words calculated. He hadn't used that tone with you since you'd first met him.
"I'm sorry." You say quietly.
"Yes. As you should be."
It's your turn to drop your gaze. "I know. But I'm here now." You look back up. "And you look like you're doing just fine." Your voice turns cold, and you have to remind yourself not to be an asshole.
But you were mad—livid. He'd convinced you that the rumors were wrong—that he was capable of kindness and love and compassion. It had all been a charade, and you'd fallen for it. Of course that put a lot of blame on you too, but it's easier to blame him.
The scene in the room changes suddenly. Loki's sitting against the back wall, looking completely and utterly broken. The furniture is overturned and broken. There's blood on him and the floor.
"Yes." He says quietly. "I'm fine."
You want desperately to get in there. It breaks your heart to see him like that. "I'm sorry." You say again.
"I don't hold anything against you. I'm sorry." Loki says. "Tell them that if Thor or Odin come that I don't want to see them."
"They can't really stop them if they want to come in. Sorry."
"Can you come in here?"
"I can't. You know that."
"Right." He nods.
Your coworker opens the door to the security room and starts down the hall.
"I'll leave. Just give me a minute." You say.
He opens the door to Loki's cell. "Five minutes."
"Thank you." You say, and go in.
"You owe me a dinner." He answers.
"Okay." You say, not really paying attention. You go to the back where Loki's sitting, his eyes following you as you sit down beside him.
"Why didn't you come?" He asks.
"I'm sorry."
"I needed you." His voice cracks.
"I'm sorry." Yours cracks too.
"Is it really true?" He looks at you, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Is it?"
"It is. I'm... I'm so sorry."
He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. "Well. I'm alone in the world."
"No you aren't."
He opens his eyes and looks at you. "Are you really so daft? Mother was all I had. Everybody else thinks me a monster."
"I don't."
"You will in time. Trust me on that one."
"What about Thor?"
"He dislikes me."
"Your father?"
"He's not my father." His voice is bitter, venomous.
"Fine, then. Choose to be alone. But when you realize your mistake, you'll realize there's nobody left. Do you want me to leave?"
"No. Please."
You lean back against the wall.
"Read me something." He says.
"I didn't bring a book."
"Tell me a story."
"I..."
"Please."
You think for a moment, then start to tell a story from your childhood.
He falls asleep after maybe five minutes. You really don't want him to wake up alone, but your coworker's standing outside, waiting. You move Loki's head off of your lap and put a pillow in its place.
"Are you staying?" Your coworker asks as he closes the cell door behind you.
"Yes, for a while."
"Lock the hall behind you."