Loki and Peter Parker Imagines (X reader)

Insufferable (Loki)

Those who knew Loki Laufeyson and (Your full name) were well aware of how much the pair loathed each other. It wasn't uncommon for one to be spotted running or hiding somewhere in the Avengers compound with the other in pursuit. Whether it was Loki growling and muttering threats under his breath while hunting the compound for Y/n because he'd woken up with pink hair, or Y/n gritting her teeth and shouting at thin air because a certain someone had destroyed her room- her bed sheets shredded, dresser's mirror shattered, clothes littering the floor- in short, with the two attempting to assassinate each other every other confrontation, the people around them found themselves enveloped in pure chaos pretty often.

Today was another such day in the Avengers compound. As the first few streaks of dawn broke out on the horizon, Thor, the God of Thunder, jolted awake. No, not because the boxes upon boxes of pop tarts he'd eaten the prior night were churning impatiently in his stomach, pining for a way out, though that particular factor was one contributing to disturb his sleep too, but because he heard someone, a very groggy, yet very angry someone's voice shout his brother's, The Silver Tongued God of Mischief's-

"Loki!" Y/n screamed the trickster god's name at the top of her lungs, floating through the compound in what was decidedly a scalding, fiery rage, towards the God's room, a snake coiled around her neck. This morning in question she'd woken up with a giant anaconda slithering silently around her ankles.

Only one person, or god, to be specific, was daring enough to plant the reptile on her bed: Loki Laufeyson. Now, the animal certainly wasn't very intimidating once she'd mind controlled it into doing her bidding, but waking up with a heavyweight, slithering feeling on one's feet is enough to instill fear, no matter how temporary, into one's mind.

The God in question was currently banging his fists fiercely on Thor's bedroom door, the latter persistent in refusing to let him enter and therefore ultimately casting himself in a bad light in front of Y/n.

"Brother, I shall not hide you from Lady Y/n this time. I told you to steer clear of pranking her! Don't you remember, the last time you did it-"

"I know, I know, I remember the details very well, thank you very much. My tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth for an entire week, so you don't need to present constant unnecessary reminders. Now let me in before she finds me, Thor, for the love of Asgard!" Loki hissed, frantically rattling the doorknob in hopes that the door would somehow, somehow for Baldur's sake, open.

These infuriating creatures had had a damned magician from Midgard cast a curse upon a pair of thin chains which Loki had to wear on his wrists 24/7, which rendered his magic useless for the most part. They were enchanted with a curse which could only be removed by the person who had cast the curse in the first place, and Loki certainly couldn't think of an initiative to provide to Y/n to assist him in his predicament, so now he was stuck in front of such a trivial thing as a door, cowering in anticipation and trembling in the face of his fate.

"Brother, believe me when I say I love you, but I don't want to face Lady Y/n' s wrath!" Thor replied, and Loki groaned audibly.

"Fine! You all are mewling quims! I shall go fare for myself, even if it means certain death," he grumbled, and ran to the opposite side of the hallway, and even as his feet carried him to Odin knows where, he knew it was futile and that he was doomed. He just had this premonition.

He shouldn't have messed with her, he knew that. But he couldn't help it! The way her brows furrowed in annoyance, the way her eyes sparkled when she was passionate- even if was to get back at him for a particular prank or joke- the way she crossed her arms and glared at him to look intimidating, it was all too amusing to him.

It was oddly endearing, too, but he'd never mention that to her. Or to anyone else, for that matter.

The way she bit her lip when she was deep in thought, the way she played with the rings adorning her fingers when she was nervous, the sound of her laughter-