Mind Reading- The reader finds out Loki has been studying mind reading, and hopes he can't see what's going on inside her head. Platonic!ReaderXLoki
Vulnerable- Thor leaves Loki in charge of the sickly young princess, who has the advantage of being but a child, yet still feeling embarrassed in front of the dashing prince. Platonic!ReaderXLoki
Shame- Loki has a conversation with the youngest resident of the avengers tower. (Tickle Fic) Platonic!ReaderXLoki
Goodnight Kisses- Loki doesn’t want to let go of this moment with you. Platonic!ReaderXLoki
Weaknesses in Sparring- Sylvie doesn’t seem to want to give you a break. You agree to let her teach you in a sparring match. Loki just wants you two to get along. (Tickle Fic) Platonic!ReaderXSylvieandLoki
PLATONIC Tony and Peter:
OCD- Peter hasn't been feeling like himself, and when he finally snaps, Tony realizes something is wrong. Honestly, he probably should have seen it earlier. Irondad
PLATONIC Thor and Loki:
Sun Kissed- Loki's pale complexion is a great target for the summer sun in New York. Platonic!ThorXLoki
This is the Pink Wooly Ant!
A fluffy Ant that feeds on Nectar and Plant Material (as well as Laughter).
They are very curious Creatures and because of that tend to climb onto People they come across, skittering all over them as a Result.
If they are accidentally crushed they turn into a sort of pink Dust, however they are not dead.
Instead, they form back into an Ant after a while if left undisturbed.
Pink Wooly Ants communicate with their fellow Ants by rubbing their fluffy Antennae together.
They are also capable of making chirping Noises and can also purr- uwu
Not many; I generally steer clear from that section of people. However, Spidey has been known to send me a link or two when he wants someone to be able to talk to someone about what he read.
Pairings: Loki x reader, brief Peter Parker x reader (both platonic)
Pronouns: she/her
Summary: Noticing that the reader struggles with overthinking, Loki wants to help.
CW: Self-doubt, overthinking, anxiety. Brief description of fearful reaction to a horror movie, though the scene of the movie is not described.
There are some heavier moments written from a more metaphorical perspective, but lots of fluff and (silly attempts at) humor as well!
-----------------------------------------
Note: Hi! I'm Ash, I've been lurking on here for yearssss reading other's fics, and decided to write one of my own!
I had full intentions of finishing this before Halloween (as you will see, it has some Halloween themes), but... that did not happen LOL. I didn't want to wait until next October to post it, so I hope someone is still able to enjoy it :)
Scrolling through the different movie options in the Halloween section, you abruptly stopped when you heard Peter dramatically gasp.
“STOP! We have to see this one! Please tell me you’ve seen this before- it’s a classic!”
You chuckled at Peter’s enthusiasm, then answered, “Peter, I told you I don’t like horror movies. Honestly, I don’t even think I’ve heard of, like, any of these movies.”
“Okay, well, we have to see it then! I promise it isn’t that scary!” Peter assured.
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say,” you countered. “Until I have enough adrenaline rushing through my body to singlehandedly power the electricity in this whole compound-“
“That isn’t even possib-“
“-and then I’m not able to sleep for the next month- not to mention the horrific images scarred to my brain, and-”
“Pleaseee,” Peter cut you off and looked over to you with wide, glistening eyes. “You said you would get in the Halloween spirit with me…”
“Oh… alright. But if you’re lying, we’re changing it to Hocus Pocus. All I’m saying is that I happen to value my sleep and peace of mind.”
“YES!” Peter exclaimed. “Wait, before you start it, I’ll grab us some blankets! A-and some snacks!” Scrambling out of the common room, he wasted no time before returning with some snacks, setting them down on the glass coffee table in front of you. He tossed you a cozy white throw blanket, then threw himself down on the opposite end of the couch, with a blanket of his own.
“Thanks,” you smiled softly at Peter, grabbing a bag of popcorn mix from the table, then wrapping yourself in the blanket and snuggling into the cushions.
While most of the Avengers were out today on different missions and errands, you had remained in the compound to work in the lab earlier. As one of Bruce’s lab assistants, you were thankful that your line of work didn’t require you to go into the field all that often; your strengths were more so in your research and analytical skills, rather than through physical combat or espionage.
When you moved into the compound earlier this year, you and Peter had become friends fairly quickly, given that you were the second-youngest member of the team, you both shared a love for science, and you saw each other quite often. You had a tendency to be shy around new people, so you appreciated how Peter immediately made you feel welcome on the team, and how he always had a kind and optimistic presence. Sure, the kid could be a handful at times, but his youthful energy was a refreshing change in pace to your day at work, so you were thankful to spend time with him.
You tossed a handful of salted caramel and cheddar popcorn in your mouth, a burst of sweetness and saltiness deluging your taste buds. After swallowing, you turned to Peter.
“You know, when you asked me to get in the Halloween spirit with you, I was thinking of something more along the lines of carving pumpkins or jumping into a pile of leaves. I didn’t really picture you as someone who enjoys scary movies.”
“Oh, those are next on the list! I already got us some pumpkins,” Peter responded with a big smile on his face. “And, well, I like to say that I enjoy watching scary movies, but sometimes I get too scared watching them, especially by myself. L-like this one time, which may or may not have been yesterday, I tried watching one of the Insidious movies, and I had to turn it off because I got to scared. Kind of embarrassing,” He chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. “But anyways, it’s still fun! I think it’s better to watch them with friends because, in the end, it brings you closer.”
“That’s totally fair.” It meant a lot to you that Peter wanted to grow closer to you, so you supposed you could sacrifice your dignity and watch the movie. Or, start it, at least. You’d see how it goes.
You pressed play on the movie. From the opening scene, the energy of the room shifted to a caliginous and eerie ambiance. Your eyebrows instinctively raised and drew together, and you absentmindedly bit your fingernails in fearful anticipation.
Peter glanced over to you, then shifted towards you on the couch. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here. If you get scared, you can grab on to me, or whatever you need, okay? My Spidey senses can detect a jump scare from a mile away, so I can let you know when one’s about to happen, i-if that makes you feel better.”
You couldn’t help but feel a little sheepish, somewhat childish for having such a strong fear of horror. But, you met his eyes and smiled softly. “Thanks, Pete.”
“Hey, I’ll always make sure you are safe.”
Taking a deep breath, you lowered your tense shoulders as you returned your attention to the movie and continued snacking on the popcorn. Twenty minutes passed, and honestly, you were lasting longer than you’d expected.
A few minutes later, the suspense began to climb. Your breath hitched. Your heart pounded. The excellent acting and thrilling music entranced you, cast a spell on you to believe that you were experiencing everything directly through the lens of the characters themselves. As he leaned forward on the edge of the couch and rested his elbows on his knees, Peter, too, held his breath as his unwavering wide eyes glued to the screen. You instinctively sat up next to and leaned into Peter, wrapping your arms tightly around him as if your life depended on it. Peter returned his arm around you and rested it on your waist.
Peter’s embrace lulled you into a sense of security, and the suspenseful music diminished as the characters escaped to a safe haven. You let your guard down, relaxing into him and releasing the breath you’d been holding.
“AHH!”
Peter screamed. You also screamed.
He yelled right next to your ear, jumping at the jump scare that suddenly occurred and squeezing his fingers into your waist.
A millisecond after Peter began screaming, you screamed with him. A reaction not only to the jump scare, but also to Peter’s scream and his fingers digging into your skin. With your senses heightened from the movie, feeling Peter squeeze into your waist tickled way more than it should have. Adrenaline shot through your body and you launched away from Peter. The popcorn flew off of your lap, some pieces spilling onto the floor as you accidentally rolled off the couch with a thud. Rolling over onto your back, you clutched your hands over your chest as you caught your breath, and began to laugh in both amusement and mild embarrassment.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay??” Peter asked with a concerned look on his face as he knelt beside you, before noticing that you were laughing. “You scared me!”
“Oh, I scared you?? You were the one who scared me first, after you screamed at the jump scare!” you chastised, albeit with a slight smile as you came down from your adrenaline rush.
“Ok, I guess that’s a fair point,” he shrugged. “I guess my Spidey senses were a little off because I did not see that jump scare coming. I totally forgot about that one.”
“Yeah, no kidding! So much for keeping me safe!” you joked. You sat up, started picking up the popcorn off the floor, and threw a piece at Peter.
“Sorry! But hey, in my defense, I really did not expect you to fall from a jump scare.” He finished helping you pick up the remainder of the popcorn. “A-are you sure you’re okay? I’m so sorry for scaring you. I wasn’t trying to, I promise. You’re okay, right?? I feel so bad, I really didn’t mean to scare you-”
“Hey, it’s alright, Peter, I know you didn’t mean to scare me, I’m completely fine,” you reassured him, looking him dead in the eyes to show you were telling the truth.
“O-Oh, thank goodness you’re okay,” Peter exhaled, though you could see he still felt guilty.
“I didn’t fall just because I was scared,” you elaborated, and he tilted his head thoughtfully. “When you jumped, you squeezed your hand on my waist and it tickled me. Which, really, you should know better to be careful!” You poked him on his stomach.
“H-hey!” He flinched. “I didn’t mean to! But you’re right, I should’ve known better. How could I forget how ticklish you are?” He smirked and quickly squeezed his hands on your sides, before standing up and offering you his hand.
You playfully rolled your eyes, then took his hand. Peter had found out you were ticklish a few months into your friendship as you were working in the lab. While trying to write a report, you had zoned out and hadn't heard him trying to get your attention, so he decided to poke you on your side to draw you out of your trance-like state. You jolted dramatically, giving a bigger reaction than he was expecting. Truthfully, you were just as surprised because you hadn't been tickled since you were a child and had forgotten what it felt like. You both laughed in amusement before you apologized to Peter for not hearing him.
Since his discovery, Peter never hesitated to poke you on your sides or ribs, or scribble his fingers briefly on your stomach when he could sense you were too stressed, or could use a little help getting out of your head. He observed that you had a tendency to overthink, and how you would often get lost in thought, especially when working. He also noticed that you weren’t truly bothered by his playful distraction.
“How are you feeling? Should we keep watching the movie?” Peter asked.
“How about we take a break? Maybe we could carve pumpkins now? That jump scare sent me overboard, metaphorically and literally speaking. I think I need some time to recover,” you laughed.
“Absolutely! A break sounds great. Carving pumpkins sounds amazing. Let’s do it, I think we need something fun after that jump scare.” He took the remote and paused the movie. “I’ll go grab the pumpkins from outside, I’ll meet you in the kitchen!”
Heading into the kitchen, you cleared off the table, covered it with newspaper, and set out some utensils for carving. A few minutes later, Peter returned, holding two large and two smaller pumpkins in his arms. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted a small pumpkin or a really big pumpkin, so I brought both!” He exclaimed, placing them on the table.
“Wow, I’m impressed you were able to carry all of those,” you chuckled. “I’ll take a big one first, I feel like it might be easier to carve.”
“Alrighty, here you go!” He set a big pumpkin in front of you, then grabbed a big one for himself and set it down next to yours. “This is going to be so much fun, we are going to carve the best pumpkins ever!”
“I agree! I haven’t done this in so long.” You each picked up a knife and started carving a hole in the top of your pumpkins. Removing the top and reaching inside the pumpkin, you pantomimed gagging as your hand became swallowed by the slimy innards. “This is so gross!”
He glanced over at you and laughed. “Eww! Yes I forgot how nasty pumpkins are before you carve them.” Now digging out the innards of his own pumpkin, a look of disgust emerged on his face as he gripped the slippery orange goop and slapped it onto the newspaper. “It won’t be so bad once we get past this part.”
As you and Peter continued working, you looked up as you heard footsteps enter into the room, belonging to Tony, Thor, and Loki. The three of them were recently in Iceland on their latest attempt at searching for a dangerous fugitive. While they were on the quinjet on the way home, Tony had sent everyone an update letting you know that the fugitive managed to elude them, but they gathered more intel on their identity and potential next moves.
“Hello, there, young ones!” Thor greeted you and Peter as he made his way past you to the fridge. After heating up some leftovers, he found a seat at the table away from where you and Peter were stationed. Loki had crept over to the stove, turning on the burner beneath the kettle.
“Ooh, carving pumpkins?” Tony set down his briefcase and walked in between you and Peter, crossing his arms and observing your work as you finished removing the pumpkin guts. “I haven’t done that in ages. I’d join in on your little Halloween party, but right now I’ve gotta finish up this paperwork. Pepper will be upset with me again if I don’t do it right away,” Tony said. “Speaking of Halloween parties, I’ll see you all Saturday, right? I’d wish you all good luck in the costume contest, but Pepper and I are definitely winning this year.” He confidently pointed towards everyone around the table before picking up his briefcase and exiting towards his office.
“Nuh-uh! My costume is gonna be way cooler than yours, Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed loud enough for Tony to hear as he walked down the hall. You listened on as Peter continued to tell stories about the “epic” Halloween costumes he’d had over the years and further emphasized how serious he was about winning the costume contest this year.
Glancing across the table to Thor, your mind wandered as you were curious as to whether or not he, or Loki, would be in attendance. You wondered, had they ever participated in celebrating Halloween or attended a costume party here on Midgard? You could see Thor good-naturedly joining in on the annual festivities, but Loki would probably take some convincing to participate. Although, perhaps he would enjoy a Halloween party, given the mischievous and chaotic activity it might entail.
You looked over at Peter’s pumpkin and back to yours. Your face dropped as you sighed at the realization that while his was nearly complete, yours remained a blank canvas. You’d been staring at your pumpkin for the last few minutes, hesitant to take action out of fear of messing it up. Up until this point, you were doing perfectly fine. After all, it didn’t matter how the inside of your pumpkin looked. But now that you were done removing the guts, your overthinking suddenly kicked in as you came the part that truly mattered: carving the actual design.
Your brow furrowed as you tried visualizing and calculating the best distance and angle to carve the eyes, nose, and mouth. A barrage of thoughts swirled through your mind. Yes, you came to realize that only you would overthink even when it came to carving a pumpkin, but you couldn’t help yourself from wanting it to be perfect. That’s just the way you lived; everything you did had to be done to be best of your ability, or you wouldn’t do it at all. Lost in concentration and indecision, you bit the corner of your lower lip and narrowed your eyes to map out the best course of action. Maybe you could start it here? No, that would be too-
“Hey!” You jumped at the sensation of someone poking your side, pulling you out of your thoughts by ticklish shock waves travelling up your spine. You accusingly looked over to Peter, who wore a guilty half-grin. Heat rose to your cheeks at the realization that the three of them had been looking at you, in an almost expectant manner.
“Ah, the young maiden is ticklish!” Thor chuckled heartily.
“Yes, the spider child does seem to provide some valuable intel about her,” Loki stated flatly, pretending as if he wasn’t interested. Though, it didn’t escape him that your face appeared to slightly relax, and your demeanor seemed to shift from one of melancholy to liveliness after Peter had tickled you.
“Peter! What was that for?!” you exclaimed indignantly, but you smiled, despite yourself.
“Oh, Thor asked you a question, a-and we tried getting your attention, but you were really zoned out again, so I wanted to show them the best way I learned how to get your attention whenever you do that,” Peter explained.
You swiftly covered your face, your voice slightly muffled by your hands. “Oh my gosh, that’s so embarrassing.”
“I really don’t think she minds it as much as she lets on,” Peter whispered loudly to the Asgardians.
Your face flushed traitorously. (Though, Peter was arguably the bigger traitor, since he was the one to sell you out in the first place.)
But, he wasn’t wrong; Peter’s playfulness did help you relax a bit. Playfully engaging with someone wasn't all that common for you, so it felt kind of nice to let loose sometimes. Not that you really wanted that information casually spoken aloud, especially in the presence of the boisterous God of Thunder and the tall, dark, and handsome God of Mischief. You couldn’t say that it would truly bother you if either of the gods exploited this piece of knowledge, but you weren’t expecting Peter to just call you out like that. You planned on keeping at least some of your self-dignity intact today.
Desperate for a diversion, you asked, “Anyways, what did you ask me, Thor?”
“Ah, yes! As I was saying, what costume might you be wearing to the Halloween party?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure yet! What will you be going as? And have you celebrated Halloween before, or is it not really a thing on Asgard?”
“This will be my first time, actually! This mortal holiday is quite intriguing to me, I’m looking forward to seeing how you humans celebrate the evening. I went shopping just yesterday for a cool costume to wear. I’m a bit excited, I’ve never done this before!” Thor beamed as he stood up from the table and made his way to the sink, rinsing off his empty plate. “I picked out a vampire costume for myself, and I even bought a werewolf costume for Loki!”
Pfft. You and Peter let snickers escape you as you fought hard to not laugh at the thought of Loki in a werewolf costume.
“Now, hang on a second! I have agreed to no such thing!” Loki retorted. “I have not seen this costume in my life, but I can guarantee you I will most certainly not be caught dead wearing such poor quality, cheaply manufactured pieces of fabric.”
“Come now, brother! Have some fun!”
“You are a fool to think I would ever partake in that. If I truly wanted some fun, I could simply shape-shift myself into an authentic werewolf and scare all of the mortals in the area. Also, that is the most basic, unoriginal idea you could think of. Honestly, brother, you have such poverty of imagination.”
“Really? I thought I was onto something there,” Thor admitted sheepishly.
Peter added, "Yeah, come on, Mr. Loki! It would be fun! Are you sure you don't-"
"No." Loki deadpanned as you bit your lip to hold back a smile.
The conversation was diverted by the kettle as it began to whistle, its tune fading into a soft hiss as Loki turned off the burner, then searched through the cabinets for a mug.
Peter turned to the Asgardians, looking up from his pumpkin for a moment and pausing from shaping the final details into his jack-o-lantern. “Do either of you guys want carve pumpkins with us? There’s a couple small ones here, and we have some more outside, too!”
Loki declined, while Thor said, “I’d love to join you! It sounds like a good way to de-stress after a long mission. How about we grab some more from outside?”
“Sure! More pumpkins will help us with decorating for Tony’s party, too!” Peter set down his carving knife on the table. “We’ll be right back, ok?”
You gave Peter a small smile. Peter and Thor left through the backdoor of the compound, the door shutting behind them with an enthusiastic thump. Unenthusiastically, you turned back to your pumpkin, your face falling once again as you were slightly upset with yourself for having yet to carve anything.
Unbeknownst to you, Loki observed your demeanor shift back again to one of frustration. “Would you like some tea, Agent?"
Absentmindedly and politely, you declined his offer, maintaining your hyper-focus and concentration on thinking through the best possible strategy for your task at hand. Loki shrugged, finding it a little unusual that you would turn down tea, then poured some steaming water into a mug for himself.
“You know, Agent, I can’t say that I have any experience carving pumpkins, because I’d never touch my hands to pumpkin guts. That would be disgusting, and I am a god, after all.” He placed a tea bag in his mug, letting it steep. “However, from what I’ve gathered from you mortals, I’m fairly certain it’s supposed to be fun. It appears to me that this is not the case for you.”
“What do you mean? I am having fun,” you said. It would be silly of you, you thought, to get upset over something as simple as a pumpkin. Plus, it wasn’t entirely a lie; despite your frustrations with yourself, you were enjoying the company of your teammates.
“Do you plan to carve your jack-o-lantern, then? Or are you going to keep staring at it, with hopes it will carve itself?” Loki asked gently with an equally teasing and amicable tone.
“Well…” You looked down sheepishly at your pumpkin, fidgeting your thumb on the handle of your carving knife, then placing it on the table. “I would like to do it, but I’m afraid I’ll mess it up.”
He lifted the porcelain mug to his lips, taking a sip of his steaming tea. “I must admit, fear has gotten the best of me many times, as well. But once you start, you’ll fall into a nice rhythm. I understand your concerns, but pumpkins are plentiful and if you ‘mess up’, then that simply means you have room to grow and learn how to avoid any errors next time.”
“Thanks, Loki. I hear you,” you sighed. “But what if it’s ugly?”
“That’s impossible, darling. Nothing that you touch could ever be ugly. I’m sure whatever you create will be lovely.”
Heat crept to your cheeks at his compliment. “But-“
“Ah-ah. No more of that,” Loki cut you off. “It seems to me that you are in need of some confidence. I do not think there is any shame in not being instantly or perfectly good at something.”
“Yeah…” Your shoulders slumped. “I know, I just… don’t know how to change it,” you said to your pumpkin.
“I can understand that. Perhaps there is something I could do to convince you to at least begin carving the pumpkin? To convince how little risk there is?”
“I don’t know… I know it’s silly, but I’m so nervous about messing up. I just want it to be perfect.” You were thankful that Loki was trying to help you. Truly, you knew how ridiculous you were being and wished you could just carve the damned pumpkin. You hated your anxiety for turning something you should find fun into something that you feared.
Loki thought that you were too hard on yourself; you had a kind, calming and gentle presence to everyone around you, so why couldn’t you give yourself the same grace you give to others? Over the past year, he had noticed your proclivity for self-doubt on several occasions as you lived and worked at the compound. It was odd to him that you would doubt yourself and your abilities, given that you were an incredibly competent scientist, which you had proven time and time again.
He wished there was a way for him to help you not hold yourself to such unrealistic standards. You had just admitted to him that your fears were stopping you from doing something that you wanted to engage in; he believed there must be something he could do to provide encouragement in overcoming your insecurities, even with something as harmless as carving a pumpkin. Clearly, offering words of wisdom alone wasn’t enough, so he racked his brain for another strategy.
One idea came to his mind, though he wasn’t entirely certain it would work. Based on Peter’s playful engagement with you earlier, you appeared more relaxed, as though a weight was lifted off of your shoulders when he tickled you. Loki couldn’t say that his observation was a fact, after all, it was only a single, brief interaction that he saw. And who was to say you would be equally comfortable with him as you were with Peter? He had no intentions of making you uncomfortable in the slightest. But, perhaps he could test his theory. There was no harm in testing the waters to see if you’d take his bait. And who knew? Maybe it could be a win-win situation. He could potentially assist you in overcoming your self-doubt, while proving himself to be right at the same time. He’d never pass up that opportunity.
“Well, Agent…” He set his mug on the countertop and clapped his hands. “I can’t stand seeing you in that little melancholic state any longer. So, I’m going to propose an offer.” He raised an eyebrow, making sure to lace his demeanor with mischief to see how you’d react. “Since you’ve told me that you want to do it, either you can willingly at least begin to carve the pumpkin, or… I will be forced to provide you a little motivation. Some coercion, if you will.”
You perked up a bit at the glint of playfulness in his voice, then tried to hide your inquisitiveness just as quickly as it appeared. “Coercion, hm?” You hummed flatly, though Loki saw right through your attempt to masquerade the sudden glimmer of curiosity in your eyes.
The corner of his lip pulled upwards as he gained some assurance in his speculation. “Oh, most certainly. As the God of Mischief, I must say I’ve gathered some rather effective strategies over the years. I am well versed at using a person’s fear as leverage to manipulate them to do what I want,” he said in a low drawl.
“Ih-is that a threat?” you stammered. Loki carefully studied your body language to check for any signs of unease, but he failed to notice any. If anything, he might’ve said you were intrigued.
“Perhaps it is,” he offered casually. He crossed his arms, flaunting a little intimidation and a little more confidence.
“I’m not afraid of you, Loki. I know you’d never do anything to hurt me,” you taunted, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips.
Your response further confirmed his suspicions; if you were going to be playful with him, Loki presumed you wouldn’t mind if he dished it right back. Maybe Peter was onto something; perhaps you needed some playfulness to provide a little distraction. To help alleviate the voices in your mind from telling you nothing you did could fall short of being perfect.
He tilted his head. “Mm, perhaps you should be afraid. Especially after your spider friend recently provided me with such valuable information of you.” He exuded a calm, yet slightly unnerving confidence as he stepped towards you.
“What are you-“ Oh. Oh. (As if you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.)
The wheels in your brain abruptly came to a screeching stop as you froze. Your legs glued to the ground as if they were anchored in place. Your heartbeat quickened, and nervous, (who were you kidding?) excited giggles spluttered from your lips. Weakly, you held up your hands, pretending as though you wanted to maintain distance between you. Though absolutely everything else in you was provoking him, your final brain cell seemed to have a sense of self-preservation as it fought for you. “Waihait-“
Before you had any time to react, he grasped his fingers around your wrists, quickly spinning you around, pressing your back flush against his chest. A crimson haze seeped over your cheeks at the realization of how trapped you were in his strong arms. He gathered your wrists, pinning them against your chest with one hand, then used his other hand to lightly scribble his fingers on the side of your stomach just above your waist. Instantly, giggles left your mouth and you squirmed at his delicate touch.
“I’ll show you mercy if you promise me one thing,” he said, casting chills down your spine. He paused his fingers, resting them on your sides as if waiting for definite permission.
“W-What?” you squeaked.
He gently turned you to the side and gazed at you softly. Bringing your eyes up to his, you could see that the glimmers of mischief had been replaced with genuine care. “Promise you’ll attempt to carve the pumpkin, and give it your all.”
Being well and fully aware that you were digging your own grave, you flashed back a defiant grin and responded:
“I can’t promise that.”
“A shame,” he sighed as if it pained him, but secretly took delight in being right. “The offer was genuine, too.” He released your wrists and latched his hands onto both sides of your ribcage, expertly digging into the crevices of your lower ribs. You squeaked and squealed and fell into laughter, doubling over as you tried to evade his ticklish touch.
“AHAH Loki wa-HAIT- NO“ You shrieked and writhed uselessly against him as his nimble fingers relentlessly clawed up and down your ribcage. Electricity rapidly trickled through you in every direction, down to your feet and up your spine to the base of your neck. Zapped of your power, your legs lost their strength as you quickly fell weak in his arms. Gently, he laid you down on the kitchen floor, throwing one of his legs across your body and straddling your upper legs.
“I’m afraid it’s too late now, Agent. I did offer you an out; you simply chose not to take it,” he hummed. “My offer does still stand, however. Though, perhaps you don’t truly want this to stop.” He winked, continuing his ticklish onslaught and scribbling his fingertips into your belly, equidistant between your bellybutton and sides.
Fireworks exploded across your cheeks and laughter flowed from your lips. He chuckled endearingly, amused as his deft fingertips made quick work of sending you into hysterics. Alternating between well-placed pokes and clawing around your stomach, and pulsing his hands up your sides and ribcage, he dodged your hands with ease as you attempted to push his away, never letting you get used to one sensation. Loki paused as he noticed your eyes widening and blush deepening when he found a particularly sensitive spot on the middle of your ribcage.
“Oh, my,” Loki drawled, his eyes lighting up as though he’d discovered a valuable treasure on a deserted island. “You should really be thankful you don’t work out on the field, with how little control you have of your face.”
“UGH I kno-OHO-w,” you whipped your hands up to your cheeks to conceal your impossibly increasing flushing face. You were sure that in any second the heat radiating off of your face would burst into flames, emitting smoke signals to any potential rescuers to help you off of said island.
Speaking of rescuers, how long does it take for someone to simply go outside and grab some pumpkins?!
(On second thought, maybe you were thankful they were taking so long.)
“There’s a r-EAHA-soHON I work behind the sc-EHENES AHAHA NO” you managed to say in between your laughter. You all but screamed as Loki unexpectedly latched his fingers onto your hips, drilling into the soft skin next to the bone. Throwing your head back, your eyes squeezed shut, you lightly snorted, and then fell into silent laughter. Your entire body became inundated with ticklish shock waves as his thumbs rhythmically and steadily pulsed into the dip of your hips, his fingers simultaneously digging into the back of your sides. Persistent, unrelenting, unyielding, he targeted your hips, eventually slowing down to lightly scribble at the sides as he noticed tears forming in your eyes.
He stared down at you with an amused grin, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. “Ready to yield, yet, Agent?”
“Lokihihi,” you said as your giggles audibly returned. You had to admit, the sensation was entirely overwhelming, but at the same time, it was kind of fun. Only Peter had really tickled you before, but it was never more than a couple seconds; the extent of his playfulness seemed completely mild compared to how Loki was taking you apart with his hands. You couldn’t remember the last time you truly laughed and let loose like this. You would never admit to enjoying yourself out loud, but you had a feeling didn’t need to; your traitorous face spoke for itself.
“Yes?” Smirking, he exuded mischief and amusement as his fingertips ghosted around the soft skin on the inside of your hipbones. He wondered how much of his playful tormenting you were willing to subject yourself to.
“I cahahn’t-” You batted weakly at his hands. Loki had been observing you closely, and even through your disheveled state, he noticed a genuine smile still remained behind your eyes. Reaching behind him with his left hand, he lightly scratched the skin on the back of your thigh, just above the back of your knee. Frantically, you kicked your legs and your shoulders shook as he simultaneously engaged his right hand, continuing to squeeze your hip. “I caHAHn’t take iHIit AHA-“
He grinned, “You know how to make this stop.” Picking up the pace of his tickling fingers, he elicited more of your melodic laughter as you became nearly powerless under his playful touch. In a half-hearted attempt to protect yourself, you somehow managed to slip one of your hands in between your left hip and Loki’s hand, to which he quickly grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. Using his free hand, he rapidly pinched up and down one of your exposed and vulnerable sides, from your hip bone to the top of your ribcage. You jolted and laughed underneath him, your laughter interlaced with squeaks and squeals as Loki found especially sensitive spots.
Curiously, he wiggled his index finger deep into the center of your underarm. Much to Loki’s delight, your eyes glittered with liveliness as you shrieked and squirmed under his touch. He couldn’t help but find it adorable that you were enjoying yourself so much, and how much it was seeming to help you relax.
“OK, okahAHy,” you uttered. He relented, though he remained seated on your legs and maintained his grip on your wrists, in case you changed your mind. Euphoric giggles continued to spill from your lips; you were feeling almost giddy from the endorphin rush. Impatient, he pinched your side once, then glared at you expectantly. You took a moment to collect yourself, then took a deep breath and said, “I-hi promise to carve the pumpkin…” You giggled, hesitantly adding,” … if you do one thing.”
“What is it?” He raised an eyebrow with fake indignance, but he couldn’t help but be a little amused. “Need I remind you, Agent, you really aren’t in any position to be making ultimatums.”
“I’ll carve the pumpkin… if you wear Thor’s werewolf costume to the Halloween party,” you jokingly proposed. You knew that Loki would never wear it, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him about it. And honestly, you weren’t quite ready for your playful interaction to end just yet.
He looked at you with a blank, emotionless expression, letting the taut silence linger between you for a few seconds. Your giggles slipped out again, partially from nerves, partly from delirium. Loki found himself both charmed that you were provoking him to continue and amazed at your resilience.
“You’ve got some nerve,” he growled and glared at you, though with lightheartedness in his pale emerald eyes. “Too much nerve for someone as ticklish as you.”
With that, he let go of your wrists and found your triggering middle rib, drilling his middle fingers deep into the bone on each side. You strongly jolted, laughing uncontrollably as you kicked your legs helplessly from underneath him. Eventually giving up on your halfhearted attempts to protect yourself, you relaxed as you succumbed to your torment. Loki continued his relentless, playful attack on your sensitive spot, digging in ruthlessly as you once again fell into bright laughter. In this moment, you felt the weakest and most flustered you had ever felt in your life, your entire body dissolving like Jell-O on the floor. At the same time, you somehow felt entirely carefree, unable to think about anything else except for how bad it tickled, as the endorphins flitted around your brain.
His heart glowed with endearment as he heard the bubbly giggles pour from your lips and saw a big grin across on your face. He felt quite satisfied with himself on his newfound effective strategy to help you let loose and relieve some stress.
Your face was now an overripe tomato, your laughter soon becoming breathless, so Loki stopped, sensing that you’d had enough. Catching your breath, you sputtered out a surrender through your laughter.
He climbed off of you, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence, aside from your occasional residual giggles as you recovered from your delirious state.
After a few moments, Loki turned towards you. “Darling, I would never force you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. But I truly think it would be good for you to at least try.” He paused, gazing at you gently. “I understand that you don’t want to mess up, that you want to do things perfectly, and I can respect that. Perfection is a noble goal, though it is unachievable. It pains me to see that your pursuit of perfection sometimes paralyzes you in beginning something, for fear of messing up.”
You met his eyes softly, listening intently.
“You are incredibly competent and gifted with a brilliant mind, but even the most brilliant minds in the world will continue to fall short of perfection. Even Odin himself has flaws. But he is one of the most powerful and wisest gods out there. Thor isn’t perfect, even as a mighty warrior. His ego is massive. Yet he is still a powerful warrior, a noble brother.
I only want to give you some confidence and reassurance that it is entirely okay to mess up. It is a natural part of our life’s journey, that we are capable of growing from our mistakes.”
Feeling slightly taken aback by his compassionate and understanding words, and at a loss of words to match his kind sentiment, you gently smiled and said, “Thanks, Loki.”
He offered you a sincere, tight-lipped smile in return. “I only wish you could see the value in yourself that everyone else does. You would do well to give yourself a little grace.”
“That’s very kind of you to say,” you breathed.
“It is all the truth, Agent.”
You had never realized how attentive he was towards you, or how much he cared about you. You were so used to fighting your battles on your own, the thought of receiving help was almost foreign to you, especially from Loki. Perhaps your fear of appearing incompetent was keeping you from letting anyone in, and you’d blinded yourself to the reality that others might want to be there for you. But now, here you were, seated side-by-side in a vulnerable moment with the God of Mischief, his kindness coming as a welcome surprise, comforting you like a warm embrace when you needed it the most.
Your heart swelled at the thought that Loki cared so much about you, feeling honored that he was comfortable enough opening up to you in a way he really hadn't with others. It meant so much to you that he was willing to risk being vulnerable himself in order to help you, to show that it is okay to allow people to see behind your mask of perfection. He reminded you that you were more than competent, and even when you did make a mistake, you were still loved.
Learning to be more forgiving of yourself and your mistakes would be a process; that much, you knew. It isn't something that would completely change overnight, but you decided it was something worth working towards. Especially now that you knew you had your teammates to support you.
"Shall I let you get back to your pumpkin now?" He asked.
Nodding genuinely, you gave him a soft smile.
Loki beamed with an uncharacteristic warmth, recognizing that the traces of melancholy in your disposition had faded, replaced with a glow of hope and promise.
“Excellent! I’m proud of you, Agent. Perhaps this is what you need to overcome your fears. A victory, even if it’s simply over a pumpkin.” He stood up, offering you his hand.
“So… does this mean you’ll wear the werewolf costume? If not, I totally get it- I think the vampire costume would suit you better anyway,” you deadpanned, then winked as you took his hand.
Feigning menace, he held your hand firmly and stared down at you before helping you up. “Ask about the costume one more time, and I will pin you to the ground and tickle you until you are on your last breath. And next time, I won’t show any mercy.” He winked right back and gave you a sly grin.
You squeaked and blushed furiously at his threat, causing Loki to smirk at your flustered reaction. Although, now that he was aware you truly didn’t mind his playful antics, he knew he would follow up with that one day, anyways. Perhaps on a day when you were extra hard on yourself, if only to make you smile.
“We’re back! Sorry it took longer than-“ Peter, pumpkins in hand, stopped in his tracks as he saw Loki helping you up. “You fell again? Wow, and I thought that I was a klutz,” Peter remarked with a smile.
You lightheartedly laughed at the coincidence, while Loki looked a little bemused and returned to his tea. You decided you’d be fine with keeping both of them in the blue about your embarrassing moments you’d had with the other.
As you began working on your pumpkin again, in the company of your teammates, you couldn’t help but be thankful for them.
Perhaps you could be a little less hard on yourself. You made a promise to yourself that one day you would learn to be more forgiving of yourself and your mistakes. To believe that you were good enough, and that you were worthy of the same love and grace you gave so freely to everyone else.
Summary: “The target victim of these terrifying monsters are little boys and girls. Their blood is like sweet nectar to them, refilling their energy while also increasing their thirst for vengeance. They can’t control themselves; when they find a child to latch onto, they just can’t let go until the child has no blood.”
Why did Mello and Matt ever go on this stupid website in the first place? How did they even find these horrid stories written just to scare little kids? What did they think they were getting out of reading these aloud? When will they stop?
or, Near gets scared, and he goes to L for help.
-------------
“The target victim of these terrifying monsters are little boys and girls. Their blood is like sweet nectar to them, refilling their energy while also increasing their thirst for vengeance. They can’t control themselves; when they find a child to latch onto, they just can’t let go until the child has no blood.”
Why did Mello and Matt ever go on this stupid website in the first place? How did they even find these horrid stories written just to scare little kids? What did they think they were getting out of reading these aloud? When will they stop?
“Dude, are we gonna die?” Matt wasn’t usually one to freak out over “scary” stuff they saw or found, but these stories were starting to really get to him, and it was late at night.
“No idiot, these are fake.” Mello reassured him.
Mello never seemed too scared about these stories, besides a few nights he was feeling a little extra fearful, like when they decided to beg Roger to watch a horror movie, only for it to be turned off before the super scary parts were shown.
Mello had still been scared that night, and Matt had to stay up with Mello for both of their sakes.
But this night, well passed the break of dawn, when they decided to sneak onto the computer without roger knowing, they read some pretty terrifying stories.
And Near just happened to be in the same room.
At the familiar voices he heard coming from the hall, and his oh so curious mind, he took a look to see what was going on.
Then he was hooked.
These bloody gory words and images stuck to the little boy like glue; manifesting themselves in the back of his mind like a real life horror story.
And he couldn’t walk away.
Near stood behind the chair in the computer room, watching and listening as Mello and Matt read.
“Nick; 10 years old, little boy from the United States. Cause of death: blood loss from the Blood Thirsty monster.” Mello read off the site.
The United States. That’s where they lived.
No, no. This was ridiculous. Near knew these stories weren’t real. He knew they weren’t.
But he still felt his heart beat fast.
The creaking of the wood panel in front of the computer room entrance is what got the three boys out of their trance.
Rogers stern voice was followed by Near scurrying from the room quietly, escaping without anyone seeing him.
“Mello. Matt. What are you doing?” Roger’s eyebrows knit together, causing his forehead wrinkles to intensify.
The punishment so likely promised was at the tips of his hands, he was ready to rain down on the two boys like a tornado.
Alas, he still had to be reasonable with them. They were just preteens despite the fact that they were geniuses.
“Well?” He asked, expecting an answer from at least one of them.
“We were just bored.” Matt answered, Mello, too frozen in fear next to him, unable to answer.
Roger felt his shoulders relax and his muscles become less tense; why does he even try with these two?
“Go to your room. Both of you; I’ll deal with you in the morning.” Roger said, pointing to the hallway.
Roger had let them off so easily that night. He felt his eyelids droop and tiredness wash over him; he couldn’t deal with this tonight. They would get a proper punishment in the morning.
After the man ordered the boys to go to their room, Mello and Matt scurried like mice to get out.
Upon entering their room, Matt sighed out of relief. “Thank goodness. Dude, I thought we were gonna loose our-our games or something!”
Mello, too bitter and embarrassed to contribute, nodded and spoke in a hushed tone as a reply.
“Yeah… thank goodness.”
———
If one more branch hits that window, he would be done for.
Near lied in his bed, soft blankets held up to his eyes, his fists grasping onto the covers for fear life.
A cracking noise startled him from his frozen state, a tree branch hitting his window. Of course tonight was a particularly windy night, and the gardener hadn’t been there to trim the branches in some time.
Near felt his body shaking, his fists were white, and one thing surprised him incredibly as he knew himself inside and out- or so he thought.
Tears were falling down his cheeks.
Tears were falling down his red cheeks- not just red from crying- and he was so embarrassed and ashamed to be crying at something so fictional.
Near didn’t want to stand up in case the monster- or anything- were to grab his ankle from under his bed and pull him in, probably to suck his blood or eat him.
Then Near did something he was also surprised about.
He pulled his blanket down, took a breath, and got out of bed.
Quick to walk away from the opening between the floor and his bed frame, Near headed to his door, and as if he’d done it a thousand times without having to think, opened it to head down the hall.
He was careful to be quiet, not to be a disturbance to the other kids- or even more so Mello, Matt, or Roger- and he headed to the big door at the end of the hall.
Near stopped, his body shaking from not only the chilly air, but his terrifying fears and this uncommon experience.
Then he put his little hand over the door knob, and he turned it.
It was unlocked. He was almost sure it would be locked, but the great and famous detective left his door unlocked in this orphanage filled with genius kids who would love to be the next him.
As L’s most likely successor, the nine year old Near held L in such high regard, and despite the unusual situation, their relationship mirrored that of a familial and loving mentor and mentee.
Long story short, L loved Near, and Near loved L.
The occasional hug here and there, the gift giving, the “I want to sit in your lap so I’m going to force you to sit regular for a few minutes and you’re just gonna have to deal with it” all added up to something amazing. Love.
So why did Near feel so embarrassed to go to L in the middle of the night?
Of course, to Near’s luck, L was awake. And he spotted his successor from his bed.
“Near? Is that you?”
Near paused, he felt his hands shake and his eyes well up with tears. He didn’t want to face L like this.
“I- I’m scared.” With the little strength Near had left in him, he spoke up about his feelings, it was almost a whisper.
After a beat of silence, L replied.
“Come here.”
And Near did.
Oh boy did he go over there.
Near practically ran over to L, he wrapped his little arms around the detective, and as tears streaked his red, puffy cheeks, he hid away all the shame and embarrassment he felt. All he wanted was L.
“Near, what are you scared about?” L answered in that signature monotone voice that only his close people knew about, and that included Near.
Sniffles interrupted Near’s sentences as his cries continued, “I-I heard a scary story- and I know it’s not real- but Mello a-and Matt were reading it and it said th-the monsters would kill little- little boys, and I’m a li-little boy but I know it’s not lo-logical-“
His ramble was interrupted by L’s shushing and tightening of his arms around the boy.
The two stood there like that for a while, the warmth from L comforting Near, his smell ever so sweet and calming.
After Near’s sobs seemed to calm down, L released him from the hug, held his warm cheeks and said, “You are allowed to be scared. There are scary things in this world, and that’s your body’s way of telling you something is dangerous. Don’t ever feel ashamed about that.”
Near’s bottom lip began to wobble at what L told him.
L panicked for a second, then realized what he’d implied. “But,” he emphasized, “that doesn’t mean you’re in danger. There aren’t any monsters here, and there aren’t any monsters here that we can’t protect you from.”
That last part really hit Near. Whether L meant real monsters, or people posing as monsters through their actions, they would protect him. L would protect him.
Near nodded his head, and L let go of his face to hug him.
Near was almost lullabied to rest by the hug, he was startled when L moved away.
“Are you okay?” L asked Near.
Near felt his face heat up, not only at his fears and irrational actions, but also at the physical love he craved so much from the man- only for it to be pulled away.
He felt like a baby. Afraid of monsters and almost falling asleep from L hugging him? That was weird and babyish. And he didn’t want to be babyish. Not at all. Nope. Nada. No.
Near tilted his head down and messed with his hands. He looked guilty.
“I’m sorry I bothered you in the middle of the night.”
L looked at the boy, his facial expression the same as usual, besides his eyes widening in concern.
“You didn’t bother me. I was up already.” L told him.
“Still.” Near acted almost stubbornly, his youth coming out in the face of fear and exhaustion- and not to mention no other kids in the room.
L thought for a second. “You can come to me anytime.” He said, straight forward and directly.
Near paused, looked up, and raised an eyebrow. His confused face looked something too similar to a little puppy.
L smiled, oddly enough, and said, “Yes. Please do.”
Near relaxed his face, nodded his head, and looked down.
He was quiet. Then, “May I please sleep in here with you?”
L was surprised at first, then quickly accepted his request by lifting the covers on one side and allowing Near to climb into his bed.
No branches were hitting the window. Near felt his eyes closing, and then his small voice was heard by L.
“Thank you.”
———
Let’s just hope Mello and Matt don’t find Near sleeping in L’s bed- he would never hear the end of it.
I need more wammy house stories tbh because I’m literally crying, weeping, hurling, screaming, frothing at my mouth, punching the air, and ripping my hair out of my scalp over how fucking cute this was😞
TW: Mentions of mental health issues, insinuates Se*f Ha*m
A young girl in care of the Avengers feels different after talking to Stark about her mental health problems.
Bucky watches over her one day.
Word count: 682
Day 22. Her bedroom is dark, the artificial sound of a box fan grows more noticeable as she awakens.
She gets up, walks over to her bedroom light and flips the switch on. The tall ceiling becomes brightened immediately, a “natural sunlight” lightbulb giving off the essence of a spring morning just as the sun is rising. It’s 8:45 PM.
Her floor has just enough clothes and various nik-naks cluttered around to prove the room was clean not long before.
The pencils and pencil sharpeners no longer take space in her desk drawer.
Her sketch book and journal are perpetually filled by blank pages; the ghost of creativity taunts her as she glances at the desk.
The AI is aware of her discomfort somehow.
“Hello y/n. How are you feeling right now?”
The question from the AI would have startled the girl had she not been through this already.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to ask that all the time.”
“Y/N, safety protocols have been set in place for me to ask you how you are feeling in order to keep you safe. I can tell Boss that you requested them to be turned off if you’d like.”
“As if he’d listen.” she rolls her eyes as a sign of her frustration.
Without answering FRIDAY’s question, she sits back down on her bed.
After a few seconds of quiet, she feels her body still.
“FRIDAY… is anyone here?” Her voice is only a whisper, shame and fear swirling around her mind and body as she remembers how alone she felt before Stark found out.
“Yes. James Buchanan Barnes is here. Would you like me to alert him of your current state?”
“No.” She said, almost too quickly, gripping the sides of the bedsheet.
“No, FRIDAY, I’m fine.” She repeats, almost as if her first answer wasn’t what she meant.
Her eyes are trained on the floor, her mind completely unaware of who arrived in her doorway.
“You know, you don’t have to be afraid to talk to me.”
Bucky’s voice is startling, bringing the young girl back to her bodies perspective.
Bucky feels a tiny flame of guilt heat up in his chest for scaring her after all that happened.
“I don’t need a babysitter you know.”
Her tone is harsh, frustration and annoyance hiding her guilt.
“I know.”
“So why are you here?”
She made a good point; out of everyone in the group, why did they trust him to keep her safe and stable?
Maybe it was because he couldn’t do that for himself.
She and him were the same.
He shrugged his shoulders, the sadness in his eyes clearing just a little as he recognized their similarities.
“I think they put us together often because… I rely on you. I see me in you.”
Her gaze lowers, her eyes once again finding interest in the ground. Her fists are clenched again. She doesn’t reply.
“I guess we can just be… unstable together.”
That sentence. That sentence hits her in a hard spot. She had felt so alone for so long, she felt different and hurt. She was damaged.
When Bucky admitted to not only being broken as well, but also being broken with her, she felt something in her body she didn’t feel in a long time.
She felt safe.
Her eyes began to sting with tears at the single thought of him being with her, next to her, right there anytime she needed him.
He was quiet, always knowing when to say something, always knowing when not to speak.
She wiped her tear from her cheek, feeling the residue dry sticky, then to nothing.
Temporary, like her situation.
“Hey, wanna look at the stars?” He’d asked.
This was not a normal occurrence, the two of them gazing at the night sky, but neither was the girl speaking up or Bucky opening up.
On the rooftop, the cold concrete was covered by only their coats, but they felt no inconvenience by the harsh material.
It was nothing compared to the trust they felt in each other.
On the rooftop, the cold concrete was covered by only their coats, but they felt no inconvenience by the harsh material.
It was nothing compared to the trust they felt in each other.
It was nothing compared to the trust they felt in each other.
