I hardly had it in me to realize what had just happened, but the moment I saw the god sitting there, the very same man who'd been on the news for leading a massacre against New York, I stumbled back a step and froze, my hand unconsciously resting on where my gun sat on my hip.

Loki hardly even reacted, only sparing me a glazed look from where he sat, before resuming his task on focusing his intense eyes the wall.

I tried to take note of my surroundings without removing my eyes from the villain who sat only a few feet of me in a plush brown armchair, and I whipped my head around quickly to see that the only other thing to furnish the room was a small bed on the wall behind me.

Satisfied that nothing else in the room will surprise me, I abruptly turned back to the easily most concerning thing in the room.

Loki was still fixated on the wall, though I could practically feel the intensity of his attention on me. I took these blissful moments of indifference from him to take him in, trying to absorb as many details as possible. His hair was slicked back neatly with gel, and his long black locks fell past his shoulders in midnight-like sweeps. His medieval-like green and black colored clothing reminded me a lot of Thor's, well, that made sense, since they were both from the same world.

While I could see what Ace was saying, the man was indeed hot as hell, he was fucking terrifying. There was this ominous energy settled in the air around him, and I could practically see the dark cloud covering the top of his raven-black hair like a halo. And while the idea was so outlandish I would at any other time laugh in its face, the fact that this man wasn't from this world made perfect sense when you studied him for only a second.

Jesus Christ that was hard to grasp. This man was from a different planet, literally.

And while he was sitting there, clearly an imagine of what I would imagine a super villain to look like, he looked surprisingly- normal.
His expression was a well constructed mask of nonchalance, like he was only contemplating something normal when he could very well be plotting world domination, or mass murder. Or, more currently, my murder.

I hated people who could hide their emotions well and knew how to control their tells, it made my life, both professionally and otherwise, a lot harder.

Fucking psychopaths.

"If you're only going to stare at me like the mindless animal you are, I suggest you do it from outside the room, mortal."

I jolted in surprise when Loki had spoken, not expecting him to make the first move of conversation. And while I had been thinking of all the things that were terrifying about this man, that wasn't one of them. Mortal, that insult was almost cartoonish.

I let out a muffled laugh that I tried to stifle with the back of my hand, but humor tugging my vocal cords into action. Loki's pale lips tugged into an aggravated snarl, and I forced myself to swallow the amusement down my throat. This was a serious situation, this man was dangerous and I was only egging him on.

The light bulb practically went off in my head- how bad an idea was that? People show most emotion when they lash out. Maybe it'll be easier to read him than I thought.

"What is so funny to you, you mewling quim." Loki snapped, his green eyes seeming to sharpen in focus on me. My lips pressed into a thin line, digust washing over my face.

"Did you just call me a quim? That's fucking disgusting," I replied, kind of disappointed in him, I mean, the insult was just that, insulting, but it was largely uncreative. My fear of him began to ebb away, and I began watching him keenly, waiting for his first show of honest emotion so I could pounce on it.

"The presence of you in this room disgusts me, as does your-"

Loki rambled on, firing some actually creative insults at me, but I just allowed my self to fade out, instead watching his tells carefully to try to discern something about him. I noticed the posture in which he held himself while he sat, it was very... proper. It had been when I entered, even with no one in the room. He never let his chin drop, and held his head as if he was above every other object in the room.

Royalty, right. Rich people piss me off.

"Are you listening to me?" Snapped the god, and my eyes flitted to his face again, where fury was clear on his expression. It was the type of fury he only allowed me to see so that I would know I invoked his rage, and anyone would be terrified to have caused a god's rage. A scare tactic that would work on anyone else.

Anyone else who hadn't arrested dozens of self righteous bastards like him.

"No," I said simply.

Loki's nostrils flared in anger, eyes brightening with fury as his face twisted into a dangerous glare that actually sent cold shivers down my spine.

"I don't know who you think you are, you pathetic worm, but it would do you well to mind how you speak to those above you." Loki seethed dangerously, his words darkening with a black fury that actually made me almost recoil in fear.

That is- if he hadn't have just given me exactly what I wanted.

The tense way in which I held myself loosened immediately, and a devilish smile pulled at my lips immediately, and Loki could probably sense the glee practically pooling out of me, because I saw the sudden hesitation in his eyes from across the room where he stood.

"Oh, okay. I get it." I drawled, my eyes drinking in this new emotion he showed me tauntingly, while Loki bared threatening teeth at me, though his menacing snarl only grew then to hide the confusion in his eyes.

"That's why you've assumed this.." I paused a moment, waving my hands toward him to exaggerate my point. "supervillian character. You've got an inferiority complex!" I said, practically singing inferiority complex to piss him off.

Though Loki seemed obviously skilled at hiding his emotions, I could see the slight shade of red coloring his cheeks in anger, the only proof that he even heard what I said really.

"You shove your superiority down everyone's throats here on Earth because you feel so desperately inferior altogether. Especially with your hunk of a brother Thor. Motherfucking Thor."

When he said nothing, and I didn't appear to be getting to him, I continued.

"Frankly, I don't blame you. That man is like a Viking had a baby with, well- Jesus! He's literally perfection with muscles,"

Now, I was getting to Loki. I could see the vein popping in the corner of his forehead as his jaw pulsed with tension, and fury oozed from him like fucking cheese. His hatred for his brother burned so vibrantly in the green dots of his eyes, and I half expected him to burst into flames at that very moment. That, or murder me. It seemed both was very likely to happen.

"And you- well, you're a-" Loki, reading the pathetic tone in my voice interrupted me abruptly.

"If you value you're pathetic, meaningless life, I'd advise you not finish that thought."

"...pussy." I finished simply, as if he never even interrupted me.

Loki roared in anger, lashing toward me so quickly I hardly had time to react.

I took a leaping step back away from him, drawing my gun and aiming at him, and Loki stopped dead in his tracks, only a foot away from me as he stared at the black body of my pistol.

His shoulders rose and fell quickly and exaggeratedly as he took deep, ragged breaths, the wild anger in his eyes not done justice by any words used to describe it, but his eyes stayed glued to my gun. His gaze made me wonder if he had a tangle with a firearm before that left unpleasant memory.

"I don't think so, douchebag. Step back."

Loki didn't move, just continued to stare at the gun with an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Did I fucking stutter? Step-fucking-back!"

Loki's muscles didn't so far as twitch as the anger melted from his eyes, pooling from his face slowly until a sneer began to grow on Loki's lips. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, before waving the gun a little at him, trying to remind him the situation.

"Do not test me, I will blow a fucking hole in your fucking head-"

I stopped talking as I followed Loki's gaze, and I realized- he wasn't looking at the gun. He was looking at the twin tattoos circling each of my wrists like bracelets. I realized that when I raised the gun, the sleeves on my jacket had pulled back to unveil them. The tattoos were nothing specail, just two circles of Chinese symbols that had no meaning to me, it was what they covered up that mattered.

The little bracelets of black ink did virtually nothing to cover the red, raised skin of my ligature scars.

"Oh I see, someone tied you up, didn't they?" Loki said simply, though the evil look in his emerald eye make me put my weight on my back foot, itching to back away from him but not letting him have the satisfaction.

"What did they use? Rope? Tape? Wire?"

The use of the word wire made my breath catch, and Jesus Christ how do I get my hands to stop fucking shaking.

Loki saw my change in demeanor when he said wire, and damn it how did he see through me? Because I could feel his eyes boring into my soul.

"Was it so tight you couldn't feel your hands?"

He took a step forward, and damn myself to hell for shrinking away from him.

"Did your fingertips turn purple after a moment? Was there blood drawn from your wrists? I bet there had to have been, those scars are far to gruesome for there not to be,"

I fought the memory of all of those things out of my mind with all my might, tried to wrestle the impending torture of the memory from ever setting foot in the thresh hold of my head, but it so effortlessly won as agonizing images of blood blossoming from my skin tore into my sanity.

Loki took a comfortable step forward as I trembled, the evil, devilish grin never once fleeting as the barrel of my gun dug into his chest and I didn't take any other retreating step away, but good lord I wanted to.

"Is the purpose of that badge you wear so boldly on your hip to keep the one bad guy away?" Loki taunted, daring me with his eyes, his gaze, and I hardly held onto it as my bottom lip quivered in sync with the rest of my shaking body. And Jesus fucking Christ, how did he do that? How could he see that so easily?  Damn it, Elle, stop fucking shaking!

"Because you're afraid they're gonna come back, and bind you up like the mangey mutt you are again-" Loki accused gutterally, his voice raising until he was practically yelling in my face. A choked off noise spilled from my lips as I dropped my gun to his leg and began to squeeze the trigger, but Loki leaped out of the way of the barrel, knocking the gun from my hands as the loud, cracking gunshot split through the air.

I cried out as my means of protection fell from my hands and clattered on the floor, and my eyes and senses sharpened with fear, and I swallowed my earlier emotions as Loki quickly lunged for me, pressing a single hand to the front of my throat.

But before he could begin to squeeze and possibly kill me, I straightened my shoulders, made eye contact and shakily told him-

"Stop."

He did, the cold flesh of his hand poised flush against the front of my neck. I saw something unnameable flash through his eyes, like a battle against my command that he clearly was losing.

"Drop your hand." My command was stronger this time, not as tainted with my earlier emotion that I had finally begun to triumpth over.

He did so again, dropping his hand to his side while his face twisted in anger and confusion. Yeah, guess what buddy, you're not the only fucking freak in the fucking room.

"Go sit down in the chair."

Loki swiftly turned around, there was no stall in his stride at all as he walked across the room and plopped himself in that dumbass armchair. As soon as he did, I could see the burning glare his eyes directed toward me, how much he loathed the sudden control I had over him. Well I guess that's what you get for being such a dick.

I bent down and snatched my pistol, dropping it into the I began to make my way to the closed steel door, fully intending on shooting the fucking door down if I had to so I could go beat the ever loving shit out of Fury- oh and yeah, Ace fucking Wilson- and after flipping Loki off briefly as I passed him, the steel door slid open.

Standing in the doorway was none other than Natasha fucking Romanoff, also wielding a pistol to which the door slid back to her pointing it at Loki, who was unmoving.

Her face was pale and void of color, though like it usually was, it was incredibly hard to tell what she was thinking.

"You can put the gun down, he won't move."

Nat frowned, her eyes flitting up to mine but her gun still unmoving.

"How do you know?" She asked warily, to which I replied with an evil, chirpish tone to my voice.

"Beause I told him to sit."

Natasha nodded as if she was impressed and both simultaneously shocked, even though she's seen me do my voodoo mind shit before, as she slowly holstered her gun. Loki eyes were moving frequently between me and him, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with his furious breaths and thank the fucking Lord he was currently immobile.

Nat motioned for me to leave, waving her hand toward her in a beckoning motion and I did, enjoying the sound of the door closing behind me quickly. When we were both in the hallway, safe from that room- that man- I whipped toward her.

"What the fuck was that?" I demanded angrily, throwing my hand to motion toward the door of the room where our supervillian would be sitting for the next few hours.

"Torres, Wilson was only following orders." Natasha said quietely, though anything but weakly. The focus of my anger at that moment, however, wasn't Wilson. It wasn't Ace I was currently ready to murder.

"Fury couldn't have given me a warning? By the way, this random fucking unimportant criminal you'll be housing is a fucking alien! A literal supervillian! I could've die-"

I stopped talking suddenly, the memory of what happened in the room crossing my mind.

"Who all was watching that feed?" I demanded, looking at the monitor outside the steel door of Loki's room.

This time, guilt washed over Nat's face.

"E-Everybody, but I turned the sound off-"

"Everybody saw that?" I whispered, shame crawling up with the heat on my neck as my skin began to pinken.

Natasha nodded, looking down at the tattoos on my wrist, Nat was the only person to know how I got those ligature marks and who gave them to me, but I'll be damned if I was going to let any of the other Avengers know.

"What did Loki say to you, Elle?" Natasha asked softly, and my cheeks flushed brighter with embarrasment. I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out, I couldn't begin to say how close Loki had hit home. How he was able to discern those things about me eluded me.

"Elle?"

I couldn't begin to tell her how he got into my mind so easily.

God, I needed a cigarette.

-

Through the hallway, I wasn't interrupted. No curious eyes followed me or Avengers mysteriously popped into my path.

It seemed everyone knew that I needed a fucking moment.

because everyone saw what happened

Oh god, the thought terrified me. Nat said she turned off the audio- was that true? Or did they hear the poison that had dripped from Loki's tongue? It was likely that only Natasha had an inkling of what he said, because she was the only one who knew the horrors behind my tattoos, but still the thought of spectators haunted me.

I managed to hold myself together until I made it to my room, where I immediately grabbed the small vase from the vanity and hurled it at the wall with all my strength. The glass shattered against the wall, the white pieces of glass flying to the ground while I took deep breaths, evening myself out and calming myself down.

I stared longingly at the white box of cigarettes in the small bin, but I was not going to let that self righteous prick drag me back down into my nicotine habit. Not after all the fucking patches and gums and hypnotisms.

Grabbing my work phone from the vanity, I quickly noticed a missed call from the love of my life Debra Morgan.

Actually, eight missed calls.

"Jesus fucking-"

My phone began to ring again, and Debra's contact appeared on my screen, her contact picture a blurry, drunk photo that I took over a year ago and found fucking hilarious. Needing some words with my partner, and anyone outside of SHIELD, I pressed the accept button and held the phone to my ear.

"Hey Deb-"

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

I winced, holding my phone away from my ear as Debra's shrill, angry voice blasted through the speaker.

"You drop out of thin air- leave me with your fucking shit load of work, hand my ass to the Leuiteniant yourself, and you can't even answer your phone-"

"I'm sorry, Deb-"

"You're sorry? You dumped me for fucking L.A. and you're sorry-"

"I'm in New York."

"Frankly, Elle, I don't give a shit where you are. When are you coming back so I can murder your ass?" Debra sighed, her voice quickly loosing it's urgent tone and fading into an exhausted, irrated drawl.

"Probably Monday. And seriously, Deb, I'm sorry to drop out on you. Something came up." I sighed, falling onto the bed while keeping the phone to my ear.

"Okay, Elle Torres the fucking cryptic. I don't have time for your dumbass- Leuitenant Bitch is going to kill you, if I don't beat her to it."

"Yeah? Well, what else is new." I smarted off, scoffing as I examined my cuticles. With the hypnotic, bitchy voice of Debra Morgan I felt the previous tension in my shoulders slipping. There was something so simple as talking with Deb, she didn't have layers, didn't have anything written in her voice that she didn't flat out say. If she thought it, she said it.

Some days I don't know whether to kiss her or murder her, but right then, I happily gave in to the distraction.

"So glad you asked, Torres. You've got two new cases as of thirty minutes ago. Seperate hit and runs, possibly related, yadda yadda yadda."

"It's going to have to wait a few days, Debra. I've got other maniacs to attend to in New York."

"You have maniacs to attend to in Miami. I can't handle Laguerta by myself."

I snorted in amusement, thinking of the crazed Maria Laguerta and having no problem with a break from her, though I'd much rather deal with the vein in her forehead than turn back to the psycopath who I knew would be my responsibility for long after Monday.

"I'll be back before you know it. What else did I miss?" I inquired, not expecting much of a reply since I'd only been gone a day.

"Oh yeah, your boyfriend came looking for you-"

"Fuck! Damien!" I exclaimed, pressing my thumb to the skin between my brows. I'd completely forgot about him, we were supposed to get lunch when I was on my break- I hadn't even told him that I was going to New York. Damn it.

"I don't get it- what's with the sex noises?"

"These aren't sex noises, these are the noises of someone who has majorly fucked up." I groaned, angry at myself for my dumbassery.

"Oh Elle- you didn't tell Damien you left Miami?"

"It all happened so fast!"

"Oh my god-" Debra chortled, and I could hear her supressed amusement from the other end of the phone, I threw my hand over my face in exasperation, thinking how I happened to be the worst girlfriend in the world.

"Oh shut it- I'll call him later," except I didn't have his number on my work phone, and my personal cell was still sitting in my bedroom in Miami, "just change the subject please. Any other dashing gentlemen come to visit me while I've been on involuntary sabbatical?" I asked, rubbing my temple with one hand while I thought over all the shit that was currently piling on top of me.

"Actually, funny you should ask . Someone came looking for you today at the station."

That caught my attention, less than ten hours off the job and I'm appearing to be quite popular in Miami, Florida. I didn't know who would come to my work besides witnesses, and I had no active cases on me, so I honestly could not guess who would visit me.

"Really? Who was it?"

"I don't know, just some middle aged guy asking if you were there. He didn't leave a name or a message, fucking creep."

My heart stopped beating, and while it was quite the cliche thing to think, I knew I could no longer feel it pulse against my ribcage. My shoulders went tense and I wrapped my arm protectively around my middle, as if to protect myself from her words, and shield myself from the horrible truth that taunted me with its poison-tipped talons.

"Elle? You there?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn't know what to say, couldn't say anything without letting her know something was wrong. As ironic as it was, I couldn't hide my emotions for shit.

Maybe it's not him, I reminded myself. People had shown up to my work angry about the verdict on one of my cases before, maybe its some guy whose brother I put behind bars.

"Is the purpose of the badge you wear so boldly on your hip to keep the one bad guy away?"

But I could feel it in my chest, and in the way that my stomach dropped, that it was him.

"Yeah, sorry." I managed to push out of my dry throat, and it was a fucking miracle that my voice managed to remain even.

"Oh shit- dispatch just messaged me. I've got another fucking corpse- I'll call you back later Torres."

"Try not to have too much fun without me." I croaked, this time my voice not so even, but Deb didn't seem to notice.

"Fuck you," She said, before a quiet beep let me know that she hung up.

I dropped the phone from my ear, staring at the grooves in the ceiling while I took deep, even breaths. My heart started beating again, but it was so quickly that I couldn't keep up with it.

And all I could think about was that he knew where I worked- how did he find me? Was coming to my place of work in violation of a restraining order? Shit- if only I was a better cop and actually knew the fucking law, I could lock that son of a bitch up myself.

But I knew better than anyone- no jail cell could ever hold that man.

It might not be him, I reminded myself, though there was no force on this earth that could get me to believe that. I stood up from my bed slowly, lifting myself onto my quaking knees as I slowly made my way over the the bin on the opposite wall.

I grabbed the box of cigarettes and the lighter, staring at both in each hand while I struggled with myself, but the only thing going through my head was his promise to me.

There's nowhere to run, Ellie.

Without a second thought I placed the cigarette on my lip and lit it.

-

The cafeteria was exactly how I remembered it, large and split with rows of tables and a small kitchen in it.

Oh, and with one new detail, the fucking Avengers, all grouped together over one table like in grade school. A few of them were missing, and sitting there was Natasha, Thor, Ace, Tony and Steve, chatting and having not yet noticed me.

There were a million places in the world I'd rather be, but if I had to sit alone in my room for five more minutes I would finally decide to end it all and jump out the fucking window, so I chose the next best thing.

So I walked over to where they were all sitting, cigarette in hand, and plopped myself next to Natasha. "What's up, fuckers?"

Natasha whipped her head toward me, her eyes flashing with almost undetectable concern that quickly transformed into disapproval once she saw the lit cigarette in my hand.

"What the hell, Torres? Put that out."

"Fuck you, that's why." I replied nonchalantly, ignoring the stares that I was earning from the lot of them. Sitting across from me, whom I hadn't really noticed before, Ace snorted in amusement, and my eyes flitted to hers and narrowed slightly.

"You're not allowed to laugh at my references, I'm still pissed at you." I said, pointing my cigarette-holding hand toward her accusingly. Her eyes narrowed right back at me, but never lost their humored glint.

"Don't point your cigarette at me, Torres." Ace shot, her infuriating grin still stuck on her face as her light british accent curved her words. I went to raise my other hand to point my middle finger at her but Natasha grabbed my wrist and shot me a look.

"You mispronounced cancer," Tony Stark, who was sitting right next to Ace, piped with a mouthful of whatever he was shoveling down his throat currently, his attention hyper-focused on his plate. I quirked an eyebrow toward him and his glass which most definetely was filled with scotch.

"I beg your pardon, liver failure?" I smarted off, before taking a drag of the cigarette in my hands.

"At least liver failure tastes good- what do cigarettes taste like? Smoke and sadness?" Ace replied for Tony, which compelled me to look at her own glass. At first glance, I thought she was drinking water in a scotch glass, but with one more second of examination I realized she was drinking straight vodka.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me, you're going to tell me vodka tastes good by itself?" I snorted, pointing at her glass. She held her chin up, a small grin curling the sides of her mouth.

"Yes."

"Tastes better with a little cocaine." Tony mumbled into his food, and Steve's head perked up in alarm.

"Tell me you're joking." Steve demanded, while I heard Thor (motherfucking Thor) say something about how he didn't understand, which was to be expected since I severely doubted Asgard had drugs.

"Not even a little bit,"

He was totally joking.

"Jesus fuck, you know I'm a cop, right?" I said, narrowing my eyes at him while he only gave me the same grin he'd been wearing the whole time.

"Officer, I believe you're outside of your jurisdiction. Only way you could take me in is with that mind control shit of yours-"

With that, Ace jabbed him violently in the ribs with her elbow, and he yelped loudly and shot her a foul look, but it was unmatched with the deadly glare in her eyes.

"What? Are we going to ignore the psycho-voodo-shit we all saw?"

Fuck. I forgot about that.

True to my word, kind of. Here's my shitty update for today where I continue to slowly inch the story along.

I have this lucky streak going where I've tagged throwawaym8 in all of my chapters so why stop here? I've basically plagiarized everything about her sooo

Also she's literally the best and so fking supportive go read her shit or I'll take it personally

Hope you liked this ✨spicy✨ Under edited chapter

Byeee