A collection of Loki and Sylvie reader inserts that take place during or draw inspiration from the new Loki tv show. Please read the warnings at the beginning of each fic.
Summary:On the run from the TVA, Loki and Sylvie stumble through a door to another universe where the person they both loved is still alive and well. One problem: it's too early in the timeline and they have no idea who they are to each other.
Rating: Teen/Mature
Tags: mild Loki spoilers, canon divergent, mentions of death, mild angst, past relationships, ex lovers, strangers to something, brief mention of blood, a few suggestive themes
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You skidded around the corner, dust kicking up around your feet, only to find yourself trapped in the thin alleyway. Chest heaving, the overbearing heat of summer really not suited to a chase through the markets, you leapt backwards from the man's grip, his fingers just grazing the latch on your satchel.
Backed against a thick stone wall, there was no where else you could go; the black haired man blocked your way to one end and three feet of stone kept you from turning the other. In a perfect world, you'd pull the blade from your boot and fight your way out but, judging by the thick leather armour he wore, he was a warrior and you would be a fool to try and take him on.
"Take it. I don't want any trouble."
You tossed your bag onto the ground between you, hands in the air to show you meant no harm. The closer he came, the better look you got at each of the weapons on his belt and the stronger the urge became not to engage the man. Not only were his daggers impressive – gilded in gold from the old realms – there was an air of power around him, a tingling in the ether that warned you he possessed magic too. Gods, it really wasn't your lucky day.
"Let me see your face."
Curiously, it wasn't a demand. The man's voice was softer than you'd imagined it would be, smooth as the Alfheim silk delivered from afar straight to the palace courts. You should know; there were yards of the material back at your apartment waiting to be chopped up and sold on the black market. Perhaps that was what this was really about. The pair were certainly regal enough to have come straight from the palaces.
Knowing that, if that truly were the case, it was best to just do as you were told, you stepped into the thin beam of sunlight that passed through the overlapping roofs. Head held high, forever dignified even in the face of danger, you offered out your arms ready for the iron shackles. It wouldn't be first time you'd been paraded through the lower town in chains, and you sincerely doubted it would be last. It hardly mattered either way, though, given that you could pick the locks in under a minute. All you needed was another private street and you'd make your getaway.
However, it wasn't chains he locked you in. It was a tight embrace, the sort shared between lovers separated for far too long. Stiff in his arms, you coughed awkwardly as you broke apart, suddenly unsure where to look. A choice was made for you when long, gentle fingers hooked beneath your chin and awe flooded his expression.
