Fictitious Frost Giants { Loki x Reader }

Head Gear

The next morning you awoke unceremoniously and found yourself (surprisingly) still snuggled up on your love seat. Tossing blankets left and right upon noticing the heat had come back on during the night and you were immensely sweaty, you sprawled out on the chair only to get up a few moments later. Dragging with you a thin blanket, you sluggishly headed into the kitchen. This wasn't for food however, as good as breakfast did sound.

Moments later you were sprawled out on the kitchen floor; face pressed against the cold tile. A loud sigh escaped your lips, but even still you were overheating.

Hope no one is lookin' through those windows, because if they are they're about to get a free strip show.

With your disgusting sweaty clothes rolled up in a crumpled ball under your arm and the thin blanket wrapped around your waist, you headed up to the bathroom to take a shower.

I mean, heading into the shower and being so warm automatically made you yearn for freezing cold water. But be honest here, who has ever taken a cold shower? After feeling the water and NUH-UH SON, you jumped into the now warm shower and began to wash up.

After changing into some fuzzy pants and a/an (Favorite Band/Singer) t-shirt, you flopped down onto your bed. The sheets and pillows were cool, and felt great on your warmed skin. With your hair pulled up out of your face and your eyes loosely shut, you listened to the howling of the wind.

After lounging about on your bed for a good half an hour, breakfast once again crossed your mind.

Shiiiiiiit but you actually need to make it.

Oh well, sacrifices have to be made.

Thumping back down the stairs and having a mini heart attack as you missed the last step, you skated across the hardwood floor and flung yourself into the kitchen. Regaining your balance and trudging over to the pantry, you pulled out a box of Poptarts and plopped into a chair at the dining table. Tearing open the metallic packaging and stuffing a piece into your mouth ( time was of the essence, no time for toasting ), you reveled in the flavor. God, Poptarts were freakin' GREAT. After eating a good two packages of said Poptarts (because you are an independent adult who didn't need no m-)

What the hell is that.

Your gaze drifted towards the kitchen table as a bright metal object caught your eye. Approaching it nervously, brain reeling while it tried to identify it, a gold ray of sunlight leaked out onto the kitchen table.

No.

It couldn't be...could it?

Sitting squarely on the kitchen table in all it's Asgardian glory, was none other than the helm of Loki Laufeyson; horns and all.

Your mouth fell agape as you approached it cautiously, the helm almost aglow in the morning sunlight. How did it get here? Did I order one offline last night..?

There really was no explanation for it, it more or less just...well...appeared. As though this morning could not have gotten any weirder, creaking floorboards alerted you to something prowling about within the house.

Nope.

Nopenopenopenope- you aren't dealing with a break in this isn't CSI.

Leaving the kitchen, you scampered over to the staircase and dashed up it on all fours; it's the quickest way don't judge. You heard the thumping once again, multiple large crashes alerting you to some sort of danger.

NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE-

You tore down the hallway at the top of the stairs, slipping into your room and slamming the door behind you.

Office chair, under the handle.
Deadbolt, locked into place.
And you don't have anything else.
This'll have to do.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, ribs feeling pressured as though they were about to give way.

Then you heard the crash again.
In your room.
Fuck everything.

There wasn't some dramatic turn around like in the damn movies OH NO. You whipped around so hard you basically gave yourself whiplash.

And there was a man.
Extremely tall.
Extremely fucking attractive.
Extremely surprised.
Extr-

OK SERIOUSLY NO IT WAS LOKI LAUFEYSON.