#captinmarvel

Loki Stans:

Random guy- “wait so what’s ur gender, girl or boy or what??”

A/n~ just a little Loki fluff!

Warnings: none

Summary: Some instances that Loki hints to reading your confession, pertaining your feeling for him.

It all started when he found the letters. The letters that had no intention of revealing themselves to anyone but their owner. But to their credit, a little mischief can be very persuasive.

I walked into the kitchen and my breath hitched. There he was, with bedhead and pajama pants low on his hips, trying, but very obviously failing to make pancakes. It was so very heart-meltingly cute. His brows were furrowed into the creases of his forehead, mouth open the tiniest bit, deep in concentration. He had gotten some the broken eggshell into the batter, trying to fish them out. There were ingredients, strange pastes, and utensils absolutely everywhere.

I longed to go over there and, god, I don’t know, touch him? Something. My mind very obviously wanted me to do something. But he was so focused, I hated to disturb him.

“Hello,” Loki said, straining his voice in an effort to speak coherently. He had finished picking the shells out of his concoction and turned on his heel, wiping his hands on his thighs. It took me a beat to answer, eyes focusing in on every movement of his.

“Oh, yes. Hello. Early riser?” I gestured to quite frankly impressive amount of almost-pancakes around the kitchen. It must have taken him hours to accumulate this big of a mess.

“Hmm, yes. I suppose you could say that,” Loki chucked, looking around him to survey the damage.

“I read somewhere that comfort food helps with unsettled stomachs. I asked Steve for his favorite example and he gave me pancakes,” Loki explained.

“If you have an unsettled stomach shouldn’t you be making Asgardian comfort food?” I questioned, tilting my head to the side.

“Oh darling,” Loki took a step closer to me. “It’s not my stomach that I’m concerned about.” He came close, leaning in to speak into my ear. “By the way, you have beautiful handwriting.” Loki brushes past, leaving me with no time to question and an excited feeling tickling my skin.

Dear Loki Laufyson,

You make me feel unsettled, but in a good way. I feel alive when you touch me. It fills me with energy. I’m left to think about it days afterwards.

“Going somewhere?” Loki came up from behind, startling me. I had my hands in the air, scarf in tow.

“Yes, actually. I was about to go to the park,” I said, reaching for the finishing piece of my ensemble, a grey knit hat, when Loki spoke again, his warm breath hitting the shell of my ear.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, patiently awaiting my answer.

“Of course, but be warned, I might take a few unexpected detours,” I replied hastily, my heartbeat increasing.

Loki started removing his hands from his sides to grab his coat, which I was firmly planted in front of. He pressed himself against my back, making me freeze.

“Can we pick up some bread? I would love to feed to the ducks,” Loki asked casually as he slowly peeled himself away. I hadn’t answered.

“Well?” Loki said, waiting, not very patiently, for my response.

“O-oh yeah sure, that sounds fun,” my mouth managed to stammer out. Loki started walking immediately after that, making me have to jog a few steps to catch up.

“So, do you write much?”

Dear Loki Laufyson,

I wish that you would press your body up against mine. I want to feel every curve, scar, callus, and edge that you have to offer.

I was sitting on the couch in the common room, reading a cheesy romance novel. The type that they sell at drugstores and airports.

“Hey,” Loki walked in, carrying a box.

“Hi,” I said, not looking up from my book. They get a bad rap from the truly horrible book covers, but you gotta give them a little credit, they pass the time.

“I brought something for you.”

That got my attention. I looked up to see a now-clearly wrapped rectangular box.

“I am in no way complaining, but… why? What is this for? It’s not Christmas yet, as far as I know. Is this an Asgardian holiday? Because I’d be happy to celebrate with you if you give me some information about it,” you assured him, trying to make him feel included and valued.

“No, I simply thought of you when I saw it.” He held the gift out for me to take it. It was wrapped in glittery gold tissue paper, making it easy to tear into. All of the edges were perfect, showcasing the amount of care that went into it. I finally brought myself to take a peek at its contents, my curiosity spurred by the unprecedented spontaneity.

Without the paper she’ll, it was a long sleek box that wasn't too heavy. It had a white logo on the lid with a Latin name I could pronounce if I tried. The top slid off easily, revealing the brown pheasant feather quill, along with some black ink.

Loki was watching my every move with his steely blue gaze as I picked it up by the metal nub and twirled it around, my book long forgotten.

“Loki…” I started. He was hanging on to my every word, feeding on them hungrily.

“Thank you so much. I’ve always wanted to use one of these, but I’m ashamed to say that I’ve never learned how.” I took a break from looking at it in admiration to gaze at Loki.

“Well, that’s alright. I’ll just have to teach you,” he said with a smile.

Dear Loki Laufyson,

I want passion, yes, but I also want moments of sweet domesticity. People say life’s about the little things, right?

I was in the library, disrupting the silence with my piano playing. I learned as a child and still come back to it from time to time.

Loki appeared next to me, so I scooted over on the piano bench, making room for him to sit. He did so, and pulled my hand of the keyboard, interlacing fingers in his own. I turned to face him, submitting my other hand.

Dear Loki Laufyson…

“So, I’ve been thinking of telling you something I’ve been a little nervous about,” he stared deep I to my eyes, as if I were the i it person that mattered.

“And what could that be,” I muttered back.

Dear Loki Laufyson,

I have a crush on you…

“I’ve been having…feelings, for you.” He squeezed my hand tighter, as if to prevent me from leaving.

“Romantic ones?” I asked.

“Romantic ones.”

“Well, aren't you lucky.”

Dear Loki Laufyson,

Shut up and kiss me.

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