Not A Villain | Loki x Reader

Chapter Six

I sat in my cell, bored out of my mind. I tried to think of things to pass the time. I wasn't tired and I'd already screamed profanities at the camera.

The Avengers took turns in watching me. First it was the Falcon. He didn't tolerate my many questions. Second, it was Wanda Maximoff. I tried to be nice to her. I asked her how she liked being an Avenger. She said it was better than being a criminal.

Hawkeye only visited me once.

"You used a shield to protect me," he stated.

I nodded.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I wanted to help you guys," I said.

He'd just looked at me sceptically.

Now I was sitting cross legged on the floor, hoping something would crash through the roof and crush me. But something better happened.

There was a knock on the glass, and I looked up to see Loki holding a book.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite god," I said flirtatiously.

Loki chuckled.

"Yes, it is me, Dear," he said.

He opened the door and stepped through. I assumed that he could have just walked through the glass with magic or something, but he didn't. He walked over to me and gracefully sat cross legged on the ground in front of me. He extended the book out to me.

"Here. I have found this Midgardian literature interesting, and I hope you do as well," he said.

I reached for the book and looked at the cover. I gasped happily when I saw it was f/n.

"You like f/n too?" I asked excitedly.

He looked at me happily.

"You have already read it?" he asked.

"Of course, I have!" I exclaimed. "I've read it at least a million times."

Loki smiled at me genuinely. Not like he did yesterday as we played our little game, but a true smile. I placed the book next to me.

"You know what would be fun, though?" I asked.

"What would be fun?" he asked curiously.

"If we got to know each other," I said. "We can play twenty questions."

Loki quirked an eyebrow.

"Twenty questions?" he asked.

"Yeah. Basically, we ask each other one question at a time, and the other person has to answer," I explained. "Here, I'll go first. What's your favourite colour?"

"Green," he said. "What's your favourite colour?"

I sighed.

"You can't ask me the same question, otherwise I'll be coming up with them all," I said.

Loki pouted.

"But I want to know your favourite colour," he said.

"Fine. We can both answer the question," I said. "My favourite colour is f/c."

Loki smiled.

"Who do you work for?" he asked.

I frowned.

"Did they put you up to this?' I asked.

Loki nodded.

"So, you don't want to be my friend," I said sadly.

Loki sighed.

"Of course, I do, Darling. But I do have a job to do," he said lightly.

"Ask another question," I said. "One that we can both answer."

Loki thought for a moment.

"How old are you?" he asked.

I pursed my lips. I doubted that this information could hurt me.

"Eighteen," I replied. "How old are you?"

He looked at me shocked for a moment.

"1,054," he replied. "Isn't eighteen a little young to be a villain?"

I sighed dramatically.

"I'm not a villain. I'm actually a good guy. I saved a whole train full of people as well as a whole bank full of people," I ranted.

Loki smirked at me.

"Heroes do not know how to treat their allies, do they?" he said playfully.

I laughed lightly.

"No, they do not."

And so our game went on. We played twenty questions every day, and he brought me books to read. Sometimes we just read together. Sometimes, he would read to me. I would never admit it, but I found myself losing concentration on the book and just listening to the sound of Loki's voice.

I was fed three meals a day through a little slot in the glass. It was always boring. Bread and water. One day, Loki slipped me a slice of chocolate cake.

It had been a week since I had been brought to the Avengers tower when I realised that Loki was becoming a friend.

"What is your mother's name?" he asked.

I cleared my throat.

"I – um... I don't remember," I said quietly.

Loki looked at me sympathetically and grabbed my hand. I looked up at him, surprised. This was the first time he had ever touched me. Without thinking, I grabbed his hand and held on tight.