Request: @lokislittlesigyn requested Loki helping reader calm down from a panic attack, or helping reader calm down in general
Pairing: Loki x reader
Warnings: mention of Loki’s IW death (but he lives!)
A/N: Thank you for requesting, friend. Hope you enjoy :)
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There was a moment—one long, excruciating moment—when you were sure death was the last thing you’d ever witness. The deafening explosions of the end the last thing you’d hear. And the mad titan cackling at the center of it all.
The cracks in your heart formed the moment you heard the snap that signaled your beloved’s death. All these years, all these times, he’d found a way out. So why now? Why now?
You ran to Loki’s body, sobbing as Thor yelled. You and your would-have-been brother-in-law shared a moment of anguish before The End.
And then, light. The chirping of birds. A ringing in your ears as you sat up panting, hand to your chest. Was this Valhalla? Hel? What fate had the Norns cursed you with?
“It is ok, my darling,” a voice said, hand alighting on your shoulder. “Just breathe. I am with you.”
An angel. A savior. Your love. Loki.
“I-it can’t be,” you whisper through gasps. You feared that looking at him would reveal he was nothing more than a mirage, a trick of a grieving mind.
“It is. Will you look at me, my love?”
His voice was a balm, soothing your aching heart. And his eyes, those brilliant orbs you finally looked at, an oasis in an endless desert. It was him. He was here. Certainly you must be dead then, but you could hardly care. You were together. You launched yourself into his arms.
“How?” is the simple question that leaves your lips.
“What?” the raven-haired God of Mischief smirked. “Certainly you did not think I could be gotten rid of that easily?”
You sobbed into his shoulder, then laughed. “I hoped. I hoped so hard.”
He soothingly rubbed your back. “Shh, darling. It is alright. I fooled Thanos, I fooled him and I am sorry that I fooled you too. But we’re safe now. Still darling, he is coming. We have to go. I will not lie to you, we will have to live in seclusion. It is not the life I wanted to give you, but alas...” He sighs. “If you wish to stay, I shall respect that. But, my love, please come with me.”
You nod without hesitation. “I will. Loki, I’d follow you to the end of the Nine and beyond.”
And so, the god took your hand, and off you wandered to be together forevermore.
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Bunny Slippers (Steve Rogers x Reader)
What do you think the team and mainly steve would be like with an ace / top shelf recruit who is also a total class clown ? Like cap x reader where he disciplines her but cant for the life of him keep a straight face ?
Hi anon, thank you for the request :) I really enjoyed writing it out! Hope you enjoy! Currently not tagging anyone, and taglist is now closed! Masterlist is linked in my bio :)
Steve Rogers x Reader (Fluff)
Word Count: 1206
You weren't in the mood to change out of your pajamas today. They were just too comfortable to even think about changing out of them, and it was pretty cold this morning too. You stared down at yourself in the mirror, shrugging at your appearance.
It wasn't that bad, except for the fact these pajamas had Batman's face all over them. And it might be a little funny in front of your new coworkers since they worked for the Avengers (and your bosses who were the Avengers).
You slipped on your bunny slippers, which squeaked out noises when you started to walk out of your dorm. It wasn't a vigorous day of training, so you could get away with wearing improper footwear. You scrunched your nose up as you started to remember the schedule.
It was probably weightlifting today, or just another lecture day with the occasional punch, right?
Shit, you thought, groaning, and throwing your head back loudly in front of your entire class. It was the practice marathon today, which you forgot to write down in your calendar. You swore it was next week, not today!
Snickers and giggles disrupted through your coworkers, as they gawked at you. You shrugged back at them, waving your hands in the air.
Maybe you can get out of running today by volunteering to be the water girl?
Nah, they probably don't need that.
Fake an injury?
No, Steve would see right through it. You smiled at the thought of him, and his body... Yeah, you were crushing on him pretty hard, and it was obvious to everyone, including him.
You really didn't care for the so-called work etiquette. "No dating anyone you work with", psh, so what? You weren't the type to get upset over breakups.
You usually tried to flirt with Steve whenever possible. And now, seeing him and some of the other Avengers standing off to the side, you planned on hitting on him. He seemed to be preparing for the marathon, not concentrating on anyone else as he stretched his legs out.
As you marched over there with a happy grin across your face, you also were not concentrating on your surroundings. One of your bunny slippers got caught into one of the weeds sprout a bit too tall, and without any warning, you tripped, yelping out a "Fuck no!"
It seemed like everything, and everyone was in slow motion now, as you started to fall, watching that slipper fling off your foot, up into the air. It spun over and over again, heading straight ahead of you, to Steve.
Your eyes widened as you yelled out, "Watch out!" But you were too late. The slipper bounced off his head, and it surprised him so much, he shot up from his stretches, effectively banging the back of his head onto a poll behind him.
Your entire face dropped into a horrified but perplexed look, directly to Steve. He bent down from the pain of hitting the back of his head, which then led to him headbutting Sam in the stomach.
Sam then pushed Steve to the side, laughing and not realizing Wanda had been standing right there. Instead of moving out of the way, Wanda shoved Steve right in front of you, and he landed with a loud "Ouch!"
You stood up instantly, shocked that you managed to pull that off, as the entire group of people behind you started to laugh loud, snorts and shouts were everywhere.
"Sorry, Cap." You mumbled, trying to hold back your smile. He stood up with a strange laugh, shaking his head, trying not to be so embarrassed.
"Uh," He paused, and noticed all the laughter. He needed to calm it down so everyone knew today was serious though. The only thing he could come up with on the spot was to punish you.
It wasn't really a punishment though, and he sighed quietly before speaking up again.
"Go run eight laps before we start." He demanded, and Sam rolled his eyes.
"Come on, don't do that, everything's fine!" He complained on your behalf. He liked having you around because you always got Steve to smile no matter what. It was pretty fun with you as one of their trainees.
"Sir yes sir. But I need my slipper back!" You responded, starting to let your smile shine. Steve scoffed, as he noticed your attire.
"What are you wearing?" Wanda peeped out, glancing at you. In return you just shrugged, answering with "My 'jamies!"
Steve didn't respond and you felt your stomach drop as you realized you probably disappointed him. So instead of waiting for your other slipper, you skipped away, starting your run.
The field was small, but you were having trouble running with your one slipper. So, you opted out for just no slippers at all, and everyone watched. You groaned as you stepped on more weeds, and you started to swear at them.
"Fucking stupid weeds, you made me slip!"
"I just want Steve to be happy, damnit."
"Bitch weeds, you son of a fucker, curse you. Do you like making me angry like this? Huh?"
Apparently, you were so heated with anger at the weeds, that you were shouting it so loud that the group could hear you clearly. And you had started to run even faster than before, now sprinting the rest of your laps.
Steve couldn't hold back his laugh now, losing that straight face he tried so hard to keep. You were ridiculous, and every time you even spoke, he couldn't help but want to grin. He was happy you were here now, and he could recall every single memory he had of you.
Sam nudged him, catching his attention.
"So, when are you going to give her a chance? I mean, it's clear you like her." Sam whispered, and Steve rolled his eyes back instantly.
"No, stop it. We have to follow the rules, remember? No dating." He replied, not even denying that he liked you.
"Rules? Screw that!" Sam scoffed, and Steve chuckled.
"I know. Maybe when we talk a bit more, I'll ask her out." He responded, admitting he has been thinking about you a lot.
When you were finally down with your laps, you were covered in sweat from the sprinting. You probably should have stuck to basic jogging, but you didn't care.
"Uh, can I maybe have my slipper back please? They're my favorite pair and it's limited edition." You pleaded, just wanting to feel both slippers on your feet now.
You already had the other one back on your foot. "Limited edition?" Steve asked, laughing as he handed it back.
"Yeah, that's what the packaging said. Got it from a college store a few years ago." You replied, thanking him afterwards.
"I didn't know you graduated from Harvard. But let's get ready for the marathon now." Steve said, knitting his eyebrows together. It was true, your file said you graduated from another college.
"Oh, psh, about that - I went there during spring break and broke into their store." You admitted. More giggles broke out from the people listening into the conversation, and you grinned at Steve as he shook his head in disbelief.
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the tags on your football Billy story about autistic kids not being allowed to play sports, gave me the idea of Steve with autism not being allowed on the basketball team and how Billy and maybe Tommy if you want since you write kegboys sometimes would react
It doesn’t take Billy long to notice him, the benchwarmer boy who sits on the sidelines, never getting his shot in a single game, just riding the bench with a smile on his face.
At first he sort of pegs it to mean the kid is just really not good, maybe riding the tails of his daddy’s sportsmanship legacy, but then Billy realizes something, that this kid doesn’t even get to play at practice.
He shows up and he sits there like being excluded is the happiest he’s ever been, and the only time he ever has the ball in his hands at all is if it’s to toss it to one of the boys on the court when it rolls to him.
Despite this though, he has his very own jersey. Number zero. Harrington.
Billy asks Tommy after practice once who this mysterious jersey kid is, and he smiles sort of tight, like maybe Billy shouldn’t have asked him that, and tells him, “I’ll introduce you.”
Tommy walks over to the kid and tells him something that makes him light up, jump to his feet and follow Tommy back over, “Billy, this is my best friend, Steve Harrington.”
Steve just sort of waves, so Billy jumps straight into it. This kid intrigues him and he wants to know more, “There a reason you don’t play, Harrington?”
In response he shrugs his shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of his way too big basketball shorts, “I’m not allowed.”
“Why not? You fail some test or something?” Billy tries to ask lightly, not noticing the way Tommy’s face scrunches up before Steve drops a bombshell on him instead, “They don’t let special ed kids on the basketball team.”
And if that’s not bad enough, Tommy then adds, though significantly more bitter than even Steve is, “Or on any team for that matter, whether it’s sports or clubs or debate, you name it. School board denies every last application.”
“Oh.” Billy frowns, totally dumbfounded, his school in California never had any issues with that, “Oh that- that’s bullshit.”
“I know.” They say at the same time, prompting Billy to ask, “They don’t even have like, a separate team?”
“Not enough kids would do it.” Tommy says, and he gets a sharp look from Steve, who corrects him quickly, “Not enough kids could get permission to do it.”
“But that’s such bullshit.” Billy repeats, not very helpfully.
“Nothing we can do about it. We’ve tried everything. Not even momma Harrington could convince the school board, and let me tell you, that woman is scary.”
Steve elbows Tommy for that one, and Tommy laughs softly, throws an arm around his shoulder, but Billy is thinking, biting the corner of his nail in concentration, “Why don’t we start our own team?”
“I don’t know.” Steve’s face scrunches up, and he turns to Tommy, like he doesn’t trust what Billy says, so Billy continues, “No, I’m serious. School says you can’t play for them, so fuck ‘em. There’s courts in the park, I have a ball, and I’m out there half the time watching my little sister anyways. Let’s start our own team.”
Tommy answers for him, “Practice takes up too much time. We’re not gonna be much of a team unless we’re going to be playing at night or in the winter.”
“Then we quit the tigers.” Billy shrugs, like it’s obvious.
Instantly Tommy narrows his eyes, “Very funny, man.”
On the other hand though, Steve looks at him with awe written all over his face, eyes wide and spelling, “You’d really quit for me?”
And Billy, he plays it off like that look doesn’t make his heart melt, claiming, “For you and for Max who’s been talking my ear off about how much she wants to play soccer and whose heart is going to break when she finds out she can’t.”
Convinced, Tommy looks over at Steve, “If you’re in Stevie, I’m in too.”
Steve seems like he’s considering his options, drumming his fingers on the outside of his thigh, occasionally humming softly in thought, and it’s making Billy impatient.
“So?” He asks, to which Steve nods a confirmation to his offer, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.
Tommy cracks a crooked smile, holds out a hand for Billy to shake, seal the deal, “You’ve got yourself a team, Hargrove.”
They decide not to give their little team a name, the idea of being called something feels too exclusive, which was the reason they’d all quit the school's team in the first place. Billy had gotten in big trouble when his dad found out he quit for wasting their time and money on basketball, but that was all bullshit anyways, games were only usually a half hour long and were free to get into for the players family, and the school paid for the uniforms.
But that was what he said and what he’d been going to punish Billy for until they found out about the reasoning behind quitting, after which Susan was flattered he cared so much about his little sister, and he got his permission to freely go down to the park and play with the “special” kid.
Neil of course didn’t care about him doing it for Max, he was just concerned with Billy’s public image. Playing ball with the richest family in town's dopey son did nothing but good things for the way their neighbors saw him, so he’d allow it.
A few weeks into their games though, which are mostly just playing HORSE or teaching Steve how to do trickier shots since no coach ever would, Billy has to bring Max along because nobody was going to be home and she wasn’t allowed to be by herself. It’s a dreary day so there aren’t many people around at all, so he decides he’s going to loosen her leash, and walks her over to the playground (that they can see clearly from the courts, he’s not that irresponsible.)
He teasingly offers to push Max on the swings or lift her up to the monkey bars, making her roll her eyes and proudly declare that she’s not a baby anymore, so he chuckles and leaves her be, walking back to the basketball hoops.
Tommy and Steve are just sitting on the old wooden bench just off to the side of the court, waiting for Billy to get back because he’s their little impromptu coach and they can’t start without him, but he notices that they’re sitting awful close together, and between them, Tommy’s hand sits slightly on top of Steve’s, pinky fingers linked together.
Now he knows these two are affectionate, he couldn’t even count how many times Tommy picked Steve up after he made a good shot or ruffled his hair and smiled at him when he messed up, but that was all just friendly affection.
This was different though, he could tell it was from the way Tommy’s eyes snap up and he pulls his hand away, the both of them looking away from each other guiltily.
He feels a little something like jealousy in his chest, or maybe it was just anxiety at the fact that they’d been so obviously holding hands in the public park, but either way, he just kind of freezes up, looking between their two terrified faces until Tommy’s turns angry, standing from the bench so fast the old rusty things creaks loudly and Steve has to cover his ears.
He grabs the front of the baggy jersey Billy wears from his old school's team, the bears, and gets right up in his face, sneering, “You gonna say something, Hargrove?”
And Billy’s not afraid of Tommy, he might be mean, but he’s on his toes to threaten him, and he’s pretty sure they both know Billy would win the fight anyways. He’s not going to fight him though, and he makes that clear, putting his hands up as a clear sign of not going to sock Tommy for yelling at him, “Secrets safe with me, dudes. You go down, I’m going down with you.”
Tommy doesn’t get it though, because he growls, “Right. ‘Cause all that matters is what will happen to your reputation after giving up your precious sport just to hang with a couple of fags, right?”
“Tom.” Steve snaps, but he gets ignored, Billy arguing over him, “Actually, no. You know all that talk about queer kids flocking together without even knowing? That doesn’t come from nothing. I out you, it’s putting a target on my back, and from there it won’t be not long before a little birdie tells the wrong person the right rumor and we’re all dead.”
“Oh.” Tommy says softly, his face falling.
Billy nods sarcastically in response, “Yeah, oh. So let go of my damn shirt before I find a reason to punch you in the face.”
“Can we just play basketball?” Comes a timid request from behind them, so Tommy lets go, wipes his hands on his shorts, and answers him, “‘Course we can, Stevie.”
It doesn’t take long for them to get bored though, none of them are really in the mood to play after that. They play a small game that’s pretty much just Tommy blocking Billy the whole time, but after he shoots the ball they all just let it roll, none of them caring enough to keep the play going. So instead, Tommy offers up his place to hang out there.
It sounds at least better than this, so Billy drops Max off back at home, making her promise not to do anything stupid to get them in trouble until he gets back later that night, and heads straight to Tommy’s like they planned.
The whole drive he’s worrying that they’re gonna pissed at him and beating himself up for not just pretending like he didn’t notice, to the point where he almost just drives right past, but Steve waves at his car from the front window, and he can’t do all this petty angry shit to him.
Tommy’s house is empty for the night, so that means two things, that they’re free to drink as much as they want, (smoking’s a no go though, the smell is too strong and makes Steve upset), and that Steve sits right on Tommy’s lap like it’s nothing.
Which, it is nothing. Billy just told them he was gay too, and now they don’t have to hide from their best friend, so it’s common sense that they wouldn’t.
But Billy, well, he wouldn’t say he’s jealous watching the two of them together, it just makes his chest burn every time they touch or laugh at some joke and whisper amongst themselves like he isn’t even there, or when Steve kisses Tommy’s cheek.
Yeah no, there’s no pretending, Billy is totally jealous. He’s had a thing for Tommy since like, day one of practice when he bounced a basketball back in his own face trying to show off, and Steve for just as long, yearning to know more about the pretty faced mystery kid who turned out to be a total sweetheart and won him over. It’s tearing him to shreds watching them just being happy together without being a part of that.
He wonders if these small town boys have ever even heard of having more than one partner other than like, mormons, and if they haven’t, how is he supposed to bring it up without sounding like a total weirdo. Maybe he could claim that he was just trying not to be left out since they were probably the only queer kids in Hawkins. Or maybe not and Tommy would try to kick his ass again for even trying.
He doesn’t have to do much wondering though, because as pointedly as he’s trying to ignore them, Steve keeps getting closer to Billy on the couch until he’s sitting in his lap, and Billy has to ask, blue eyes going a little wide, cheeks flushing red in a way that had nothing to do with the sunburn he’d gotten at the park earlier, “What’re you doing Steve?”
“You included me. Now I’m including you.” Steve hums and leans his head on Billy’s shoulder, holding eye contact with Tommy.
To say that Billy is flustered and doesn’t know what to do with himself is more than an understatement. He'd like to say he’s not the most inexperienced one here, but it’s not looking good, because he’s flushed as red as a tomato, and the only thing he can think to say is just, “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Tommy says and smiles that big goofy smile of his, a playful imitation of their little argument from before, “And I’d much rather you kiss me than punch me.”
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