Loki Fluff - Blog Posts

Loki wallpaper

Credits to @marvelentertainment

Reblog or like if you used it!

Im super bored helpppp

Loki wallpaper

Like or reblog if you’re gonna use it!

Credits to whoever made the original photo

If you have any suggestions or requests, feel free to send an ask or dm me!

I thank god everyday for blessing mankind with this man right here.

The four horsemen of phase 4!

tom hiddleston and his dog gives me life

But the trees they dance Men trærne de danser And the waterfalls stop Og fossene stanser When she sings, she sings Når hun synger, hun synger Come home Kom hjem But the trees they dance Men trærne de danser And the waterfalls stop Og fossene stanser When she sings she sings come home When she sings she sings come home When she sings she sings come home When she sings she sings come home But the trees they dance Men trærne de danser And the waterfalls stop Og fossene stanser When she sings, she sings Når hun synger, hun synger Come home Kom hjem But the trees they dance Men trærne de danser And the waterfalls stop Og fossene stanser

When she sings she sings come home When she sings she sings come home In stormy black mountains I hike alone I stormsvarte fjell jeg vandrer alene I cross the glacier Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem In the apple orchard the maiden stands the vein I eplehagen står møyen den vene And sings: when are you coming home? Og synger: når kommer du hjem?

But the trees they dance Men trærne de danser And the waterfalls stop Og fossene stanser When she sings, she sings Når hun synger, hun synger Come home Kom hjem But the trees they dance Men trærne de danser And the waterfalls stop Og fossene stanser

When she sings she sings come home When she sings she sings come home

Calm In The Storm ➳ Loki Laufeyson

➳ a/n: this is for the cuddling prompts! if there are any typos, i apologize! fast-typer over here 😂. if you want to request some, send me an ask! 😘

➳ pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

➳ summary: After a fight with your loved ones, you're out on the streets during a storm, searching for someone to run to. Thankfully, you know just who to go to.

➳ warnings: mentions of anxiety/panic attacks

➳ cuddle prompts: Person A shows up at person B's door, having been in a bad fight with a loved one, hoping to spend the night in person B's bed for some extra comfort -> requested by: @/midnight-ramblings

➳ || Loki Laufeyson masterlist || main masterlist || who I write for || cuddle prompts masterlist ||

Wiping away the tears that managed to spill down your cheeks, the sniffles not having subsided just yet.

You couldn’t stand confrontation, especially when it came to one of your loved ones. Voicing your opinion only pushed the matter to become worse, and the envelope ripped open to reveal anger, hurt, and demise. Words were exchanged and as someone who experienced bouts of anxiety; it was detrimental.

Having no real destination planned in mind, you found your way down the streets of New York, aimlessly searching. The rain was in a light drizzle, thunderstorm clouds gathering overhead for an enraged downpour. You just hoped you made it to wherever you were going without getting completely soaked.

Grasping the fabric of your t-shirt, you could feel your heart pounding violently in your chest. Squeezing your eyes shut, your hands shook as you tried to work your way through breathing.

If you could just steady yourself long enough, you’d be okay. But when a loud crash of thunder sounded overhead, it made you yelp and begin racing faster down the length of the sidewalk.

Gazing to your left, the solid black front door caught your attention, the familiar home seeming too inviting.

Loki.

Cutting over the lawn and pressing your sneaker-covered feet on the steps to the small wrap-around porch, your eyes were met with the gold-embellished doorbell. Inhaling sharply, a streak of lightning illuminated the sky and pushed you onward to ringing the bell.

“Please wake up, please wake up…” You trailed softly under your breath, tears still bubbling in your eyes. You glanced up to the second floor to the flicker of light break through the curtains of the bedroom. Breathing out a small sigh of relief, it wasn’t long before the door was being pulled open.

“Darling?” Loki’s sultry voice called out to you. He saw the ends of your hair dripping with water and without hesitation, he reached forward and pulled you inside.

Closing the door, his blue orbs cast into yours and he quickly saw the look of fear present in your eyes. He was able to pick up on your moods with ease.

“What happened?” Loki questioned, already taking your hand and leading you up the staircase toward his bedroom. You remained quiet, unsure of what to say.

“It’s nothing…. It’s stupid, really. I got into a fight with one of my family members. It’s okay, we just exchanged words, but… You know how I am.” You said sheepishly, a few tears streaming down your face. Loki had led you into the comfort of his bedroom where he soon was helping you change out of your dampened clothes. As he pulled one of his larger shirts over your frame, a loud crash of thunder sounded, causing you to jump closer to his chest.

Loki wrapped his arms protectively around you. “It’s okay,” He said, planting his lips to your forehead. “But why were you out there tonight, Darling?” He questioned.

You shook your head. “I couldn’t bear to go home and be alone… I was hoping maybe I could stay here for the night.” You breathed out uneasily.

Loki’s eyes pooled into yours. “Love, my home is yours. Of course, you can stay here. I just want you to be okay and feel safe.” He whispered. He could feel your body shaking against his, seeing as your breaths came in labored pants. Quickly, he took your hands into his.

“Hey, look at me,” Loki softly spoke. Your eyes lifted to meet his and Loki held your gaze intensely. “Deep breaths, okay? You’re going to run yourself into another panic attack if you aren’t careful… Focus on me, Love. I’m right here.” He encouraged you to take big breaths. Soon, you were following his breathing pattern and a wave of calm slowly began to flood over you.

Loki led you beneath the blankets. He removed his shirt for the second time tonight and tossed it over the chair by his reading nook. Wrapping his arm around you, he kissed your temple and felt as you curled into him.

His grip on you relaxed as you rolled onto his chest. Burying your nose into the crook of his neck, Loki began to draw circles into your back. You smiled gently, your lover nuzzling closer into you.

Pretty soon, you had drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Loki’s arms were secured around you as he planted one more gentle kiss to the top of your head, whispering a sweet ‘goodnight’ into your ear before turning off the light and giving in to his own rest.

➳ tagging:

@joyful-enchantress @immersed-in-mischief @high-functioning-lokipath

@annoyingsweetsstranger

@eclecticlokibytomhiddleston @spidyyparker @deanaddicted2

@ethanshide @lokistoriesblog @l0st-in-reality

@shae-annelore

@realandloud

@favthiddles

@marvelgirl0515

@tiredmamamac

@cherii--bomb

@stuckybarton

@peachsteven

@vampire7595

@moonshooter

@knopewyattworld @holdmytesseract

@wander-lustbabe

@captain-asguard @mm2305

@1marvelnerd3000

@xfirespritex @lokilover64 @augusta-imperatrix

@inas-thing

@harrietbarnesblog

@a-laufeyson

@BakaTsuki-Hime

@lokiswildheartcantbebroken @marvelgirl0515

@a-laufeyson

@warriorqueenofthesea @develin13

@clockblobber

@blackberryblossom

@stephv213

@asgardianprincess1050 @badgereatingmice

@abaristasbabble

@pandaxnienke

@dryyoursaltyoceantears

@itscale

@xsweetdellzx

@salempoe

@el-zef

no bc why would a loki friends to lovers be so good?? 😭 ✋✋✋

can i request loki trope best friends to lovers with female avenger!reader from love is in the air? i have a whole plot and i am so sorry in advance so here we go:

reader is lokis best friend and they became friends bc she was the only avenger who was nice to him when he first came to the compound and they got really close. he still gets bad nightmares and when he does, he goes to readers room and she just accepts him and holds him while he cries until the nightmares are over!! (she’s so book boyfriend coded i literally can’t) and then this happens a lot but is only mentioned like a few times in the story (i really hope you understand this im so sorry my thoughts are literally all over the place) and then one night he goes to her room again bc of another nightmare and she comforts him and they fall asleep and he doesn’t have any nightmares while sleeping and then in the morning when they wake up (tangled in each others limbs) he goes ‘i love you’ and she smiles and goes i know and then he goes like ‘no, i LOVE you’ and she smiles more and whispers ‘i know’ and then kisses him!!!

thank you for making this new game and always specifying the as much detail as we want part i love u and ur writing soso much and you are so amazing and im so sorry for making you read this super long request

— anon 🌷

NIGHTMARES

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, some angst and some fluff

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.3k

ᯓ★ Summary: just what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think, just some angst

ᯓ★ Love is in the air - Valentine's Day special game

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

Loki has no choice but to be here.

It is a punishment, though not the kind he expected. No dungeons, no chains—just the ever-present weight of Midgardian hospitality, which is its own sort of prison. After Asgard’s fall and the madness that followed, Thor petitioned to bring Loki to the Avengers Compound rather than leave him to whatever grim fate awaited him elsewhere. It was a mercy, Thor claimed. Loki knew better. It was just another way to keep him under watch, to keep him leashed. So he plays along, lets them believe he is something tame and manageable, even if the mere presence of this place makes his skin crawl.

The others do not trust him. That much is expected. Even if Loki had miraculously decided to change his ways, there is too much blood between them all. Stark especially watches him like a vulture, always ready with some barbed comment, some clever little jab to remind Loki that he is not welcome. Rogers is quieter about his disdain, ever the noble soldier, but he does not mask it well. Romanoff does not bother with pretense—she does not speak to him at all. Barton is much the same, still nursing whatever wounds Loki left behind in New York. Maximoff has her own reasons to hate him. Strange treats him as one might treat an unpredictable wild animal, barely interested beyond the occasional veiled threat.

Thor is the only one who does not look at Loki like an enemy, though his efforts to bridge the gap between them are clumsy at best. Loki does not want his brother’s pity. He does not want to be here at all.

And yet, somehow, against all odds, you happen.

You are the only one who speaks to Loki without venom in your voice, the only one who does not look at him like a problem that needs solving. From the very beginning, you offer him kindness. Not the strained, obligatory sort Thor extends, nor the artificial niceties of someone waiting for him to slip up. You are simply… kind. It baffles him. It frustrates him. It keeps him awake at night, replaying your words and gestures in his mind, trying to decipher your angle.

He tests you at first. He is cruel, the way he has always been, sharp-tongued and dismissive. He tries to chase you away, because he cannot fathom why you would want to be close to him. But you stay. You take his barbs with an infuriating sort of patience, countering his wit with your own, refusing to let him push you into the shadows. And slowly, against his better judgment, he stops trying to push at all.

Loki does not know when exactly things change. One moment, you are just another foolish Midgardian trying to play nice with the villain, and the next, you are something else entirely. A constant. A presence that lingers in his mind even when you are not there. He finds himself seeking you out, watching for you when he enters a room. He makes excuses to be where you are, though he is certain you see through them all.

You are different from the others. Perhaps that is why he lets you in. Perhaps that is why, when you tease him, he does not feel the usual bite of mockery. When you speak to him, he listens. When you laugh, he does not wish for silence.

It is strange, this… whatever this is between you. He does not know what to call it.

There is a night, early on, when he realizes how much he enjoys your presence. The others are away on some mission, leaving the compound oddly silent. You do not know he is there when you slip into the common room, curled up in the corner with a book, lost in the pages. Loki watches you for longer than he should before making himself known. You do not startle when he speaks, do not tense like the others do when they notice him lurking. You simply glance up, meet his gaze, and smile.

It is a small thing. A meaningless thing. And yet, Loki feels it somewhere deep in his chest, in a place he thought long since turned to stone.

From then on, things are… different. You and Loki fall into an easy rhythm, one that does not require explanation. You are his friend, though he still struggles with the weight of that word. It is unfamiliar on his tongue, but there is no other way to describe what you are to him. You speak to him as though he is not a monster. You listen when he speaks, even when his words turn bitter. You do not pity him, nor do you fear him. It is a delicate balance, and yet, you hold it effortlessly.

The others notice, of course. Stark makes his comments, forever incredulous that you would willingly spend your time with Loki. The others exchange looks when they see you together, silently wondering what exactly has formed between you. Even Thor is perplexed by it, though he does not question it aloud.

Loki does not care what they think.

For the first time in what feels like centuries, he is not entirely alone.

---

The first time it happens, Loki does not intend for it to happen at all.

It is late—long past the hour when even the restless find sleep. The compound is silent, steeped in the kind of darkness that makes everything feel heavier, more oppressive. He should be resting. He knows this. And yet, as he lies in the too-soft Midgardian bed, the sheets tangled around his restless limbs, Loki cannot shake the remnants of his nightmare.

It is not the first time he has suffered such things. They have plagued him for years, twisting his thoughts into cruel shapes, dragging him into memories he cannot escape. Usually, he endures them alone, swallowing down the horror, letting it fester in silence. But tonight is different. Tonight, the weight of it is unbearable.

He sits up, dragging a hand down his face, breath still unsteady. The dream clings to him like a second skin. He can feel it—thick, choking, inescapable. His own screams still echo in his mind, a cruel reminder of how easily he unravels when left alone with his thoughts.

He needs to breathe.

Loki forces himself out of bed, out of his room, into the dimly lit hall. He does not know where he is going at first. He does not think at all. His body moves on instinct, his feet carrying him forward before his mind catches up.

And then he is standing in front of your door.

The realization strikes him like a blow. He should not be here. He has no reason to be here. And yet, something in him will not allow him to turn away.

He hesitates, jaw tight, fingers curling into fists. He should leave. The last thing he wants is for you to see him like this—weak, vulnerable, broken. You have only ever known the pieces of him that he allows you to see, the sharp wit, the clever smirk, the mask that keeps the world at bay. This… this is something else entirely.

And yet, before he can stop himself, he lifts his hand and knocks.

It is soft, barely audible, but in the silence of the compound, it may as well be a thunderclap. His heart pounds against his ribs, and he almost turns to flee before the sound of movement reaches his ears.

A moment later, the door opens.

You stand before him, bleary-eyed and wrapped in a blanket, confusion written across your features.

"Loki?" Your voice is thick with sleep, but there is no irritation in it, no impatience. Just quiet concern.

He does not know what to say. He does not even know why he is here, why he has come to you instead of locking himself away like he always does. The words catch in his throat, his pride warring with his need for something—anything—to ground him.

But you look at him, really look at him, and something in your expression shifts.

You step aside without a word, leaving the doorway open in silent invitation.

For a long moment, Loki simply stands there, waging a battle within himself. He should not do this. He should not need this.

But the alternative is far worse.

So, with slow, reluctant steps, he moves inside.

You close the door behind him, and the quiet settles between you, not awkward, but heavy with something unspoken. You do not ask why he is here. You do not press him for an explanation. Instead, you gesture toward your bed, a silent offer, as if you have already decided what he needs before he can admit it himself.

He swallows, shame burning in his chest, but he cannot bring himself to refuse.

Without a word, he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. His hands tremble slightly as he presses them against his knees, his entire body taut with tension. He feels exposed, raw in a way that terrifies him.

And then you sit beside him, so close he can feel your warmth.

Still, you do not push. You wait.

It is this—your patience, your quiet understanding—that breaks something in him.

He exhales sharply, his composure fracturing at the edges. His shoulders shake before he can stop them, and then, before he even knows what is happening, his hands are gripping the fabric of his own sleeves so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

You move before he can react, before he can even think to stop you. Your arms come around him, careful but certain, pulling him into your embrace.

Loki stiffens at first, instinct screaming at him to pull away. He is not used to this—to being held. He does not know how to accept comfort, how to take something so freely given.

But you do not let go. You do not waver. You simply hold him, warm and steady, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

And Loki breaks.

A shuddering breath escapes him, and then another. His body sags against yours before he can stop it, his forehead pressing into your shoulder, his fingers clutching at the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. The dam bursts, and before he can stop it, he is trembling, shaking, silent sobs wracking his frame.

You say nothing. You do not tell him it is okay, do not offer empty reassurances. You simply hold him through it, your hands moving gently along his back, your touch grounding him in a way that nothing else ever has.

Time loses meaning. He does not know how long he stays like this, pressed against you, his breath uneven, his body betraying him. But you never pull away. You never make him feel as if he is too much.

When the storm finally begins to pass, when his breathing evens and the tremors fade, he feels exhaustion settle deep in his bones. He should move. He should leave before he humiliates himself further.

But then you shift, adjusting your grip so that you are holding him more fully, your chin resting gently atop his head.

"Stay," you murmur, the word barely above a whisper.

He does not fight it.

For the first time in his life, Loki allows himself to be held.

That night, he sleeps.

And then, somehow, it becomes normal.

It does not happen every night, but often enough that neither of you question it anymore. When the nightmares come, when the weight of his past becomes unbearable, Loki finds himself at your door.

And every time, without fail, you let him in.

The shame he once felt begins to fade, replaced by something he does not have the words for. You do not judge him for his weakness. You do not make him feel like a burden. You simply accept him, in all his fractured, broken pieces, without hesitation.

It is terrifying.

It is the most comfort he has ever known.

And Loki does not know what to do with that.

---

Loki does not know when it begins. Perhaps it has always been there, buried beneath layers of denial and self-preservation, something too delicate to acknowledge, too dangerous to name. But slowly, steadily, it grows.

He notices it in the quiet moments, in the spaces between words.

It is in the way he seeks you out without realizing it, the way his day does not feel quite right until he has spoken to you. It is in the way his chest tightens when you laugh, in the way his mind lingers on your voice long after you have left the room.

It is in the nights spent wrapped in your arms, when the nightmares become too much.

At first, those nights were a necessity, a last resort when his own mind betrayed him. But now, they are something else entirely. The shame that once clung to him has faded, replaced by something far more dangerous. He no longer fights the pull toward you—he welcomes it. He does not know when it became so natural to find solace in your presence, to lean into your warmth without hesitation.

But it is not just about the nightmares anymore.

It is the way he lingers when he does not need to. The way his fingers brush against yours in passing, the way he memorizes every shift in your expression, the way your touch lingers on his skin long after you have pulled away. It is the way his heart pounds in his chest at the smallest of gestures, the way your absence leaves an ache that he cannot name.

And then, one night, it happens.

It is late, but Loki is not in his room. He is in yours, as he has been countless times before. The routine is familiar—he wakes from a nightmare, the echoes of it still clinging to his skin, and without thinking, his feet carry him to you.

You let him in, as you always do.

Tonight, the weight of it is heavier than usual. The nightmare lingers in his mind, curling around his thoughts like smoke. He does not speak of it, and you do not ask. You simply pull him into your arms, letting him bury himself against you, his breath uneven against your collarbone.

For a long time, neither of you move. The silence is comforting, your fingers tracing gentle patterns along his back, grounding him.

And then, in the stillness, something shifts.

You sigh softly, a sleepy, content sound, your arms tightening around him just slightly before relaxing again. It is the simplest thing—an unconscious movement, a meaningless moment.

But it unravels him.

The realization hits Loki with the force of a thousand suns. It is sudden and absolute, as if it has been waiting for this exact moment to make itself known.

He loves you.

It is not friendship, not even close. It never has been.

His love for you is deep and consuming, something that lives in his very bones. It is in the way he looks at you when you are not watching, the way your presence soothes him in a way nothing else ever has. It is in the way he would burn the world to the ground if it meant keeping you safe.

The realization is terrifying.

Loki does not move. He does not breathe. He simply lies there, pressed against you, as the weight of it crushes him.

This should not have happened. He should not have allowed it.

Love is a weakness. It is a thing to be used, to be twisted and turned against him. He has seen it happen too many times before. He has felt the sting of rejection, the sharp bite of betrayal. He knows better than to hope.

And yet, it is too late.

Loki swallows hard, willing the ache in his chest to subside. He cannot tell you. He will not. You are his closest friend, the only person who has ever truly seen him, the only one who has never turned him away. If he speaks this truth aloud, he risks losing that.

And that is something he cannot bear.

So he does what he has always done—he buries it.

He forces himself to breathe, forces himself to relax against you, as if nothing has changed. Because for you, nothing has.

You do not know. You cannot know.

And Loki will make sure it stays that way.

From that night on, everything feels different.

He pretends it does not. He is careful, measured. He acts as he always has, keeps his words and actions the same. He does not allow himself to linger too long, does not let his touch betray him.

But inside, he is unraveling.

It is a constant war, a battle he fights every second he is near you. He is hyperaware of every glance, every touch, every breath. He cannot stop looking at your lips when you speak, cannot ignore the way his heart clenches when you smile.

And the worst part? You do not even notice.

You treat him the same as always, utterly unaware of the storm raging inside him. You laugh with him, tease him, pull him into your arms on those quiet nights, completely oblivious to the fact that every moment is torture.

Because he wants.

Gods, how he wants.

There are nights when he stands outside your door, debating whether or not he should knock. Not because of the nightmares—those still come, but they are no longer the only reason he seeks you out. He knocks because he aches for your presence, because the thought of being alone feels unbearable.

And every time, without fail, you let him in.

You do not question it. You do not ask why. You simply welcome him as if he belongs there, as if it is the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe, to you, it is.

But for Loki, it is agony.

Because he cannot have you.

Not the way he wants.

And so, he suffers in silence.

He lets himself be near you, lets himself feel your warmth, your touch, your kindness. But he never says a word. He keeps it locked inside, where it cannot hurt either of you.

Because if you do not know, then you cannot leave.

And for Loki, that is the only thing that matters.

---

It happens again.

Another nightmare. Another night where the ghosts of his past pull him under, drowning him in horrors he cannot escape.

Loki wakes with a sharp inhale, his breath coming too fast, his chest tight with panic. The darkness of his room feels suffocating, the walls too close, the air too thin. His hands tremble as he presses them against the mattress, trying to ground himself, trying to remind himself that he is here, not there.

Not falling. Not failing. Not alone.

The thought comes unbidden, as it always does.

Because he is not alone.

Without thinking, without hesitating, his body moves on instinct, slipping out of bed and into the hallway. His bare feet make no sound against the floor, the compound silent in the deep hours of the night. He does not question where he is going. He does not stop to consider if he should.

Because he already knows the answer.

Your door is slightly ajar, just as it always is. You never lock it. You never turn him away.

Loki hesitates for only a moment before pushing it open.

The room is bathed in darkness, the faint glow of the city outside casting soft shadows along the walls. You are curled beneath the blankets, your breathing slow and steady, lost in sleep.

He should leave. He should not do this.

But the remnants of his nightmare still cling to him, cold and suffocating, and he cannot bear the thought of returning to his room, to the silence, to the weight of his own thoughts.

So he steps inside.

The floor creaks beneath his weight, but you do not startle. You stir slightly, shifting against the pillows, but you do not wake.

And yet, as he stands there, lingering in the doorway, you sigh softly, murmuring his name in the dark. Not with fear, not with surprise—just quiet understanding, as if you expected him to be there all along.

Something in his chest tightens.

He does not speak, does not explain. He simply moves toward the bed, and when he hesitates, you lift the blanket in silent invitation.

He exhales, slow and shaky, before slipping beneath the covers beside you.

The warmth of you envelops him immediately, soft and steady, grounding him in a way that nothing else ever has.

He presses closer without thinking, without meaning to, his forehead brushing against your shoulder, his hands curled near his chest.

And then, as if sensing the last of his hesitation, you shift just enough to pull him fully against you, wrapping your arms around him in a way that makes everything inside him unravel.

Loki breathes.

The tension eases from his body, the nightmare fading into nothing, the ghosts retreating into the shadows where they belong.

You hold him, just as you always do, your fingers tracing lazy, soothing patterns along his back. He feels your breath against his temple, soft and even, and for the first time in a long time, he lets himself relax.

His eyes grow heavy, his body warm, and then—

Sleep finds him.

And for the first time in years, there are no nightmares.

The morning sun filters through the curtains, golden and soft, chasing away the last remnants of night.

Loki stirs slowly, caught in that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, his mind still wrapped in warmth, in comfort, in you.

There is something different this time. Usually, when morning comes, he is awake before you, careful to slip away before you can stir, before you can see him in the vulnerable light of day.

But this morning, he does not move.

He is tangled in your limbs, his head resting against your chest, your arms still wrapped around him.

He does not want to move.

Your scent surrounds him, your warmth pressing against every inch of him, and for once, he allows himself to savor it.

His eyes flutter open just enough to catch the golden light spilling across the bed, the way your hair glows in the morning sun. You are still asleep, your breath slow and steady, your heartbeat a gentle rhythm beneath his ear.

And he is safe.

The thought settles in his chest, warm and unfamiliar, something he has never allowed himself to believe before.

And before he can stop himself, before his mind fully catches up with his body, the words slip out, slow and sleepy and utterly unguarded.

"I love you."

The words are barely above a whisper, a sigh against your skin, but you hear them.

Because you smile.

Loki does not see it at first, but he feels it—the shift in your body, the way your arms tighten around him just slightly, the way your breath catches for half a second before settling again.

And then, still drowsy, still wrapped in the warmth of morning, you murmur, "I know."

Loki freezes.

His breath catches in his throat, his body going rigid against you as his mind finally catches up with his words.

What has he done?

Panic rises in his chest, sharp and sudden. He had not meant to say it, had not meant to ruin this. He was supposed to keep it buried, to let it fester in silence where it could not hurt either of you.

But it is too late.

You know.

And then, just as he is about to pull away, just as the weight of his own foolishness threatens to crush him, you shift beneath him, tilting your head just slightly, pressing your lips to the top of his head in a touch so soft it makes him ache.

And then—

"I know," you whisper again, and this time, your voice is different.

He swallows hard, eyes squeezing shut, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

"No," he breathes, barely audible, as if saying it again will somehow change the meaning, make you understand the weight of it.

But you do.

You have always understood him better than anyone.

"I love you," he says again, more certain this time, more him, his voice rough from sleep and tangled in something too big to contain.

He feels you smile against his hair.

And then, gently, finally, you whisper, "I know."

And then you kiss him.

Loki stills, every thought in his mind vanishing into nothing as your lips press against his.

It is soft and slow, something delicate, something precious.

It is not hurried or desperate. It is intentional. Certain.

Your fingers brush against his jaw, tilting his face up to yours, deepening the kiss just enough to steal the breath from his lungs.

And Loki—Loki, who has spent his entire life running from things he cannot bear to lose—lets himself fall.

When you finally pull away, your forehead resting against his, Loki does not move. He cannot. His heart is still catching up with what just happened, his mind still drowning in the warmth of you.

You smile, pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before murmuring, "Took you long enough."

A breath of laughter escapes him, something he did not expect, something light and unguarded.

He presses his face back into the crook of your neck, exhaling slowly as the last of his fear dissolves into nothing.

"You are insufferable," he mumbles, but there is no heat behind the words, no bite.

Only love.

And this time, he does not try to hide it.

rain and regret ~ loki x f! reader

This fic is part of the In sickness and in health series! Where a lot of different favorite characters take turns to take care of you. 🧻🌡️🩹

masterlist faq

A/N; He's so fucking dramatic AAAAAAAAAA he's acting like you got the damn plague or something awful of the sort.

minors dni. i am not responsible for what you consume.

do not copy, translate or claim any of my stories as your own.

The rain starts suddenly, tapping gently on the floor-to-ceiling windows of the lounge. You glance up from your coffee. Thor notices the gleam in your eyes before Loki even lifts his head.

“No,” Loki says immediately.

“Yes,” you say, already standing.

Thor beams. “A storm! I shall join you!”

Loki groans, setting down his book. “You’re not children.”

You spin toward him at the door, dripping anticipation and glee. “Says you, the literal God of Mischief.”

Thor lets out a booming laugh. “She has you there, brother!”

Loki’s eye twitches.

“I wreak controlled mischief,” he mutters, folding his arms tighter. “Not puddle-soaked madness.”

You don’t even reply—you just sprint into the rooftop garden barefoot, arms open, hoodie bouncing, socks already soggy, Thor thundering after you.

The sleek stone paths are quickly covered in puddles, the air smells like ozone, and your laughter echoes through the Tower.

Thor crashes out behind you, shouting war cries as you chase him in circles through the wet grass and stone. You slip once—catch yourself and cackle like an absolute menace.

From the doors, Loki watches.

Arms crossed. Jaw tight. His silhouette sharp in the dim interior light.

“Absolutely unhinged,” he mutters. “Someone electrocuted her brain as a child.”

Eventually, soaked to the bone and breathless from laughter, you came stumbling back inside, trailing muddy footprints and giggling like you’d just outrun death.

Loki was waiting.

He didn’t say anything. Just walked forward, placed a towel on your head like a parent too tired to scold, and started patting your arms dry with another one.

“Happy?” he asked flatly.

“Ecstatic,” you beamed.

“Moron,” he replied gently.

Thor just let out a deep, satisfied sigh and said, “That was magnificent.”

“I swear to the Nine, if you fall ill—”

“I won’t,” you say, too fast.

He narrows his eyes. “You will.”

Later...

The room is dark and quiet. The rain still whispers against the windows.

You’re curled up in bed, shivering under layers of blankets, a tissue clutched in one hand and a cup of barely-sipped tea on the nightstand.

“I told you not to go out in the rain,” Loki says, arms folded, his voice sharp—defensive. But underneath it: worry.

“I was out there for five minutes,” you rasp.

You try to laugh. It comes out as a cough. Loki’s eyes flash with alarm.

Without another word, he kneels by the bed, his tone shifting from annoyed to concerned beyond comprehension.

“You mortals are so… fragile.” He brushes a strand of damp hair from your forehead, frowning. “Is this… normal? To look like you’ve been cursed by a frost giant and then claim you’re ‘fine’?”

You manage a weak smirk. “It’s just the flu, Your Highness.”

He glares at you, then stands and swishes his hand—suddenly the tea is steaming hot again, the pillows fluffier, the blanket heavier.

“Better,” he declares, smoothing the blanket over your chest. “You will rest. You will drink. You will not die of this absurd condition, or I swear I will enchant your immune system myself.”

“Is that a thing?”

“For you? I’ll make it a thing.”

Later, when you drift into a fitful sleep, Loki doesn’t leave.

He sits beside you, conjuring small spells of cooling mist for your forehead, whispering in Old Norse to soothe your dreams. When you stir, eyes hazy, he leans down and murmurs, barely audible:

“You must recover. I am not yet done loving you.”

The hallway is quiet.

Dimly lit by warm sconces and the faintest shimmer of magic, it feels like a dream as you step out, the blanket draped around your shoulders trailing behind you like a cape. You’re barefoot. Sniffling. Half-asleep. But your body noticed his absence, and that was enough to rouse you.

“Loki?” your voice is hoarse—barely above a whisper, soft like cracked porcelain. You sound like a Victorian ghost haunting the corridors of her lover’s estate.

You catch him off guard.

He’s seated on the floor, leaning against the wall, knees drawn up, a hand over his mouth. But not fast enough.

You see it. The shine in his eyes. The way he quickly wipes his cheeks with the heel of his palm, trying to make it look effortless. Like he wasn’t crying in the hallway over you.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he asks, standing swiftly, voice low and tight. “You shouldn’t be up.”

You shuffle toward him, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders. “What are you doing crying in the hallway?”

He falters.

“I’m just…” he swallows, hands twitching at his sides. “Worried. That’s all, my love.”

You blink at him, voice raspy as you deadpan, “Dude. It’s the flu. I’m not dying.”

He exhales a breathy, incredulous laugh—but there’s no mockery in it. Just relief. Just you. Standing there like a sleepy little gremlin, dragging your blanket like a train.

“I know that,” he says softly. “But it’s never... just the flu when it’s you.”

You step into him. He immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders, blanket and all. You melt into his chest like he’s gravity.

“I’ve seen gods fall,” he murmurs, lips brushing the top of your head. “But nothing ever felt as terrifying as watching you burn up and not being able to stop it.”

You tilt your head up, brow bumping his chin.

“You big softie.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” he mumbles into your hair. “It’ll ruin my brand.”

You smile.

“I’ll take it to the grave,” you whisper, before pulling him back toward the room. “Now come on, I need you to warm my feet before I freeze to death.”

You shuffle back to bed wrapped in your blanket like a burrito, sniffling but victorious for having made it down the hall and emotionally checked on your God of Meltdowns.

Loki helps you ease under the covers without a word, conjures a mug of tea with a flick of his fingers, and gently places it in your hands.

“Small sips,” he murmurs, crouching at the edge of the bed like a healer at your feet.

You raise a brow at him over the rim of your cup. “What, no lecture this time?”

His eyes flick to yours. “I think you’ve suffered enough.”

He says it lightly, but there’s something heavy in his voice.

You just drink your tea—warm, minty, a little sweet. He vanishes beneath the blankets to press his fingers around your feet. With a quiet spell, heat radiates gently through them.

You hum in response.

He gives a quiet snort, and then he’s moving again—slipping into bed on the other side of you, pulling you back against his chest in one slow, protective motion. His arms curl around your middle, locking you in like you’re the last thing holding him together. You don’t resist.

His forehead presses into the curve of your shoulder.

You breathe. He breathes with you.

His magic flickers again—faint, warm, steady. A soft buzz at your sternum, like he’s trying to anchor himself to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You wake up in the middle of the night, groggy and flushed. You’re not burning up, but you’re hot enough to feel gross, and the congestion has hit full force.

You let out a few rough coughs—not violent, but deep enough that your chest aches a little.

Loki stirs immediately beside you. He sits up halfway, one hand braced on the bed, the other gently touching your back.

“You’re alright?” he murmurs, sleep-rough and tense.

You nod weakly, coughing into the crook of your arm. “Just… stuffy. Gross.”

He watches you like he’s trying to read your pulse with his eyes alone. Then he exhales, brushing your hair from your forehead.

“Please don’t do that again,” he whispers. “Don’t go out in the rain like that. Don’t—don’t scare me like this.”

You blink at him. “Loki, I’m okay. It’s just a cold.”

“I know,” he says. But he doesn’t sound convinced. “I know.”

And then he lies back down and pulls you to him anyway, like he still needs proof that you’re alive and warm and real.

He presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed, like he’s trying to draw breath from you. As if your existence is what’s holding him together.

You fall asleep like that, wrapped in his arms, his magic pulsing faintly against your back.

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I've enjoyed writing it! If you need more comfort fics, check out the series linked at the top!

Would you like to join the taglist for this series? Comment below and you shall be magically added!

Shares, Reblogs, Likes and Comments help stories grow! I'm thankful for each one of them✨✨🩷

Unintentional

Pairing: Loki x shy!autistic!fem!reader

Summary: Accidentally getting caught up in a chain of events outside your control was not on your bucket list. But neither was working for SHIELD. Or being able to read the mind of a certain Asgardian captured by SHIELD…

Warnings/tags: Fluff, soft Loki, angst, reader hates their job, mind-reading, implied concussion, mention of stabbing, minor character death, mentions of injuries, probably OOC Loki? (I don't really know…), probably confusing dialogue, morally questionable SHIELD

A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't posted in so long, life's just been really busy lately.

*******************************************************************

Working for SHIELD was not on your bucket list. In fact, you didn't even know that the organisation existed until you'd dropped out of school, and started looking for work. You'd started as a lab intern, but you got promoted to lab assistant - and then you got onto SHIELD's radar.

In a good way, fortunately. You ended up getting a job there, and now you're one of the top lab assistants. You've worked with (well, for) some of the best scientists in the world. Some were nice, some not so nice, some just average.

Like your previous employer, Dr Selvig, who mysteriously disappeared quite recently.

And now you're stuck being a lab assistant to Dr Banner, who's probably the most dangerous person on the whole ship. Sure, he's not the worst scientist you've ever had to be a personal assistant to; in fact, he's actually really nice. One of the best, in fact.

Even so, you're pretty on edge around him. You're not the best with people, and the only reason you even agreed to the position of lab assistant in the first place was because, well, you thought that it would be only a few people that you'd have to interact with that would all be as awkward as you.

Unfortunately, that's not the case. Apparently, being a lab assistant also means acting as a mediator between the agents and the scientists - something you've never been great at, as it requires, well, people skills. Good people skills.

Fortunately, Dr Banner doesn't seem to be having any trouble like that, so far, and another guy's helping him out with whatever they're supposed to be doing (SHIELD is annoyingly 'hush-hush' about that sort of thing), which renders you pretty much useless as far as helping is concerned.

That's why you're glad that Banner lets you do pretty much whatever you like. He doesn't like being disturbed while he's working, he doesn't want to talk with the agents until he's found something of value - and that other guy, Sparks or something, is already playing assistant.

But still, knowing that he could lose control, and turn into a giant green rage monster at any point has been doing a pretty good job of keeping you on edge.

Sure, there's a dangerous guy locked up in the cage downstairs, who's apparently from another planet, and is ridiculously overpowered by all accounts, but - he's locked up. Banner isn't. And - well, you don't really know how the whole Hulk thing works. Does he get a nasty mood swing that turns him into Hulk? Is it under immense stress? Or does it just come on randomly?

One of the advantages of having pretty much free rein on a SHIELD hideout is that you can find out some pretty interesting stuff about the history of SHIELD, past cases, etc., and if anyone asks, you can just say it's for your job. It's just unfortunate that you aren't allowed to use your knowledge in trivia quizzes, and have to play clueless like other people.

"L/N? Where are you going?" You bite back a groan as you turn around.

It's just unfortunate that Agent Romanoff's seen you leaving the lab. You've never really been sure what to make of her. She's never been overtly mean to you, but she does have a habit of sticking her nose into your business, which you find kind of annoying, especially as you're a fairly private person.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping Dr Banner?" she asks.

You have to fight the urge to sigh. "He doesn't want to be disturbed while he's working."

"You should still stick around, though."

You shake your head. "He told me he doesn't like having people hovering over him unless they're actually helping."

Romanoff considers this for a moment, before nodding. "Okay, well, I actually have a job for you. I know it's not exactly in your skill-set, but - well, we still don't know what Loki's planning to do, so I need you to go and talk to him for me, see if he lets anything slip about his plans."

You nod. "Yes, Agent."

As you walk off, your mind's racing. I've got to talk to Loki, the second most dangerous person on the entire ship, a guy so powerful that it took the combined efforts of Sparks, Richards, Romanoff, and a couple others to even capture him? What if he attacks me? What if he gets inside my head? What if-

"L/N?"

Wonderful.

It's Agent Hill. "What are you doing?"

"An errand for Agent Romanoff."

You're surprised at how quickly her manner becomes more approving when she hears Romanoff's name. This could be a get-out-of-jail-free card for the next time I get caught snooping!

But even after that delightful discover, you're still very nervous by the time you reach the cage where Loki's being held, so much so that you end up debating with yourself about whether to even open the door.

Come on, Y/N, you have to open the door. You have to talk to him.

But he's dangerous! He might kill me!

He's in a cage that'll drop out of the helicarrier if he tries to break it, much less attack you.

But the mechanism might fail!

There's a button on the control pad that you can press that will do the exact same thing.

I don't want to do this!

Look, you promised Agent Romanoff you'd do it. You don't have to stay very long. Just ask him a couple questions, and then run away. You don't even have to stay to hear his answer; they can probably see him on the security cameras anyway.

Even so, for all your rationalising, you're still pretty scared when you finally push the door open, and step inside.

Maybe he won't hear me if I keep quiet. Maybe I can jumpscare him.

No such luck. Loki snaps his head around the minute you step inside.

He's actually a lot less scary-looking than you imagined he'd be.

Well, apart from his eyes. They're a glowing, unnatural blue that reminds you eerily of that weird spear-scimitar hybrid that Sparks and Banner are working on.

You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your lungs are struggling to fill with air, making you hyperventilate.

What am I even supposed to ask him? 'Hi, how's your day going? Oh, and by the way, could you very kindly tell me what exactly your plans are for invading Earth?'

Bang!

You jump back as Loki slams his fist on the glass.

"How did you get into my head?" he hisses.

Your first instinct would have been to run away, but you're so terrified that you can barely think straight, let alone run away.

He thumps the glass again. "Answer me!"

Tears begin to fill your eyes, partly from the shock, but also from his manner. You can see now why he's so dangerous; he can be absolutely terrifying when he wants to be.

"I - I don't know what you're talking about," you gasp, trying hard to hold back your tears.

"Don't lie to me." Loki's voice is quieter now, but more menacing. "Tell me how you got into my head!"

"I didn't!" Your voice is getting more and more high-pitched. "I swear!"

"Then why did I hear your voice while your lips weren't moving?"

"You can read thoughts?"

"When I choose to."

So he didn't-

"Why would I bother myself with the thoughts of a mere mortal?"

Darn. I forgot he could read thoughts.

"I'm not trying to read your thoughts, mortal," snaps Loki. "Now would you say something?"

You open your mouth, but it's completely dry, so you close it again, while trying to work out what you're going to say.

Then a wave of anger hits you.

You know what? you decide. Screw Romanoff. Screw Fury. Screw SHIELD. I'm sick of them, pretending like they're better than everyone else just because they work for the government.

You can tell Loki's listening in, but you don't care. Let him listen. Let him hear exactly what goes on inside my head.

"Tell me about yourself," says Loki suddenly, in a much more civil tone than before. "How did you start working for SHIELD?"

I got too good at my job, so Fury forced me to work for him. Outwardly, you say, "It was an internship."

Loki nods. "What do you want from me?"

Well, not from you specifically, but I'd quite like to quit this job, and go back to being a civilian. "Why… why would I tell you that?"

Loki just smirks. "I think you know why, mortal."

I don't want to tell you.

Loki chuckles. "Don't you trust me?"

I don't know who to trust anymore. "Why would I trust someone fighting the organisation I work for?"

Loki's suddenly serious. "Do you trust SHIELD?"

I thought I did. But after I read the files… "Of course." You're shocked at how easily the lie slips off your tongue. What have I become?

"L/N!"

It's Fury. And he looks like he's living up to his name quite well.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Your mind goes blank for a moment. "Uh… Romanoff asked me to interrogate Loki."

"Well, it doesn't look much like an interrogation to me. Seems like Loki's doing most of the asking."

Maybe there's different types. "Well - I'm - I'm going to ask him questions."

Fury sighs. "Fine. Just - don't get too close. He's a master of manipulation, L/N. He'll get inside your head, if you let him."

Well, I wasn't letting him. "Yes, sir."

After he's left, you turn back to Loki with a sigh. "Where were we?"

L/N, I need you to pay attention to me. In a few minutes, Barton will be breaking in with enemies of SHIELD, who work for me. I need you to stay low, draw as little attention to yourself as possible. Stay near me if you can. And get rid of that uniform, or they will kill you.

You try hard to keep your emotions in check. Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?

There's no time to explain. Are you with me or not?

You consider for a moment. What has SHIELD ever done for me? For any of its agents? I don't even like the organisation, so why…

Loki sighs. What have you to lose?

Everything, if you lose. But… you know what? Screw SHIELD. I was planning to leave them anyway, at least once this mission was over, so why not leave now?

Loki smirks. "You have no questions for me, L/N?"

It's Y/N. "I did, but then Fury interrupted, and I forgot."

"Well, I'd rather like to hear some questions, all the same." What do you have to offer me, Y/N? I'm not doing this purely out of the goodness of my heart.

If we fail, I act as a double-double agent, and see if I can get you the lightest sentence possible. You'd still be incarcerated for a while, but it would be shorter than life - and better than going to the electric chair. If we succeed - well, I'm not sure. "How - how old are you?"

Loki chuckles again. "What a silly question. I am around one thousand and fifty years old - which is equivalent to around twenty-one of your years." That sounds fair enough.

How do I know you'll keep your word? "Um - well - do you have any siblings?"

"A brother. His name's Thor. You may have seen him." I promise to you, Y/N, on all I hold dear, I will protect you.

Cross your heart? "The blonde guy carrying the big hammer?"

Loki nods. "Yes." Cross my heart?

It's a kind of promise. Cross my heart, hope to die. Or you could swear on your mother's life. "Well - um… he mentioned you were adopted."

"That's correct." Well, if it makes you feel better - cross my heart, hope to die. But I already promised on my mother's life.

And you'll keep that promise? "How old were you when you were adopted?"

"I was a baby." I will.

Should I leave? "So, like, a birth adoption?"

Loki shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about it." No, stay here. You'll be safer near me.

But what about my uniform? "Well - um…"

"No more questions, hm? You don't seem to have learned very much about me." When I get out, I can cast an illusion to hide your uniform.

Should I help you break out? "Well, I learned a bit about your family and childhood. That's something, right?"

"But you still have no idea of my plans." Do you know how?

I think I could figure it out. Or Barton could get you out. "That's true…"

Crash!

The whole aircraft gives a massive shudder, the impact knocking you to the floor.

For a moment, you're dazed, unsure what to do next.

Looking up, you see that the security cameras around the cage are broken. Not that it matters whether anyone sees you now.

Struggling to your feet, you stagger to the control panel, and try to figure out which button to press to open the cage.

After trying a few random buttons, which fortunately do nothing untoward, you find the right one, and press it.

Stepping out, Loki takes a long look at you, before putting his hand on your shoulder.

"There," he says softly. "You should be safe now. Just stay with me."

Looking down, you see that your SHIELD uniform is gone, replaced by plain black clothes. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet. Do you have a weapon?"

You shake your head. "I'm not allowed."

Loki points to your belt. "You are now."

That's when you realise there's a holster on your belt - with a gun in it. Taking it out, you take a good look at the gun. You don't know very much about guns, but it looks pretty powerful.

"Come on," mutters Loki. "We can't just stand here."

"Sorry," you mumble, hastily putting the gun back into the holster.

You feel Loki tense behind you before you hear the heavy footsteps entering the room.

Stay still.

You obey without question, your mouth dry, as you watch Loki cast an illusion.

"No!"

Clang!

It's Loki's brother, Thor. And he's locked in the cage.

"Are you ever not going to fall for that?"

Loki's words make you want to laugh. Despite everything, it seems that he and Thor still have a sibling dynamic.

"Brother-" Thor's voice is low, threatening.

An illusion of Loki walks up to the control panel. "The humans think us immortal. Should we test that?"

In desperation, Thor throws his hammer at the cage wall. It manages to crack the glass, but then the bars holding the cage in place start to give way.

Loki's hand hovers over the button, ready to press it.

"Move away, please."

You turn, and - oh, of all the miserable luck!

It's Coulson. And he's holding a pretty lethal-looking weapon.

"You like this? It's a prototype we started working on after you sent the Destroyer to Earth. I don't even know what it does, but I'm pretty interested in finding out."

Loki begins to back away - and then disappears.

The real Loki appears behind Coulson, stabbing him in the chest.

"No!" yells Thor.

Ignoring him, Loki walks over to the control panel, and pushes the button.

You have to suppress an audible gasp as Thor is thrown out of the aircraft.

Loki gestures to you. "Come on."

You obey, scuttling up to him, trying not to look at Coulson's body, which is now slumped on the floor.

"You're going to lose."

Both you and Loki turn around to see that Coulson's still alive.

Loki lets out a soft laugh. "Am I?"

"It's in your nature."

Loki shakes his head. "Your heroes are scattered; your floating fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?"

"You lack conviction."

"I don't think I-"

Bang!

Coulson fires his weapon, which sends you and Loki flying through the wall.

Fortunately, Loki was standing in front of you, and took the brunt of the blast, but you're still in a lot of pain, and you're pretty sure you've cracked some ribs.

"Y/N!" Loki gets up, and rushes towards you. "Are you alright?"

You nod. We should go.

"Come." Loki helps you up.

You're grateful for his concern, but you're not planning on telling him how you really feel. Not yet, anyway. Your whole body hurts, which makes you wonder if you're more injured than you first thought. Maybe the adrenaline's masking it.

Your suspicions are confirmed when your knee buckles, nearly sending you down a flight of stairs.

Loki catches you before you can fall. He gives you a look, but picks you up in his arms without a word.

You nearly yelp at the unfamiliar sensation, but you're grateful for the support. You're pretty much certain that you're badly hurt, and you doubt you could have gone the rest of the way by yourself.

A jet's waiting for you when you finally get out of the aircraft.

Loki's still holding you as he steps onto the jet, maneuvering you onto his lap as he sits down.

As the jet takes off, Loki gives a few orders, before turning his attention back to you.

Let's have no more lying, please, he begins, rather sternly. Now, how do you really feel?

You stare at the floor. I don't know. I know I'm injured, but…

Loki's face softens slightly. I'll get a medic to see to you once we land. You do need to rest, so just try to relax for now.

You try to do as he says, but it feels kind of weird. It's been a long time since you've had this much physical contact, even longer since you've sat on someone's lap, and even longer since you've been held in someone's arms.

Loki…

Yes?

Why are you helping me? I'm literally supposed to be a SHIELD agent. Or are you just taking me hostage for ransom or something?

Loki sighs, shifting you into a more comfortable position. I'm not taking you hostage, sweet. Look, Y/N, I know you won't believe me, but - I really am helping you - I really want to help you. But I can't tell you why. Not yet, anyway.

Couldn't you tell me at least one reason?

Loki's mouth turns up slightly. Well, it's been a long time since someone confided in me.

But what about your brother? Hasn't he confided in you before?

Not for a long time. Loki's arms tighten around you as the jet dips. And listen, once this is over, I will tell you why I'm helping you. But for now, you need to trust me.

Well, I don't really have much of a choice, do I? I'm injured, you're about a hundred times stronger than me, and I'm in a jet with a load of guys who'll kill me if I attack you.

Loki brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes. You should rest. I doubt you could attack even a human right now, let alone me.

Sighing, you close your eyes, and rest your head on his shoulder, suddenly feeling very tired. Your whole body's really hurting now, and it's getting difficult to breathe, but you're too exhausted to care.

You're painfully jolted awake when the jet lands.

You hear Loki curse under his breath. "Are you alright?" he asks you.

You're too tired to respond.

Answer me. Are you hurt?

I don't know. Leave me alone…

You feel Loki's hand rest on your forehead, before moving down to cup your cheek. "We need to get you to a healer."

And then everything goes black.

*****************************************************************

Part 2

As always, I do not give permission for anyone to copy my work, post it elsewhere, etc.

It's Okay Darling. It's Okay.

Loki Laufeyson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You feel very overwhelmed and start to have a panic attack, but Loki is there to calm you down.

Word Count: 507

Content Warning: Mentions of feeling overwhelmed and Panic Attacks, fluff and light hearted.

A/N: This is my very first post. I'm excited to see what you guys think, and please let me know what you guys want to see in the future. More to Come! ;)

My Main Masterlist

My Avenger Stories Masterlist

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶

I am having the worst day possible.

You sit there crying in your dress covering your face with pale hands. It has been one overwhelming night.

I can't take it anymore.

There is too much talking. Too much noise. Too much going on. You feel as if you're about to explode. You notice your breathing starts to pick up.

No..No..nonono…

You're starting to panic.

This isn't good, I have to get out of here.

You heaved yourself from the stairs you formally planted yourself on, and made your way out of the ballroom as fast as your legs could.

This isn't fast enough...Get out…GET OUT

Fully booking it not caring what anybody thinks anymore.

I'm tired of pretending.

You make your way to the gardens. It's your favorite place on the palace grounds. Usually, it calms you down anytime you feel anxious, but this time it wasn't one of them. The flora and fauna surrounding the landscapes were beautiful. Ivy growing up the walls, and flowers everywhere the eyes could see.

Why won't my breathing slow down?

Your vision starts to blur and you can no longer pick out what is the sky and what are the flowers growing among you. You feel lightheaded.

I'm going to pass out.

Suddenly, you hear something. It sounds like a voice but you can't make out what it's saying or where it is coming from. You jump when you see a figure and feel familiar hands on your own.

“Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?” You knew that voice.

“Loki?”

“Yes, it’s me darling.” He says as he squeezes your hands.

You breathe what was supposed to be a sigh of release, but ends up being mixed away through your panic attack.

“L..lo..loki?” You croak out, your voice so tiny, that Loki has to lean in to hear it.

“Yes, darling?”

“I can't breathe.” You start sobbing harder.

He moves from his crouched position on the ground to a seat next to you on the bench you had found. He pulls you into his lap and starts hugging you. 

“It's okay darling. You're having a panic attack. I want you to breathe in when I breathe in, and I want you to breathe out when I breathe out. Okay?” He asks.

You couldn't answer verbally, so you just shocked your head showing he understood.

You feel his chest rising, so you take a deep breath in. His chest started to fall, so you let the deep breath out. In. Out.

You sat there for a couple of minutes until Loki saw that you were in a calmer state.

“Feel better?” 

“Yes. Thank you.” You hugged him back.

“Anytime darling. Anytime.” He responds, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You place your head in the crook between his shoulder and his head listening carefully to his heartbeat. He sets his cheek down on your head lightly and gently rubs your back with his thumb. Everything was okay again.

“Can we just stay like this forever?”

“I'm yours always.”

Hi love 🖤

I want to start by congratulating you on reaching 100 followers; you deserve every single one! 🥳

Second of all, I would love to make a request for your celebration, and this one will be for none other than our most wonderful God of Mischief, Loki! 💚

This story can be as either a regular or best friend or partner, whichever you think fits best with this story! But since Loki is of course the God of Mischief, what would a prank war with him look like?

Him and Reader pranking each other in a lot of different ways, all with the goal of making everyone laugh of course, we don't want anyone to intentionally get hurt during this!

I can't wait to see where you're going to take this idea, and once again, congratulations on reaching this wonderful milestone 🖤

Loki x Reader

A/N Firstly, I want to say thanks for your support xoxo. Secondly, thanks for the ask and I was very excited when I first saw it. I hope I write Loki's character right since I love him but have never written for him before. I also decided to make Loki and the reader a couple and I only used he/him pronouns for Loki but I am aware that Loki is genderfluid so next time I write a fic I will make sure to include that. This is a part of my 100 followers celebration and likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Summary

DO NOT REPOST ONTO ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff

Loki was the God of mischief. There was no doubt about that and he even carried his mischievous tendencies into your relationship. That was why there was an unnofficial prank war going on between both of you. 

It all started when Loki set up a flour bomb but used his powers to mask it which made it invisible. 

You were thinking of a way to trick Loki and decided on hiding all his books. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

“Do you know where my books are darling?” Loki asked you.

“No babe,” you responded, trying to stop yourself from smiling.

“Ok,” he replied.

A few minutes later, he walked back into the room, “Are you sure you don’t know where any of my books are my love?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I told you I don’t know, you must have misplaced them,” you shrugged.

“I can’t have misplaced seven books darling,” he told you with his right eyebrows raised.

He looked around everywhere in the living room and walked back out in search of his ‘misplaced books’.

Once you knew he had gone, you took the books out from under the couch and placed them in a pile on the coffee table.

“My love, where on this god forsaken planet have you put my books,” Loki asked, walking back into the room.

“They’re on the coffee table love,” you said, desperately trying to hold in your laugh.

Loki huffed and looked at the coffee table where his books were.

“I can assure you my love, the books weren’t there earlier,” he stated, crossing his arms again but this time he had a smile on his face.

This made your facade crack and you burst out laughing.

“Do you think this is funny darling?” he questioned, walking over to you on the couch.

He leaned over and started to tickle you, “I won’t stop until you apoligose my love.” 

“I-I’m sorry b-babe,” you weezed out.

Loki stopped tickling you and gave you a chassed kiss.

“It was payback for the flour bomb,” you told him.

“So does that mean you declare a war,” he proposed.

“Yes. I am declaring a prank war,” you said, crossing your arms and sitting up straight.

“You’re going to regret this love. You’re messing with the God of Mischeif,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I can take you,” you declared.

“It’s official then,” Loki announced.

“I think we need to officially seal it though,” you said.

“How do you suppose we do that?” Loki inquired.

“I think we should kiss to seal the deal.” 

“That sound fair.” 

You kissed Loki and then he picked his books up and left the room. 

--------------------------------------------------------

It had been a few days since you had declared a prank war on Loki and you both haddn’t made a move yet. That was until today.

Loki knew you enjoyed baking on the weekends so he decided to prank you today.

He grabbed the carton of six eggs and took them out of the fridge. He filled a pan with water and put it on the hob he turned on a few minutes prior. Then, he put the eggs in when the water was boiling and waited until he knew they were hard-boiled. 

Although Loki was unskilled in the kitchen due to his upbringing, he was still taught some basic skills and one of them happened to be boiling eggs.

Loki took the eggs out of the pan and waited for them to cool down before putting them back in the carton. 

He cleared his tracks and started to make coffee and pancakes for both of you.

As he was halfway through flipping pancakes, you walked into the kitchen and wrapped your arms around him. 

You kissed his back before saying, “good morning babe.” 

“Good morning love, how did you sleep?” 

“It was alright, and you?” you grabbed your coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

“I always sleep well when you’re in bed,” his response was a little too kind compared to his usual responses.

Loki wasn’t mean to you -he was far from it- but he usually pulled that line out if he felt particularly cuddly or if you went to sleep mad at each other (which was an infrequent occurrence), making it seem more out of place.

You just shrugged it off and carried on with your morning as usual.

At around 12 o’clock, you turned to Loki on the couch and asked if you had any eggs he responded that you did so you decided to bake a cake for the two of you.

Loki had been acting weird all morning but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You concluded that he wasn’t feeling too good (mentally or physically) so baking would allow you to give him space and make him something he enjoys.

You got all the ingredients out and started to measure them. Once that was done, you mixed the butter and sugar together before reaching over to the eggs. You grabbed the first one and tried to crack it on the side of the bowl. 

You were extremely confused when only the shell cracked. Without thinking, you reached for another egg but the same thing happened. You looked a little closer and peeled the shell off. 

That’s when you realised why Loki had been acting strange all morning.

You walked into the living room with the two eggs and saw Loki reading a book. You strolled over and grabbed the book out of his hand which made Loki smirk. 

“So you found my little surprise my darling.”

“Yeah I did,” you retorted, putting both hands on your hips, “Do we actually have any eggs or have you boiled them all?” 

“Theres a spare carton of eggs hidden behind the cheese and yoghurts.”

“I’m gonna get you back for this,” you assured him.

“Oh, I’m sure you will love,” he almost whispered, to which you responded by putting your middle finger up at him as you walked out the room.

I’m considering doing part two because I have a few different prank ideas, but I don’t want to make this fic too long. Idk about you guys but I have a shit attention span which means I struggle to read longer fics but if that is what you want then comment below and I will make fics longer in the future.

If you want to be tagged whenever I post a fic then click on the link

If you want to see what I repost, my other account is @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

Taglist:@nicoline1998enilocin, @hisredheadedgoddess28, @kandis-mom, @nekoannie-chan