#loki day

yepeeee happy Loki daaayyy!!!!

‼️ FREAKING ‼️

‼️ BIRTHDAY ‼️

‼️ TO ‼️

‼️ THIS ‼️

little

‼️ meow meow‼️

‼️ love u sweetie ‼️

Fandom: The Avengers/MCU

Relationship: Loki/Reader

Drabble: Loki is forced to accept the things he cannot change.

Note: Happy Loki Day! I am so sorry.

~*~*~*~*~ 

They tried to pry him from your bedside, but to no avail.  

Natasha tried first using soft encouragements, and she received a growl for her efforts.  

Later came Steve with firm commands, and he came away with knowledge of ancient Norse curses he never expected to learn.  

Lastly came Thor who tried to move Loki with force, and he received a broken wrist. It healed quickly enough, but Thor got the message.  

Despite all their efforts, Loki remained a stalwart guardian. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just kept watch. His vigilance over your sleeping body quickly became an accepted fact. The nurses and medical staff learned to work around him, and most of the time they didn’t even acknowledge him. He was more than fine with that. 

He watched over you, his hands grasping one of yours. He waited with bated breath to see your chest rise and fall over and over again. The continued movement filled him with unspeakable relief. It was proof that in spite of your injuries, you were still there. That you were still fighting.  

When you were brought to the infirmary, they had thrown around a lot of words and terminology that Loki was not familiar with. Then he grabbed the doctor by the throat and told him to speak plainly, and he got some real answers.  

They had done everything they could, and now they just needed to wait for you to wake up. However, the longer that took, the less likely it was that you would wake up. So, Loki sat by your bedside and waited.  

And waited.  

And waited.  

The nurses and medical staff began to look at him, to give him pitying glances. He heard the whispers, even when they tried to keep it from his ears.  

“-too long-”  

“-abysmal chances-” 

“-someone has to tell him-” 

Loki did his best to ignore them all. He pointedly kept his gaze on your unconscious form, refusing to let their words get to him. You would wake up. You had too. Because if you didn’t Loki didn’t know how he would-  

No, there was no reason to think of that. You would wake up.  

In the infirmary there were no windows, and no clocks. When superheroes were injured, they tended to worry about healing fast so they could rejoin the fight for good or whatever. So, the chief of the medical staff of the tower decided to make the rooms as removed from time as possible. Loki had no idea how long it had been, or whether the sun was up outside.  

The only thing he knew was the steady rhythm of your chest rising and falling with each breath.  

He looked down at where his hand held yours. Despite his fervent denial, he knew your chances were not looking good. At least you looked peaceful, more peaceful than he had ever seen you.  

“I know it’s rather tempting.” The words began to fall from his lips before he realized he was speaking. “The light at the end of the tunnel, or whatever it is your mortals think is waiting for you. It must be enticing, especially after all the pain and hardships you’ve faced here. But I’ll tell you what isn’t on the other side. Me.”   

He held your hand a little tighter as he looked up at your sleeping face. “I’m here, very much alive, and I will be for quite some time, my love. So, if you have any hopes of us reuniting in your afterlife, know that I will keep you waiting for a very long time. Especially if you leave me now, I will go out of my way to stay alive as long as possible. You know I can do it. You know how spiteful I can be, darling. If you die on me now, I will make you wait thousands of years to see me again.”  

Some part of him hoped that his threats would do the trick. That your beautiful eyes would flutter open and that you would look at him and smile. But that wasn’t the case. You continued to sleep. However, talking made Loki feel better. After days of silence, it felt good to get these feelings off his chest. 

“Who else am I going to make snide comments to during staff meetings? Thor? You wouldn’t condemn me to such a fate, would you?” He smiled slightly, picturing the way you would roll your eyes at him if you were conscious. “Who will I wrap my arms around at night and subject to my cold toes? Who will I talk to about everything we’ve done all day?” He asked, but you still did not respond to him.  

You just continued to sleep with that peaceful look on your face. He felt like you were slipping through his fingers. With every second that passed, and your eyes remained closed Loki felt like a failure. He gripped your hand even tighter, as a wave of determination filled him.  

“You don’t have a choice here, darling,” Loki growled. “You will wake up and you will do it right this moment. You cannot die, I won’t allow it.”  

His voice broke as unwanted tears began to cloud his vision. In all the time he spent by your bedside, he had not cried once.  

“I need you.”  

He let his head fall towards your bed, his forehead pressed against your stomach and his hands gripping your hips. The tears soaked your white blanket but he didn’t care. He let his grief and his pain wash over him, as his wall of denial crumbled around him.  

He held you like you were his salvation because in many ways you were. His solace, his comfort, his love. Everything truly. Now he had to let you go, and that cut him deeply.

He let out a soul cleansing sob, just in time for him to feel fingers brushing through his hair. 

Fandom: The Avengers/MCU

Relationship: Loki/Reader

Drabble: Loki tries to get ready for a meeting, and he finds you stole his favorite sweater.

Note: Happy Loki Day! This week has been hell, so enjoy something short and sweet!

~*~*~*~*~

If someone told Loki he would one day fall madly in love with a mortal and marry them, he would have laughed in their face. He was Loki, Prince of Asgard. There was no way a mortal could bring him to his knees.

Then he met you and on those knees he fell.

To quote a certain Spider Boy, Loki was a “major simp” when it came to you.

Anything you wanted, Loki would find a way to get it for you. Most of the time, you didn’t even have to finish asking him. He would be on his feet and ready to go the second you opened your mouth. Loki would do anything for you and give you anything.

Well, almost anything.

“Darling…” he drawled. “Is that my sweater?”

You looked down at the sweater you were wearing guiltily. “According to our wedding vows, everything I have is yours and everything you have is mine. So, this is our sweater.”

Loki blinked slowly as he processed your logic. “I was talking about my throne, my heart, and my soul. Not my favorite sweater.”

“Tough shit.” You smirked. “Probably should have been more specific.”

Loki frowned as he crossed his arms. “I was going to wear that today.”

“So, conjure another one. We can match.”

“It’s not the same.” Loki pouted. “It’s my sweater. I can magic you another one.”

You shook your head. “Nope. I’m wearing this today.”

Loki thought for a moment when an idea popped into his head. He slowly uncrossed his arms, a playful grin on his lips as he approached you.

“Don’t,” you warned him. You did your best to repress the smile on your lips as you took a step back.

Loki chuckled softly. “The solution is simple, love.” He took another step forward; this time his hands fell to your hips, squeezing lightly. “We both want the shirt, it’s only fair that neither of us have it.”

“Fair?” you asked. “You’re the god of trickery and mischief, what do you care of fairness?”

Loki hummed thoughtfully. “True, but what can I say? Love has changed me.”

Before you could come up with a quick remark, Loki slotted his lips over yours. The kiss was insistent, and you had no choice but to give in. His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly against him. You parted your lips for him, feeling his triumphant smirk. There was no escaping Loki, not even if you had wanted to.

By the time his hands curled around the hem of your sweater, you were desperate for him to take it off you. He pulled the offending fabric up and over your head in one swift motion. The chilly morning air brushed over your newly exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Loki’s eyes raked over your frame, his gaze hungry and proud. “I much prefer you like this, darling.” He all but purred.

You stepped forward to kiss him again, but Loki held up one finger, pressing it against your already parted lips.

“But not right now,” Loki said in a hushed tone. “I’m late for a meeting.”

All your lust quickly evaporated as he slipped the sweater he had just peeled off your body onto his own.

“That’s not fair,” you complained, knowing how childish you sounded.

“You said it yourself, love. I’m the god of trickery and mischief,” he repeated your own words back to you with a wicked grin. “What do I care for fairness?”

After giving you a quick and infuriating peck on the cheek, Loki dashed out the door. Leaving you to stew in your frustration. You had to admit he won that round.

But you knew you would get revenge on your loving husband soon enough.

(Except for us non-americans)

Fandom: The Avengers/MCU

Relationship: Loki/Reader

Words: 1,205

Summary: Loki sees his hunger as a weakness, something to be starved. Not to be indulged.

Note: HAPPY LOKI DAY! We are cutting it close with this one! In truth, I wrote half of it on my lunch break, and the other half when I got home after drinking whisky on an empty stomach. Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~

It had started so simply that Loki hadn’t even realized it was happening.

A touch of the arm here, a brush of hands there.

You had single-handedly woken a hunger in him that he thought was long dead. A hunger he thought had been beaten out of him ages ago. It was such a simple desire, but a glaringly obvious weakness. A weakness he did his best to hide.

At first, he could deny it, your hands were the ones that had healed him after the Battle of New York. Your rejuvenating powers had flowed from your fingertips into his skin and given him relief he had not thought possible. Of course, he would seek your touch. It was simple psychology. Who would not take comfort in something that stopped their pain?