Loki Laufeyson Oneshots and Imagines

the perks of insomnia (oneshot)

a/n: just a fluffy oneshot bc I'm a whore for loki. also this isn't proofread so sorry if there are typos

***

you were friendly enough with loki. as friendly as it could get with him, anyway. the kind of friendly where you would smile at him when you passed him by in the hallways; when you helped him gather his fallen books in the library; when you asked for his input in meetings, knowing no one else was going to.

he had this mysterious edge to him that only intrigued you more and more with each passing day. he was quiet and reserved during the days, not talking to anyone and only speaking when spoken to. often he would stroke his face, perhaps remembering the hateful muzzle he was forced to wear when he first came to the compound.

it wasn't right, the coldness they treated him with. as if he were a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. could they not see that he had feelings too? feeling that mattered just as much as their own?

***

tossing, turning, sleepless and exhausted. it was tiring, being an insomniac. you had hoped that over time, sleep would creep into your brain and give your body rest from its trials and tribulations. but the insomnia was relentless, and any sleep you managed only brought nightmares, leaving you more tired than before.

the room was pitch black. you had thought about getting a nightlight from the store to brighten up the room during the night, because, though you could barely admit it to yourself, you were afraid of the dark. not necessarily the absence of light itself, but the horrors that lie waiting when the moon comes up; the horrors that plagued your memory and your dreams.

you sat up in bed and rubbed your face, sick of not being able to sleep. months now it had been like this, months since the battle that nearly took your life.

memories of the accident came flooding back, and subconsciously, your hands drifted to the scar on your abdomen. a bullet wound received from a carefully targeted bullet fired by the enemy you and the avengers were fighting at the time: the Masked Assassins. sort of a tacky name, but their skills were certainly a good match for the avengers'.

knowing you were not going to get any sleep tonight, plagued by the memories of white hospital rooms and indescribable pain, you rose from your bed and carried yourself out your bedroom door.

the hallway was silent and smelled faintly like lemon cleaning products, a smell distinct to the compound. the lights were turned off, but there was a glow at the end of the hallway that intrigued you.

there shouldn't be anyone awake at this hour. then again, you were awake at this hour.

figuring that a cup of tea might help settle your nerves, you stalked down the hall and found yourself at the kitchen, discovering that the light was already on.

there was one lone person sitting at the round dining table. you could recognize that raven black hair anywhere.

loki's head was in his hands, looking distressed as he sat there sulking without any company.

"oh, hey, loki," you said, arriving at the cabinet above the coffee maker where the tea was kept.

"y/n, what are you doing up this late?" he asked, genuinely curious.

you cast him a warm smile over your shoulder. "could ask the same about you. couldn't sleep?"

"something like that," he grumbled.

you poured water into your favorite mug and placed it in the microwave to warm up.

you took a seat next to him at the table. "anything i can help with?"