Summer Heat (Loki/Reader Lullabies #195)
Pairing: Loki/Female Reader
Category: Fluff. Fluff without plot.
Summary: When your air conditioner breaks down right before the hottest week on record, Loki realizes that he’s got a way to help you out.
Warnings/Notes: I know that I’ve already done a “Loki helps you cool down” Lullaby, and that a lot of other people have also written this kind of story, but...look, it was hot earlier this week, and we only have a window AC unit. Please enjoy the return of Jötunn Loki!
New but Retroactive Reminder for this and all of my fics: I do not, have not, and will not give anyone permission to copy/paste, translate, or otherwise take or modify this story to post it anywhere else. You can find my stories here on Tumblr or under kaeorin on AO3, but nowhere else. This does not apply only to fics which hold this disclaimer--NONE of my works are to be stolen or modified. Additionally, please remember that Liking a post on Tumblr does not increase the author's exposure. I don't run your life, but readers should be reblogging the works they like.
As a general rule, Loki had never really been a particular fan of hot weather. He could manage just fine; it just...wasn’t his preference. Summers in Asgard did not get nearly as hot as summers here in Midgard, but even so, he could remember spending those days damp and cranky, sipping cold drinks and trying desperately to cool off in the rivers and lakes.
But here in your home with you, he had to admit that the heat...had a few perks.
Your apartment’s air conditioning unit had held strong throughout the first part of the summer, only to break down on the eve of the hottest week of the year, according to the news you’d read to your landlord over the phone that night. He was unmoved. There was nothing that he could—or would—do in the next few days, so you just had to tough it out. You opened as many of your windows as you could, and gathered up as many of your electric fans as you could,
And then you stripped down. The past few days, you’d been wearing less clothing than perhaps he’d ever seen you wear before—the typical sessions of nudity notwithstanding. Light tank tops that barely skimmed your skin, barely covered your bosom, and certainly did very little to conceal your body from his hungry gaze. Shorts that exposed your thighs to him and allowed him to drink in the sight of you, of your curves and the marvelous expanses of your legs. Sometimes you eschewed shorts altogether in favor of underwear that made only the barest attempt to mimic them—boyshorts, you’d called them, looking charmingly bewildered at the way his eyes raked over you.
For Loki, the only real downside to this situation with your air conditioner was your discomfort. He loved putting his hands on you: pulling you into his chest to crush you in an embrace, lacing his fingers with yours, feeling the weight of you leaning against him as you sat close together on your sofa at night. But, as the temperature inside your home grew, so too did your reluctance to touch him.
“Ugh, I’m all gross, you don’t want to touch me right now,” you’d said that first night when he tried to pull you closer. Of course, that only made him work even harder to prove how ardently he always wanted to touch you. And you, you precious thing, you submitted to his touch for a while, even managing the same sort of peaceful sigh that he could often draw from you, but all too soon, you were pulling away from him again. “I can’t—I’m sorry, Loki, I’m too hot. It’s like I can’t breathe.”
So he allowed you to sit a little further away from him than usual, but you allowed him to keep a tight grip on your hand.
Your discomfort only grew at night. You alternated between sleeping in the nude, to take advantage of what few night breezes might make their way through your windows, and sleeping in the same skimpy clothing you’d taken to wearing, in hopes of catching your sweat before you could soak the sheets beneath you. However you were dressed, he kept an eye on you. One night, you were especially restless. Loki himself was growing uncomfortable. The heat was oppressive, and it was clear that you were not sleeping well. He watched you quietly, wondering to himself if it’d be alright for him to use one of his mother’s sleeping charms to help you sleep better. Maybe not. He preferred to keep things like that to a minimum, or at least to get your permission first.
But… He did have one other trick up his sleeve, so to speak. His other form. His Jötunn form. He turned the idea over and over in his mind, searching for some reason not to use it. Your face was still perfectly etched into his memory: that soft, awestruck expression you’d worn when he finally had the courage to show you who he really was. The tears that filled your eyes but refused to spill over—not tears of terror, but of happiness. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to risk shifting completely. If he did, and if you woke up, he wasn’t sure that he could bear the look of fright that would surely cross your sleep-softened features. But...a little could be alright.
Slowly, carefully, he allowed the glamour to drop from his arm. He watched as his skin darkened, as the ridges slipped up from beneath the Asgardian facade, and closed his hand into a fist as though testing himself. Then, slowly—carefully—he reached out to trail his fingertips along your shoulder. He expected you to flinch away from the sudden chill, or even to startle awake, so when you let out a quiet groan and buried your face against your pillow, it surprised him. Spurred on by your clear appreciation, he drew his fingers down your spine, stopping just above the lovely swell of your bottom. He treasured your breathless moan, and could not hold back his smile as he drew his fingers up your back once more. He heard the way your breathing deepened, noted the way you stopped kicking your feet out from beneath the sheets. You liked this. He spread his fingers out along your skin and allowed his arm to rest against your spine.
Suddenly, sleep felt a million miles away for a brand new reason. Instead, he lay there beside you for most of the night, taking in the sight of his blue skin against your own more...human shade, even as the moonlight made you glow.
In the morning, he awakened before you did, which meant that he had time to make his arm look normal again before you began to stir. The logical part of his brain knew that you weren’t very likely to be shocked to see the blue skin, but he really didn’t care to risk it. As he lay there, lost once again in thoughts of his true origins, he felt you shift beside him. You gave a low groan and then stretched your arms up high above your head, and then turned to bury your face against his shoulder. You weren’t much of a morning person, but all that meant to him was that he got to treasure the moments like this, where you sought to use him to shield you from wakefulness. All too soon, you’d be getting out of bed and going about getting ready for your day, and he was always perfectly happy to have this time with you first thing in the morning. He kissed your forehead and murmured your name in a quiet voice just to feel the way it’d make you shiver.
He let you work for most of the day. Or let you attempt to work, anyway. You did spend more time than usual getting up to stretch and refill your glass of water and maybe stand a little closer than normal to one of your fans, but things were largely peaceful enough. He pretended to work on other things, but mostly he was lost in thought.
He and Thor had both been raised to despise the Frost Giants, to the point that Thor longed to slaughter them before anything else. Hating himself was so deeply ingrained in his psyche that sometimes Loki despaired of ever feeling anything else. He was bloodthirsty. He was demented. If he were to come upon a group of small children out on their own, who had wandered too far from their mothers or who were misbehaving, he’d eat them all up without a second thought. He was scarcely more than a beast, and he brought misfortune and suffering unto anyone who crossed his path.
But he didn’t. Did he?
You made it so much more difficult to accept those bare facts as truth when you looked at him the way you did. You smiled at him, and whispered his name in so sweet a voice, and touched him so carefully—and longingly—that it was hard to reconcile all that with what he’d been taught. When he finally showed you his Jötunn form, you were not horrified. You did not flee in fear or gasp for breath or anything that he’d been taught to expect. Instead, you had gazed at him much the way you always did, but with an added heaviness in your brow because you knew what this meant. You kissed him the same as always. You let him pull you into his lap and hold you close and the color of his skin, or the ridges, or the blood-red hue in his eyes, they did not once make you hesitate. If anything, last night should have been enough to prove to him that you could appreciate his other form, rather than merely tolerate it.
Late in the afternoon, when you finally closed your laptop and pushed it away from you with a sigh, he watched you carefully but kept his thoughts to himself. You offered him a bright (though...tired) smile and refilled your glass of water one more time, this time bringing him some as well. Then you sat down a little closer to him on the sofa—but still not quite close enough to sate his need for you—and rested your head against the back of the couch.
He couldn’t resist. He reached out to caress your cheek. He hadn’t cared much for physical contact before you but, just as you’d changed so much else in his life, you’d changed that, as well. Now it was like he couldn’t get enough of your skin. You groaned at the first contact, but submitted to his touch for a surprisingly long time before halfheartedly turning your head to gaze blearily at him.
“Lo’, please, it’s so hot. I want to take off my skin...”
He forced himself not to laugh, and instead nudged your glass of water to encourage you to take another sip. As you did, he steeled himself for what he was about to offer. What if you said no?
He swallowed and made himself meet your eyes. “Darling, I think I could help you. My—ah...my other skin is...cold. Would it help if I touched you as a Frost Giant?”
Eagerness flashed across your face, then, but was quickly overshadowed by your selfless concern for him. Your brow furrowed. “Wait, but… Isn’t your other form more suited for, like, frigidly-cold temperatures? If you switch right now, you’d drop dead from heat stroke in an instant, wouldn’t you?”
This time, he did not fight the laugh that erupted out of him. You precious, darling thing, always so worried about him. He shook his head. “I’m hardly that fragile, I promise. Will you let me worry about that?” A thought occurred to him, then, and he arched an eyebrow at you. “But if you’d rather not have to look upon that face, I could hardly blame—”
But you were on your feet in an instant, scrambling to turn around so you could kneel on the sofa beside him and put your hands on his shoulders. “You know that’s not it! I love that face! I love this face! Loki, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
He slipped one arm around your back to pull you closer and then tugged you in for a kiss. “I won’t get hurt, my love. If I grow uncomfortable, I promise to let you know right away, alright? Now will you let me look after you for a little while?”
You cupped his cheeks in both of your palms and nodded slowly at him. The last time he’d shown you this side of him, he’d made you close your eyes first. Tonight, he didn’t bother. He allowed the Aesir form to drop away and kept his eyes fixed on your face even as your eyes took in the sight of him. You were smiling, or near enough, anyway, and the sight of you reminded him once again of just how important you were to him. You traced your thumb gently along the new ridges in his face. He would never get over the feeling of that.
“God, Loki, you’re so beautiful like this.” Your voice was a quiet rasp in your throat. Once again, he heard the tears you would not shed in front of him. He closed his eyes when you leaned into him again, expecting you to come in for a kiss, but instead he felt your lips brush against his forehead.
The bridge of his nose.
He lost it at that, a little, hoisting you into his lap so that you wound up sitting astride him, legs tucked close against the outside of his thighs and your chest against his own. You squealed a little, but he recognized the laughter in the sound too. You just kept showing him that you did not fear him when he was like this. When he gripped the back of your neck—firm enough that you couldn’t squirm away, but gentle enough that he wouldn’t hurt you—and brought your lips down to his own, you allowed him to do it. He felt the way the corners of your mouth curled into a shy smile as he kissed you.
It was true: he wasa little more sensitive to heat in this form. But right now, that only meant that he could feel the incredible warmth of your body as it radiated through your clothing. He could feel every last inch of you against his skin, and it was intoxicating. His free hand, he slipped beneath your shirt so he could caress your back. At first, it made you whimper into his mouth and press even closer to him, but it didn’t take long until you adjusted to the new temperature of his hand and let out a quiet mewl. Fresh heat shot through him at that, but he could not dwell on that right now. That was not what this was about.
When you broke the kiss, you pulled back just far enough to speak, and kept your forehead right there against his own. “Is this okay? Are you still okay? It’s not too hot? Am I squishing you?”
The day you found out what you did to him when you looked at him like that...well, he was done for. Suffice it to say that there was not a single thing he would not do for you if it meant you’d go on looking at him just like that. He smiled. He had to imagine that he looked almost embarrassingly love-struck right now, but perhaps that didn’t matter. You were the only one who could see him, after all, and you looked rather lovestruck yourself. He shook his head and squeezed the back of your neck, then guided your head down to allow you to hide your face against his throat.
“I am a god, pretty girl, and a Frost Giant besides, andI have my dear heart sitting soft and warm in my lap. I’m okay. I’m more than okay. Are youokay?”
Rather than answering with words, you hummed a quiet affirmative before closing your lips around his pulse point and sucking gently.
He tightened his grip around you and let his head lean backwards against the sofa.
Oh, the both of you were absolutely done for.
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you break down in front of them
includes xiao, albedo, and venti
> requested by anon: *clears throat* since request is open, was wondering if i could get a comfort fic with xiao, albedo & venti when the reader (gn of course) suddenly broke down as things have been too much for them for the past few days & it shocks them since the reader was mostly a cheerful person :D rmb to take lots of rest & drink enough water, have a great day!!!
ofc!! tysm <33
> the scene: you sit on the floor with your back against the wall, miserably staring at your hands. the past few days have been more than overwhelming — self critical thoughts scatter your mind, tears beginning to blur your vision.
the door opens. you look up to find your partner staring at you with a shocked expression, quickly replaced with worry.
only when he quietly asks, “what’s wrong?” do you completely break down, a sob leaving your lips as you bury your face in your hands.
he’ll panic a little bit before rushing forward and firmly placing his hands on your shoulders
“what’s the matter? tell me, now. what’s bothering you?”
his questions are relentless
he won’t stop asking you until you look up at him and give him a straight answer
you’re surprised at the amount of concern in his eyes — you’ve never seen him so unsure
he’s never seen you so upset
you’ve always been the more cheerful one of the relationship
seeing you break down scares him — has he done something wrong? did he say something too harshly to you earlier?
as you wipe your tears and softly tell him about the immense amount of stress you’ve been going through, xiao will purse his lips and nod
then, his grip on your shoulders tighten, a light of determination in his eyes
“you’re strong, stronger than anyone i know. you will get through this, and i will be by your side the entire way. i swear.”
his words only make more tears spring to your eyes, and he panics again
more visibly this time, though
“what? did i say something wrong? answer me!”
you can’t help but laugh lightly at his embarrassed expression, shaking your head
his face flushes when you press a quick kiss to his cheek
“not at all, xiao. you said exactly what i needed to hear.”
he’ll quietly walk over and sit in front of you, wiping the tears from your eyes and looking at you softly
seeing you in such a state hurts him more than you’ll ever know
albedo has always loved seeing you so happy and bright
it lightens his spirit, too, and he absolutely adores you
he’ll bring you in for a hug, rubbing your back soothingly as he lets you cry into his shoulder
he doesn’t mind at all — he’ll let you cry for as long as you need, his heart breaking at the sound of your sobs
“you can talk to me about it if you want,” he says softly. “only if you’re comfortable, though.”
you pull away and wipe your face before recalling the mess of events that have occurred in the past couple days, exhaustion spreading throughout your body
he’ll nod as you speak, sympathy covering his gaze
albedo knows all too well how overwhelming work can be
he overworks himself far too often, but whenever he does, he always has you to guide him away and rest
in turn, he tries his best to comfort you, grabbing your hand and slowly standing
he leads you to the bed, letting you lay down first before he joins you
“i know things can be tiring,” he starts, bringing a hand to your cheek, “but i will always be here to support you. you know that, right?”
you nod. “sorry for—”
“don’t. don’t be sorry. just get some rest for me, okay?”
you smile slightly before nodding again, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes
no matter what life throws at you, albedo will always be your anchor, and you will always be his
he kneels in front of you and lifts your head, the worry clear in his eyes as he cups your face
“hey, what’s wrong? talk to me, come on.”
like xiao, he’s also relentless
he just wants to know what happened; he wants to help you
he wants to brighten your day, just as you’ve done to him countless times before
he stares at you intently as you answer him, nodding and humming as you fill him in on what’s been going on
then, he’ll quickly drag you up from the ground, practically dragging you out the front door
he ignores your questions and just keeps moving
before you know it, the two of you are in front of the statue at windrise, a light breeze drifting by and gently lifting venti’s hair
“this is where i come to heal,” he says quietly, sitting at the base of the statue. “i thought it might help you, too.”
you smile at his gesture, sitting beside him and resting your head on his lap
he looks down at you with a small grin, glad to see your mood lightening
“good!” he laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “nothing the best boyfriend in the world can’t fix, right?”
you can’t hold back your laughter, sitting up to hug him tightly
he’s right, though
no matter what you’re going through, venti will always be there to make you smile
it’s the least he can do for all the joy you’ve brought him since you two met <3
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