Tom Hiddleston and Loki Imagines - Bk. 1

Loki - Morning Samba

For the sake of a reference of samba, please reference to Lacey Schwimmer (her movements when separate from Danny) in the SYTYCD dance for "Hip Hip, Chin Chin."

(Also, forewarning this is short and sweet.  Had a nap about this request and this is how it came out, short and fluffy.)

Already I have requests for the new book.  AAAHHHHHHHHH! xD

Based on the way the imagines worked out, "New to the Dungeon" is the last written imagine of this book to be in your POV. (After some time and editing, I will reorder the imagines so it's all organized.)

Don't forget: special surprise for the very last imagine as well as a special letter from me! :)

2...

Q: Favorite fandom crossover imagine?

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Loki's POV

I could hear music blaring as I open up the door from my room.  I hardly got any sleep: someone or something had Hulked Banner out, so Stark and I had to try to calm him down with force; Nat, Wanda, and (Y/N) were out having their weekly girls' night out and the other men were out bowling and playing billiards.

And now this blasted, inferno music was the last thing I needed to hear so early in the morning.

I stomp down the stairs and into the longue, where the source of the music was coming from.  Instantly, I'm greeted with the delicious smell of spices coming from the nearby kitchen, and it's there I gravitate to.  My anger dissipates as I see (Y/N) dancing, letting her hips roll in a samba as she cooks a breakfast buffet.

"Baila en la calle de noche, baila en la calle de día," she was singing as she chopped some peppers.

I stand in the door frame, smiling to myself.  (Y/N) looked so happy, dancing when she thought no one was watching.  Letting loose instead of being so tough and stiff like she was expected when we went on a mission, swaying to the beat instead of dodging a bullet.  At times, I don't even think she ever knew that I saw her like this, that these moments would slip from her watch and enter into my heart.

"¡Mira en Barranquilla se baila así, say it!" she let out as she flipped a pancake with one wrist and scrambled eggs with her opposite hand.

So desperately, I wanted to hold her, going up behind her and wrapping my hands on her waist and let her know that I understood, knowing what it felt like to hide your true self in the image others want you to see.  I wanted to tell her that it was okay to keep herself revealed to me, that it was the more vulnerable side of her I had fallen for, not the stoic boulder she was expected to play.

As if reading my thoughts or feeling my presence, she looks over her shoulder and, instead of stopping, flashes her teeth, then goes back to cooking, still humming the music.

With a smile as I bite my lip, I disappear back into my room, replaying her samba in my mind as I ease back to sleep, not caring that I could hear Shakira's voice muffled through my door.

Maybe one day my thoughts will turn into my voice.