Title: Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Paring: Loki X Reader

Warnings: none!

Spoilers: none!

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Before you wake, you notice there are voices all around you. Their words run onto each other, into circles in a cycle that confuses you. You're not sure why you are asleep in the first place, the last thing you can remember was your desk at work, waiting for more jobs to complete from your boss -

"Should we tell her?" you catch onto these words, and frowning, you force your eyes ajar. He has curly hair, and glasses. He stands beside your bed, flanked by many other people you also do not know. "It's a miracle she's alive."

A taller man coughs. "Uh, if it happened to me, I'd sure as hell want it."

"No, you would not," your mouth opens, words tumbling out. "You would rather find out on your own, in a controlled environment."

The room is still. Your eyes finally see the room, and gauge the numbers that surround you. There are familiar faces, a few people you've seen on TV - wait, they're not D-List celebrities hosting the after midnight shopping channel. These are the Avengers.

"Holy crap, what just happened?" you cover your mouth.

There's the beeping of a heart rate monitor nearby, but you're not focusing on the steadily increasing pace of the annoying beeps. You're watching the faces of these people you know by their public superhero alias watch you like you're E.T. or something straight out of American Horror Story. Not the standard, run-of-the-mill personal assistant civilian you really are. Were?

"You're currently under the influence of something a bad, bad man made to do bad things with," a man with white hair speaks up. He wears a plaid blue shirt, and eyes you with his dark eyes. "Nothing to worry about."

"Pietro," a shorter brunette hisses.

You shake your head. "That's...that's not quite true, is it?" you wonder.

The man with curly hair...Dr. Bruce Banner!  shakes his head. "You're most certainly right, Miss __________ ________. We aren't sure you remember the accident, but enemies of your boss, Mr. Richards approached your place of work quite late last Thursday evening, and tried to initiate a fight. Quite unfortunately, instead of attacking your boss, he targeted you."

You nod. "That sounds better, Dr. Banner. So, this...thing I have, this knack..."

The taller man - Tony Stark! Why hadn't you recognised him sooner, his face and facial hair was plastered to every billboard, newspaper, subway poster in town, heck, there was a huge flashing picture of him outside your apartment! - he gave you a sad smile. "It's now officially your superpowers, Miss ________. You, as you've shown to us, have the ability to tell the truth, and find it."

It isn't until a week later when you make it back to work. Johnny is standing by the doorman, and before you know it, he's confessed that he's supposed to break it to you lightly that you've been given some time off from work to recover from your accident, about six to eight weeks, please don't tell his sister that he blurted it all out before you made it up the stairs. You understand. Johnny, despite his habit as being a famed womanising king (send to Tony Stark), really gets you, and promises to call you up to check on you while you're away.

You can tell he means it.

You can tell your landlord means it when he kicks you out of your apartment for missing the rent - it wasn't like you had a streak of it, but he had a new born baby and a sick wife to care for, let alone the rest of the tenants. You pack your things, and call the first number you can remember.

"Hello, this is _______...I need a place to stay for a while, I - are you sure? I can be there - you don't have to - thank you, I'll see you then."

A car comes to pick you up promptly. And thus, you came to stay at the Avengers Tower. It isn't until Phil Coulson, a suited man with shades on inside notices your newfound abilities and recruits you to train alongside everyone for combat. Luckily for you, though, while everyone is doing cardio, you're paired with the Nat Romanov, learning the basics of spying and intelligence. It's a wonderful run you have, but four weeks into your stay, there arrived a new member.

You were reading in the library when he appeared. His eyes found you as soon as he swept into the room, piercing and green, but it was what you read within them that made your mind spin. Before your incident, there had been plenty of migraines experienced and brain-splitting headaches which rocked you into a brutal oblivion. But this -- it was killing you.

"Mortal-,"

"I have to go," you excuse. Your book is left to close itself, Loki left standing in the entrance of the library.

Incidents like this happen to you since your accident, but never like this. You'd get a pang in your hand when someone tried to steal a cookie or a twitch in your eye when someone told a lie. But never a migraine which forced you out of your comfort, your happy place.

Nobody approaches you upon the subject of you leaving a room when the green Asgardian prince arrives, or flat out ignoring him. It's the same thing they're doing, except, you're quite blatant.

The telltale feeling of another terrible headache ring in your skull, but before you can evacuate, you're surprised to hear him speak to you. "What is it about me which disgusts you?"

You frown, and turn to him. You've never had a proper look at him, but now you have no choice. His hair is to his shoulders, straight, dark, and he wears a button down shirt and denim slacks like he isn't a thousand year old alien from somewhere out of space.

"I - you've got it wrong. I'm not disgusted by you." You stutter. "I have something wrong with me. It's - ever since it happened, I sense the truth in people. When people lie, I -," you close your eyes. The pain from being near him increases with every second, and before you know it, a tear escapes your eye. "It can cause immense pain to me."

Loki cocks his head, crossing his arms like his brother does. "I do suppose I shall let you go on and leave my presence, mortal. It wouldn't do well to hurt you by being near you."

But the thing is, your feet don't move away. They stay planted, and your eyes stay open. "My name is ________, and I'm staying here with you until you explain why you're - you're -,"

"I'm the God of Lies, darling," he drawls. "The Trickster God, the bane of every living thing's existence. I live to wreck havoc."

You shake your head. "N-no, you don't." You deny. "It's a defence for you, isn't it? Something drove you to become this way. You're not some damned man you claim to be."

He narrows his eyes. "And you read that with your abilities? My, what a great skill, psychology."

You shake your head. "I don't - I don't know a lick of psychology. All I have is this thing inside me which tells me what you're saying is not the truth." You take a deep breath, and  placing your hands upon your hips akimbo,  you add, "If anything, your actions reflect a small boy trying to impress someone."

"Liar!" Loki shouts.

Your headache worsens. "Whatever you say, the truth still stands. I'm not under the influence of anything but something which makes me the most honest person on the planet, princeling. So, you're the liar," your voice rises, and you spit out, "Liar liar, pants - on fire!"

He doesn't compute you're gone until your footsteps echo in his ears.

You wake the next morning with your voicemail machine's tone telling you of new mail, and still half-asleep, you play the message. It's from your boss, Mr. Richards, saying he expects you to be back any day to resume your job, and that his fiancé-soon-to-be-wife misses you so much, hugs and kisses from Sue.

You're wide awake by the time the message ends. Your fingers twitch, unsure to press the replay or delete. But instead, they curl into a fist, and slowly release.

Dressing for the day, you remember that the night before you had that awful argument with Loki. It had been in the back of your mind, haunting your dreams all night. How had you run away from a disagreement, an argument in such a childish way?

You had to set it right.

But as you went to go on your way, there's a figure darkening your doorway. A tall, dark-haired Asgardian. Loki.

"I came to apologise," he prefaced. "You are right. I have done things in my life which reflect the ways of a child, in simplistic, petty ways which harm people. I know this thing you've acquired must be new and intimidating and my nature does nothing to aid you. I'm sorry."

You feel your cheeks darkening.

"Did I say something wrong?" Loki wonders.

You shake your head. "You're - you just spoke the truth to me, Loki. I can stand here without pain! You're - you're -," you gush.

His lip pulls up at the side. "I'm honest."

You nod so fiercely that your head hurts a little with the exaggerated movement. "You are!" You beam. "You have no idea how amazing it is to not be in pain around you!"

Loki chuckles. "I could only imagine so. I was also thinking we could go out sometime, like Midgardians do for fun. If you wish."

You beam. "You mean it?" But you know the answer already.

Loki nods. "Of course. There's something about women running away from me constantly that makes me want to follow in pursuit."