Originally written: (4/17/23 MON 18:49 - Loki x reader)

Warning: fluff :)

Summary: You and Loki share an apartment. And despite the fact that you two would rather tear out each other's guts, you agreed to split the rent and all the other costs. Since water is expensive you both—although, grudgingly—agreed to take turns with the hot water. One day you'd get a hot shower while Loki got a cold one. The following day Loki get's the hot water while you get a cold shower and so on. After an impossibly terrible day, you've completely forgotten it's your turn with the cold water until you get back. You're surprised when Loki does the very thing you'd least expect.

(1st person)

(Your pov):

Today could not have gone any worse.

Bad luck is one thing, but today was a whole other world of "bad luck". Everything and anything that could've possibly gone wrong had somehow snuck it's way into every part of the day I'd planned to go perfectly.

The part I'm most dreading, and am entirely sure will be the worst part of my day—besides being now jobless—is my roommate. My number one nemesis. That one person I'd much rather throttle whenever he smiles that smug little smirk of his.

With a heavy sigh that leaves my shoulders sagging in defeat, I approach the painfully familiar dark-green door—ironic for him, right?—pushing the key into the lock, twisting it counterclockwise until I hear and feel the click of the silver knob, before turning the handle, pushing the door inward, and walking through the doorway.

I shut the door behind me, using it as a pillar of support as I rest against it for a few seconds before I have to talk to the idiot I painstakingly have to interact with daily. Deep down, I know I should probably give him a chance, but he broke the many chances I gave him the second he had the audacity to insult me.

Pushing off of the door, albeit begrudgingly, I walk into the main room, stopping to look around for said nemesis.

'Weird', I ponder internally. 'I thought he'd be here to—'

"Well, look who's finally back," a british male voice greets me. "How nice to see you've returned."

'And there it is,' I can't help but comment inside the safety of my thoughts.

Typically, this is the part where I'd reply with something like, "I hope you didn't miss me too much," but after everything that's happened today, any snarky remark I'm usually equipped with falls flat in my mind, dies on my tongue, and instead dissipates into pure exhaustion from the stressful day.

So, with only a brief, dull glance at Loki, I turn around and head to my room to take a hot shower—

Abruptly stop in my tracks, my keys and bag slip out of my grip, and I listen to them clatter to the ground as a jarring realization comes to mind.

"Midguardian?" Loki's confused voice reaches my ears but I ignore him.

All I can think about is the fact that:

I have the cold water today. Not the hot water.

We agreed to take turns with the hot water since it isn't cheap. So we alternate everyday and I put absolutely no effort into reminding myself this morning of the bitterly glacial shower that awaited me once I got back.

So much for a relaxing, de-stressing evening...

It's at this point that my emotional barriers completely collapse and crumble from the fatigue of holding them up for so achingly long. Tears burn behind my tightly closed eyelids, gradually pooling in the edges of my eyes until they finally pour down my misery-etched face, sliding down my cheeks and gathering at my chin before dripping onto the floor I want so badly to collapse onto right now.

My shoulders shake as I let the mound of stress that's been piling on top of me, sitting high on shoulders, to finally tip over, covering my mouth when a sob escapes my lips. It comes out louder than I expected and I'm hoping, just hoping that Loki's left the room and didn't hear it.

My hand only manages to muffle my sobs, I realize too late. But I really don't care at this point.

Everything comes to a very abrupt—very unexpected—halt when I feel a pair of arms, that could only be Loki's, wrap around me and pulling me gently against his chest.

I'm frozen in shock. Before I snap out of it a split second later and struggle to get out of his grip, half-believing he's trying to strangle me after seeming to have desired to do so for so long.

But as I resist his surprisingly comforting embrace, I realize I don't have any energy to even do so, or that I even care if I live or die at this point as I cease resisting Loki's grip any longer, his arms being the only thing holding me up.

Seeming to have expected this, Loki has an arm wrapped firmly around my waist, the other resting against the middle of my upper back, gently stroking my hair as I resume my mental breakdown and sob into his sweatshirt.

I'm too tired to react to this new, softer side of him that I would never have guessed even existed.

Realizing my breathing hasn't calmed in the slightest and has only increased in pace, Loki carefully maneuvers me over to the couch, helping me sit down before kneeling down in front of me, taking one of my hands in his. He reaches up with his opposite hand to wipe away some tears on my face using the pad of his thumb with a shockingly soft touch.

I, on the other hand, am hyperventilating at this point. Every time I try to take deeper breaths, I internally panic and worry I won't be able to keep the rhythm, and spiral back into the pattern of the rapid, shallow breaths I'm taking now. My head feels woozy and my hands are beginning to tingle from lack of proper oxygen circulation.

"Hey," Loki says firmly yet softly at the same time as he uses his free hand to tuck several strands of my hair behind my right ear to get a better view of my face. "I need you to follow what I do. You think you can do that, darling?"

I hear him but I'm a little slow to respond as I take a few seconds before finally nodding.

Loki starts taking slow exaggerated breaths for me to copy. But it's not helping me. Once he realizes this, he takes my hand and places my palm against his chest where his heart beats steadily beneath his ribs, his pulse thrumming below my fingertips.

"Focus on my heartbeat, love," he says calmly.

Following his instructions, I zero in on the feel of his beating heart against my palm. After several painful minutes, I find it easier to breathe as my pulse begins to match the steady pace of his.

"There you are, darling," he breathes, his face relaxing as if he's relieved. But a certain deep worry still remains in his focused gaze. "Are you okay?"

I slowly meet his worried eyes as I mumble in confusion, "W-why are you being w-weird?"

He chuckles before breaking eye contact and looking down in a shameful manner. "Well, actually, I—um...you know, I had intended to, um, avoid forming any personal connections with anyone when I first arrived here due to the fact that I didn't believe anyone was trustworthy enough to befriend. And having not found anyone I could truly trust, I was afraid to care about anyone for a long time, but..." He slowly looks back up to meet my eyes.

"Hold on—you're not saying you care about me...are you?" I clarify.

"Yes..." he mumbles quietly.

"Then why have you been treating me like absolute crap everyday—or better yet since the moment we met each other?" I demand, the question coming out a little more harshly than I meant it to.

"To be fair, darling," he defends, "you and I meeting was not exactly my choice, which only made me withdraw from you all the more. In addition to that, our forced introduction made your presence quite an unpleasant one for a long time."

I open my mouth to protest at the insult when I realize the same could be said from my perspective about him. "Okay...I guess that's fair," I mumble.

"I truly did not even realize I cared for you—to any extent at all, really—until you suddenly began crying in the middle of the living room."

I sigh, suddenly remembering my awful day as I bury my face in my hands, leaning my elbows on my knees. "Oh, please don't bring that up..."

Silence settles between us before Loki finally breaks it after several seconds. "May I ask what has you in such a distressed state?"

"Well," I start, trying not to cry all over again. "To put it simply...I...lost my job." I curse myself when my voice cracks at the end.

"Ah," Loki mumbles, nodding slowly in understanding. "I'm...I'm sorry, I suppose?..."

Once his quite adorably hesitant apology reaches my ears, I burst out laughing. Then, I can't stop as I lean over, clutching my stomach.

(Loki's pov):

I'm stunned frozen as soon as Y/n begins laughing at my failed attempt at providing a small amount of comfort after hearing the tragic news of her losing her job.

But I've never seen her so...carefree. I've never seen her smile.

It lights up her face in the most adorable way, the crinkles at the edges of her eyes complimenting her delightful smile. But the detail that makes it all the more endearing is the small dimple below the left corner of her mouth and the one beside it as she laughs without a care in the world.

Her laugh is angelic and pure music to my ears. I'm surprised at how it makes my heart stutter with fondness, filling it with the determination to make her laugh again, the yearning to hear it again, and the satisfaction of knowing I was the one to make her laugh.

Or, really just...to simply see her smile again.

It truly pained me to treat her so audaciously. I wasn't willing to test if I could trust her or not. And I certainly wasn't about to admit defeat in our frequent battle of wits. That was really the only reason I continued to treat her in the ways I did. I genuinely enjoyed having finally found someone fully capable of standing any chance against my cunning intelligence and quick, sharp wit.

Only now, however, do I realize how much I disliked being so cold to her and refusing to become better acquainted with her.

When I saw her abruptly stop and drop her things, halfway to her room, I wasn't expecting her to start crying. And I most definitely did not expect to feel the overwhelming ache that consumed my chest at the sight of her in such despair as the urge to hold her in my arms greatly out-scaled my pride and I'd immediately rushed over to hold her in my arms and do anything in my power to take her pain away.

I've never felt such intense worry for a mortal. Which makes me wonder just how greatly I've underestimated their significance to this planet—much less, their existence, really. Perhaps they're not as terrible and inferior as I've believed them to be.

Perhaps this woman is proof of that. Although we argue and bicker constantly, she's never hurled a truly evil insult my way. Whereas I, on the other hand, have held nothing back and have given her nothing but my best affronts.

Now I'm beginning to wonder if I've ever made her cry without my awareness of ever doing so. I truly hope not. Despite how much this woman can frustrate me and grate on my nerves, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt her in any way.

Although, deep down, I'm afraid I may have already done so by being so cold and distant and simply just unpleasant to be around.

I watch her in fascination as she slowly settles down from her abrupt laughing fit.

(Y/n's pov):

"That was definitely not the reaction I was anticipating," Loki admits in slight amusement once I've finally settled down.

"Loki," I laugh, slightly out of breath from having laughed so much for such an extent. "Was that...were you...trying to comfort me?"

"Is that not how you mortals verbally console one another?" He asks, his face scrunching—quite adorably, actually—in genuine confusion.

"I mean..." I start to say, trying not to burst into another fit of laughter. "That's one way to do it, I guess..."

"You mortals are so indecipherable," he mumbles, more to himself than to me.

I chuckle. "I have to agree with you on that, actually."

This only makes Loki all the more perplexed as he ponders this silently.

A ghost of a smile curls my lips as I stare off into space, still trying to calm down from my laughing fit. Then snapping back to attention, I turn to look at Loki.

Only to be immediately met with his eyes that are already fixated in my direction and sparkling with...fondness? Endearment? No, that couldn't be right.

"What?" I chuckle, trying to hide the nerves hiding behind it as my body floods with self-consciousness.

"Nothing," he replies, looking down as he smiles to himself.

"No, what is it?"

"I just...didn't realize how much I find your smile so...endearing."

"Oh—um, thank you..." I reply, slightly laughing at his hesitance to finish his sentence and hoping to hide the shy undertone to my reply.

He clears his throat. "Well, um, you should probably continue with what you were trying to do earlier."

My smile immediately drops. "Oh...right."

"Is something wrong, love?" He asks softly in confusion.

"Oh, I just—it-it's nothing," I insist, looking down at my lap, avoiding his eyes.

"Clearly something's bothering you, darling," he says, hesitantly putting a hand over one of mine. "What is it?"

"I'm just, um, I'm not really looking forward to taking a cold shower, is all," I mumble, swallowing hard. "I don't know why I'm making such a big deal of it, really..." I sniffle, wiping away a few tears I didn't realize escaped my eyes.

"You're not going to be taking a cold shower."

"What are you talking about, Loki?" I ask absentmindedly in defeat, wiping my nose with my sleeve and not fully understanding what he's implying. "Of course I am, it's my turn with the cold water, you know we had an agreement to take turns with the hot water."

"What I mean is, darling," he clarifies, "I'm going to forbid you from taking a cold shower tonight."

I snap my head up to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion. "But—"

"No 'but's, darling," he interrupts, walking over to my stuff and picking it up.

"Loki—" I try to protest but he interrupts me again.

"Y/n." He gives me a look.

"Loki," I say in a firm, yet defeated tone. "I'm really not in the mood for this, okay? I..." My voice trails off.

Something else is bothering me but I'm not about to tell Loki that.

However, being the god of Mischief gives him the unfortunate advantage as he walks back over and kneels in front of me from where I'm still sitting on the couch.

"Y/n...there's something you're not saying," he says softly, trying to look me in the eyes.

I remain silent, confirming his assumption.

"What is it, darling?"

"I...don't really wanna talk about it," I whisper, swallowing down a rising lump of tears in my throat.

He nods patiently in understanding, something that would've shocked me out of my depressed haze if the gloomy storm hanging over me wasn't so thick. "Alright."

I stand up, grabbing my stuff from Loki's hands before walking into my room—as Loki calls from the living room, "Use the hot water!"—and shutting the door.

As much as I want to be miserable and shower in the cold water, I listen to Loki and use the hot water instead.

It helps to ease some of my stress, but the hollow ache deep inside of me still lingers as I change into a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt after my shower and partially dry my wet hair.

Lazily walking over to my bed, I flop onto it, turning to lie on my side, facing the wall and staring at a small crack in the lavender paint on the wall. The familiar emptiness spreads throughout my chest and does nothing to help my mood.

I'm just...numb.

I don't feel anything.

I'm not even sure if I even want to, at this point, if I'm being entirely honest. I mean, I—

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts. "Y/n?"

I quietly sigh to myself. "Yes?"

Loki clears his throat. "May I, um, come in?"

"The door's unlocked," I reply monotonously.

I hear the doorknob twist as Loki opens the door and steps into my bedroom. But I don't turn around to face him.

"Is everything okay? Was your shower alright?"

"It was good," I mumble dully as I trace a finger over the crack I had my gaze fixated on.

"Are you alright?"

"I don't know..."

I hear Loki pad closer to the bed. "Why? What's the matter, darling?"

I close my eyes as my heart clenches at the repeat of the different pet names and my chest tightens from the emotional pain squeezing my lungs. "It...it's"—I sigh, curling up even tighter—"nothing."

"I know we've only just started to talk more...openly," Loki starts, the edge of the bed dipping behind me from his weight as he sits down. "But...I hope you that despite our mild disagreements, I do care about you, Y/n, and I want to help however I can. That is, if I am even able to, of course."

"This isn't something that can just...be fixed," I explain sadly, before slowly adding, "I'm not something that can just be fixed..."

"Don't say that, love. There's always a solution to everything."

I sigh. Why can't he just understand?

I sit up and abruptly turn around to face him.

"Loki," I say, slightly raising my voice as my last string of tolerance finally snaps, a look of shock lightly crossing over his face. "I don't think you understand. You can't just fix this—me." I gesture to myself.

"I'm not sure I understand, darling," he replies calmly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I—" I heave an weary sigh, running my hands over my face out of tired frustration. "Forget it. In fact, just forget I said anything."

"What?"

"I said forget it!" I snap at him, suddenly unable to hold back the rage boiling inside me. But it's not directed towards him. Its directed towards me.

I know none of this is his fault and that I shouldn't be taking my anger out on him...but part of me is almost...relieved to finally say out loud what's been suffocating my thoughts for so long and making it impossible think clearly.

And Loki...doesn't even flinch, almost as if he knew I'd lash out.

He holds his hands out as if to tame a wild animal. "Love, calm down, alright? Let's just take a breath."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" I turn away from him, standing up as I walk around the room in a furious and overwhelmed frenzy. "How am I supposed to calm down when I can't seem to understand why—or, better yet, how—everything's suddenly falling apart?"

Loki stands up, not saying a word as I ramble on.

I give a humorless chuckle. "What am I talking about? It's always been falling apart! I was just too blind and stupid to see it. I always have been. I mean, I can never stick with one job for long enough to even earn much income because some way or another, I end up screwing everything up, like always! I can never seem to do anything right anymore—absolutely nothing—as was clearly evident today!"

Loki takes a few steps closer but I barely notice.

"Maybe it's not my job that's the problem! Maybe I'm the problem!" I can feel my throat tightening up from the buildup of emotions, tears glazing over my eyes and pooling in the corners, on the brink of spilling over. "I'm always the problem, aren't I? I'm always what's wrong! I'm just so stupid and broken and...and just so...useless..." My voice tapers off, losing all its previously angry motivation. 

"Y/n."

I laugh sadly to myself. "Who am I kidding? I was so stupid to think I could fix things when all I seem to do is make things worse! For me and for everyone else!" I blink and the tears finally spill over, rolling down my face, like gushing rivers of anguish.

My breath quivers, sobs crawling their way up my throat.

"Darling..." Loki's only a few steps away, continuing his slow advance towards me as I continue to talk, my voice taking on a softer volume out of fear that if raise it any higher, I'll reach my breaking point—although, at this point, in a sense, I've already reached that point.

"I don't even know how to do this anymore. And I'm tired of it—my life, my job, myself—everything! It's pointless—all of it!"

Loki finally reaches me and cautiously rests his hands on my upper arms, but I shove them off and take a step back as I continue to cry.

"Why? Why do I feel so...Why am I so...so worthless? Why can't I just do one thing right? Just one thing..."

Loki takes a step towards me, and I bring my arms up to push him away, hit him, anything to release any amount of my built-up frustration, but he catches my forearms before I can. "Y/n..."

"No, I don't want to hear what you have to say!" I cry, resisting him as tears stream down my face, sobs choking my airways, despair squeezing my lungs.

"Darling, stop." He speaks firmly but with a gentle underlying tone.

"No!" I weep, trying to stop sobbing and focus more on fighting my way out of Loki's grip.

But he's so much stronger than me and easily prevents me from breaking free as I thrash around in his grasp, crying until I tire myself out and slowly give up, collapsing in Loki's ready arms that immediately catch me before I can fall.

He carefully lowers us to the ground when my legs give out, where he then pulls me into his chest, letting me cry into his shoulder, his arms encircling my body, encasing me in his embrace, like a shield of comfort.

"I...I don't want to keep going like this, Loki," I whisper, despairingly against his chest. "It's so heavy—all this...pain. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of living, I just want to end it...I just want it all to end..."

"Don't say that, darling," Loki hushes, gently, petting my head softly. "You deserve to be alive."

"But I don't wanna be alive," I snivel, turning to bury my face in Loki's chest.

"I know, love," he whispers to me, leaning his cheek against the top of my head. "But you're not alone. I'm here, and I promise, darling, I will do everything in my power to help you through this."

"You shouldn't, Loki," I murmur against his chest. "I'm not...I'm not worth it."

"That's where you're wrong, Y/n," he replies as he pulls back to gently cup my face in his hands and stare intently into my eyes. "Listen, darling, not many mortals—or, really any for that matter—can say they're the reason the god of mischief's gone soft. Not to mention, you're the first to trust me since I've been here."

"What do you mean, 'gone soft'?" I ask quietly, genuinely curious to know if the legendary god of mischief has a soft side to him.

"Well..." he rubs the back of his neck almost nervously as he explains, "I suppose you could say I have a...a soft spot for you—as I believe you mortals would put it."

Wow, I must be really cracked in the head if I thought I just heard him say he—the Loki of Asgard—has a soft spot...for me.

I blink once. Twice. Before finally asking to confirm, "You have a soft spot?"

"...Yes..."

"For me?"

He sighs, seemingly now regretting telling me. "Yes..."

"That's....wow—okay. I have to admit, that's not at all what I was expecting..."

He nods uncomfortably.

"Well, it's nice to know you don't hate me," I mumble.

"What do you mean, darling," Loki frowns in confusion. "I never hated you."

Now it's my turn to look confused. "Well then...you certainly had an odd way of showing how much you 'didn't' hate me."

He grimaced. "Ah, that. I do deeply apologize for my immature behavior."

"That's putting it lightly," I snark with a small smile, a certain warmth blooming inside my chest  at how easily we oh-so-casually exchange such simple—not to mention, significantly less hurtful—banter.

He raises his brows in surprised amusement as he retaliates with his own sarcastic attitude. "Oh, is it now?"

"I'm afraid so," I playfully reply, unable to hide the grin on my face.

My heart warms, stuttering inside my chest when I see he's returned the smile. But there's a brief flash of something else sparkling in the glint in his eyes...

I look down after several seconds, needing to break away from his intense gaze.

And that's when the doubt seeps in.

And then follows the sadness as it sinks in once again. Just like it always has, just like it always does, and just like it always will.

Loki, somehow sensing the shift in my mood, pulls me back into his chest, just holding me as silent tears escape my eyes.

"You're going to be alright, love," he murmurs against my head. "No matter what happens, I will help you through this. You won't be alone as long as I'm here, love."

Although his words mean a lot to me, it doesn't eliminate the cloud of gloom hanging over me, nor does it mend the gaping hole in my chest.

But very faintly do I feel a spark of warmth deep inside me. A kindling of a flame Loki's somehow managed to ignite, even after I've tried months to relight it, to giving it the nurturing it so desperately needs.

Fortunately for me, I have Loki to help rekindle the once-dying ember inside me.