A series of extremely weird stories surrounding our favourite mischievous anti-hero!
...and maybe the occasional Tom Hiddleston one too ;)
⚠️ This story may contain language that Steve would not approve of. Viewer discretion is advised.
🛑 I do no...
Summary: A prank gone wrong leaves both you and Loki stranded in a Vanir prison cell; arguments ensue, feelings revealed...maybe it's not too bad of an experience after all.
Pairing: Loki x Asgardian!Reader
Warning: angst if you squint
~~~
This was not what you were used to.
You were used to a room surrounded in a subtle golden glow. A room filled with a plethora of books, a comfortable bed with fresh linens, and comfortable clothes.
Not some damp and disgusting dump that contained a lumpy mattress and a paper-thin blanket.
Contrary to popular belief, you did have some sort of standards--even as low as they were--this atrocious room (if it could actually be called one) did not meet those standards.
"Well, this is a fabulous change in scenery."
Loki scoffed, "We're in a filthy prison cell, Y/n."
You rolled your eyes, "I was being sarcastic!"
It was no surprise to anyone that you had both managed to find your way back into one. You had frequented the Asgardian prison like a drunkard would an alehouse.
But those conditions were like Valhalla compared to this...trash.
"Now, I know what you're thinking: Oh no! Loki and Yn have once again been locked in a cage. How did this happen?"
You paused for dramatic effect, "It all started when someone *cough* Loki *cough* felt the need to cause some chaos. Of course, with me being the greatest friend in the cosmos, I agreed to help him. Together, we sought off to unleash the Mare, to plague Thor's sleep with terrifying nightmares. But alas, we were caught by the Vanir, and wound up in the place they deem a prison cell!"
Loki growled, "Y/n, as much as I love you telling the stories of our adventures, I'm sure that the poor soul that once lived within that rotting skeleton does not appreciate it!"
You huffed, "Norns, Lokes. I was just trying to lighten the mood." With a final roll of your eyes, you stomped to the other side of the cell and plopped yourself on the...chair?
Norns, you hoped it was a chair.
With a sigh, Loki made his way over. "I apologise for being so short with you, Darling. I just want to find a way to get you back home."
Your heart fluttered at thought of him wanting to protect you; him wanting to ensure your safety and arrival back to Asgard.
You couldn't deny the feelings that had slowly crept into your heart over the centuries for the one that you called best friend. The sense of protectiveness he felt over you and knowing that he wanted you safe-
"You want to get me home?" You whispered.
All you got was a nod in response.
"YOU WANT ME TO GET HOME?"
He cringed. He knew he was in trouble now.
"Only me? What about you? I cannot leave the Prince of Asgard to rot in this abhorred cell alone!" You pretty much screamed at him.
"I will not be leaving my...best friend in this filth!"
~~~
(A/N let's change things up..have a Loki POV for once)
His head snapped up at the pause. The feeling that only occurred when you were close was once again present. What did the pause mean?
Did it mean that you felt the same overwhelming fluttering feeling in your stomach when you were close?
Did it mean that you felt the sense of safety whenever the both of you were cuddling on the couch in the library in the middle of the night?
Were his feelings actually reciprocated?
He needed to know if you felt the same way. So, he did the only thing he could think of.
He cupped your face and slammed his lips onto your own; kissing you with a need he didn't know he had.
Fear shot through him at your lack of response. Maybe he had read the signals wrong...and you were only interested in him platonically? But that fear was soon eradicated when he felt your lips dance with his own. The only word coming to mind being Valhalla.
Grabbing your waist, he pulled you closer. He needed the contact. He needed to know that this wasn't just a dream. He needed to know that he was in this godforsaken prison cell, kissing the love of his life. That he wasn't going to wake up in a few minutes to an empty bed and have to come to the depressing realisation that his subconscious made this up.
Pulling his lips away from yours was probably the hardest thing he ever had to do in his millennium of life. As his forehead rested on yours, the realisation that his dreams never made it this far crept up on him.
Opening his eyes, he softly gazed into your e/c ones; the ones that he so loved. This was real.
You brought him out of his thought with a soft kiss to his lips. "Maybe the bacteria-infested prison cell was a nice change of scenery."
He grinned, "That may be so, my love."
He took a deep breath, "That may be so."
Locking his lips with yours was something that he could get used to.
~~~
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