So after a very long period of inactivity, I have returned with a new story! This is going to be a predominantly LokixOC story, and may eventually have some Steve RogersxOC. Writing in the Marvel universe is actually pretty tough, specially when it comes to capturing the characters in their most true form. Do leave reviews, I would love to hear from you guys!
Enjoy.
Maya lay under the covers of her bed, in the silent and somewhat chilly dorm-room. Her curtains had been left open, and the room was lit an eerie purple-blue from the city lights. Her room was the standard mess, as any other college students would be. On the carpet lay strewn her jeans and random, unpaired socks. By her bed, her shoes were tossed carelessly from when she'd kicked them off.
She had just hung up from a call, having spoken to her mom for half an hour. It was nearly 12:45 am, and at 12, as per tradition, her mother had called to wish her.
"Goodnight. I love you Maya."
"Love you too, mum."
Sighing gently, she had rolled onto her side and only just shut her eyes. She was exhausted from the brunt of her final semester. Their degree show loomed only a month away, and her paintings had yet to be critiqued by her supervisor. The worry made a knot in her chest and she groaned audibly, rolling onto her side when a knock on her door startled her. The knocks were gentle at first, and then slowly grew more frantic. She mumbled to herself as she slid out of bed, she didn't need to open it to know who it was. Maya had to pause in front of the mirror to make sure her eyes were the right colour. As she flicked on the switch that hung over the little sink and mirror in her room, she was unsurprised to find them a honey-yellow. Unsurprised because when she grew too curious, her eyes changed colour and showed her many things at once, such as the person responsible for the knocks on her door.
She did some breathing exercises as her mother had taught her, and her eyes cooled to their dark unassuming shade of brown. She drifted tiredly to the door and pried it open, masking her voice to sound more tired than annoyed,
"Sam," She mumbled as she opened the door, "What are you-"
She was startled into silence. Before her stood pale, blonde and lanky Sam, with a bouquet in one hand and a bunch of balloons in the other.
"Happy birthday Maya!" He sang, pushing past her into her room and releasing the balloons. They hit the ceiling with soft thumps as Maya swung the door shut and flipped on the bedroom light, pleasantly shocked by the surprise she hadn't seen coming. They had been dating for a few months, and she hadn't expected him to do anything of the sort, neither had she been able to see that he had brought something with him- her mother had suggested that her 'powers' were not too powerful, and that she was probably vaguely telepathic in some way.
"Oh no," Sam was behind her, switching off the light again and trailing her hand with his own, "No need to turn that on." He had deposited the flowers somewhere in the room and nuzzled her neck.
"Sammy, what are you doing?"
He responded with a 'sshhh' and left a trail of slow kisses down her neck as he directed her towards the bed, her feet stumbling slightly as he tugged her backwards. He sat down on the bed and pulled her onto his lap, his shirt removed and his fingers cold against the skin of her abdomen. Maya was suddenly feeling exposed.
"Sam, I don't want to go any further right now."
He paused, his hands trailing disappointedly down her thighs as she turned in his lap and straddled him. Her hair lay over one shoulder, wide eyes glinting in the faint light of the room. Sam swore to her that he saw stars in her eyes because they were 'so shiny'.
"But babe, we deserve this. Come on." He brought his lips gently to hers and her hands came up against his shoulders. Maya had not kissed many people in her life, choosing to keep her physical desires suppressed to the minimum. The sudden dive into all this action left her feeling startled, but she attempted to give in, moving her lips in rhythm with his. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling it slightly.
Admittedly, it felt very, very good to have him straddled beneath her this way. His lips were soft and urgent against hers, and the pulse of his manhood between her legs made itself very known to her.
She felt an itch in her throat just as she felt the warmth pool between her legs.
In a rush, they became tangled, their pants forgotten and breaths hitching.
When she felt him attempt to push his way inside her, savouring the pleasure and awaiting the pain that would come, something very unexpected began.
It started with a strange glow, as if the capillaries in her skin were igniting like a bomb going off in slow motion. Her skin was illuminated by veins of purple light, that throbbed with her own heartbeat. Sam's heart-rate sped up, so much that she was close enough to feel his heart hammering as if it would tear it's way through his chest. He thought it was excitement, but his had began to spin, a feeling of intense pleasure coursing through his body before it turned to pain, infuriating and scorching throw every cell of his being.
"Maya?" His voice came out raspy and confused, his pupils had shrunk and he seemed to not be looking towards her anymore.
"Sam?" Panicked, she struggled to move away from under him, horrified more so by the beginnings of what became a violent spasm. He convulsed over her, his eyes wide and almost bursting from his skull, his tongue penetrating weakly through his lips as if he was choking. A strange, prolonged groan escaped him as if he was trying to say something to her.
"SAM!"
The first time she screamed, she hadn't heard her own voice. Pushing his convulsing body off, she threw herself off the bed and pulled on her pyjama bottoms, seizing her phone to dial for an ambulance. He seemed to still as she sobbed into the phone, tugging a shirt over her head as she tore the bedroom door open and screamed for help.
When the ambulance arrived, the convulsions were over and Sam was carried out in silence on a stretcher. He was still alive, but unconscious and had suffered some sort of seizure.
Some of her friends from the dorm-floor attempted to comfort her, squeezing her shoulders as she sat, stock-still, on her bed. Her closest friend Emma, had come charging down the hall at the sound of Maya's screams and had spoken to the first responders when they arrived, her eyes trained on Maya, who had sat on the bed, stiff and incredibly still.
The first responder had said something about possible drugs in his system, but Maya hadn't known Sam to do much beyond smoking weed. She did too occasionally, and now she was left to wonder why it wasn't her that had been convulsing.
Feeling lecherously filthy, she ran her hands through her hair and shuddered. Emma shut the door behind the last people to leave, their floor supervisor included.
"Maya, come sleep in my room." She stepped gently to her friend and brushed her hair out of her eyes, "Maya?"
She gazed at her friend, and almost as if she'd snapped to reality, Maya nearly jumped. "No. No, I'll shower and sleep here. I have to face this."
Emma would plead with her, but her first year at university had only taught her that there wasn't a creature on earth as stubborn as Maya.
"I'll see you in the morning, Firestarter."
Maya smiled softly, nodding gently at her friend as she left.
"My dear…" Frigga appeared to be mumbling to herself, standing in the balcony so well lit by the sun that she was nearly invisible to Loki's fast-adjusting eyes. Frigga had sensed the awakening of her daughter's innate abilities. They had long been put to sleep, but now that she was matured, nothing could hold her body from becoming what it was meant to be. Frigga clasped her hands and her lips compressed into a worried line as Loki strode to her.
"Mother."
"Loki." She paused, as if she had meant to speak further, her lips parting, "Freyja has just awoken part of her…powers."
Loki frowned, cocking his head to one side, "Then should we not go to her?"
Realizing her mistake, Frigga turned away from Loki and strode out further into the balcony, with her son hot on her heels. "Tell me, mother. Will you not go to her now? When she needs you more than anyone else?"
When she did not answer, he paused a little away from her, shoulders drooped and eyes scrutinizing. She did not need to speak for Loki to put the situation together in his mind. He scoffed disappointedly, feeling a soft pulse of anger towards his mother, "She does not know does she?"
The silence he received angered him more, and he was one careful with his temperance, particularly towards his mother.
"You left her in the dark, for 18 years?" He sounded disbelieving, as if he found the idea that Frigga would remain silent towards her daughter incredulous, an idea that he hoped was not the truth.
"I had to, Loki. If the All-father were to have known, she would cease to be."
"You told me she knew. Why would you lie? If you didn't have the courage to face her yourself, I would have." A powerful statement, he knew. He immediately regretted it.
She turned her head sharply, "What do you think it is you could have accomplished that I could not? I have hidden her there, all these years."
A laugh bubbled from his mouth, a most unnatural and cold chuckle, "I can hardly believe you. How do you think someone like her will react once she realizes she is not human? And when she finds out she has a family that left her?"
The silence that descended between them was disheartening and frosty. Loki approached her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. He spoke so genuinely that Frigga questioned her own actions.
"You must go to her now. Before she learns about her heritage some other way."
Loki disappeared with a glimmer, as Frigga stood looking back through the large arching doors of her bedroom balcony, wondering what calamity her actions would bring.
Maya stepped out of the shower, a clean towel wrapped snuggly around her body as she stood in front of the sink and stared at her reflection. Her dark hair clung to her skin in thick tendrils, her eyes looked sunken in. She had the appearance of somebody worse-for-wear. Her hands shook through the shower, and she could only repeat to herself that none of it had been her fault or her doing. What control did she have over his physical being?
"Calm down." She huffed, leaving the bathroom to dress herself into a fresh pair of pyjamas and a soft t-shirt that would keep her comfortable. She turned to towel her hair and froze, her heart lurching into her throat, as thunder echoed loudly outside. It sounded as if the roof was crashing overhead and she laughed nervously to herself,
"Thunder and lightning aren't so frightening."
She had sung this little line to herself frequently, living on the outskirts of New York, far confined from the noise of the city and the comfort of neighbours. Her mother's orchard home had been frightening plenty of times in her childhood.
Hastily, she pulled on the dark pair of jeans that had been lying on the carpet. She pulled on a bra, and then a black t-shirt from within her messy drawer of similar t-shirts. Brushing her wet hair until it was untangled, she blow-dried it until it was only slightly damp. She watched her reflection, vaguely aware of the fact that certain parts of her skin still emitted a strange glow, as if someone had lit little bulbs of light within her veins.
Terrified, she snatched her cell phone from her bed, and pulled on her jacket, scrambling for the purse that hung on the coat stand by the door. She unlocked her bedroom door and slipped out into the yellow light of the hallway, clicking the door shut as quietly as possible. She locked it and hastened down the hall to the staircase, zipping up her jacket all the way to hide her neck.
She felt the strange buzz within her like electricity and she was hyperaware of the fact that she would not be able to control her eyes from glowing yellow. Whispering to herself, she tried to comfort herself. If she lost her calm, it would be very difficult to drive.
The thought made her panic more and she slipped down the stairs, bombarded by images of her entire building. Emma in her room, leafing through a novel. The boy that lived across her rolling a joint for himself. The night-guard shuffling around the outskirts of the building, nearing the entrance.
Pushing herself onto her feet, she ran back up a few steps, hiding from his view as he entered the building and slipped into the back-room of the front desk. With him gone from sight, she wiped the sweat from her brow and sprinted out the door, the whirr of the automatic door the only sound announcing her exit. Outside safely, she felt the cold hit her lungs as she inhaled, grateful for the freedom of being out under the open sky. Cold drops of water occasionally smattering her exposed hands and her cheeks, she pulled up her hood, shoved her hands in her pockets and began to pace quickly to the student parking lot towards her car.
There wasn't a soul in sight, but that did not mean there wasn't a soul in her sight. She could see the birds nestled on various window sills and behind old air-conditioning vents, she could see a homeless man shimmying his way towards the student dumpsters and the rat scourging its way through the trash. It took all her will-power to bring her focus back to herself as she pried her car-keys from her tote, unlocking the car-door and tossing her bag into the passenger seat. As she sat down behind the wheel, she rested her head back and took in a deep breath, focusing on the sound of thunder and the flashes of red-purple lightning in the clouds. They would keep her grounded as she drove home, 'I can't stay here, I have to be able to do this drive.' She was convinced that staying at her accommodation would only deem herself a danger to anyone else, and the thought of Sam convulsing and frothing at the mouth made her shudder.
'I did that.'
"No, no, no…" She shook her head and pulled the car door shut, starting the engine and pulling down all the windows so that she could hear the noise of New York city, the rain and the thunder, and smell the scent of damp earth as she reversed her car out of it's spot and began her rather careless drive home.