Loki Laufeyson x Reader One Shots CLOSED

Paint

Paint
Request for Samantha
"A Loki X Reader one. Someone new is moving in, it can be the reader, and they need help painting. They get into a paint war or something."

You stood in the empty living room of your new apartment and looked around. The paint was chipping off the walls in several places, making the whole building look cheap and dirty. The landlord had informed you that you could repaint as long as you used the original color.
You looked down at the two buckets of cream colored paint that you'd picked up earlier. All of your belongings were still packed inside boxes and stuffed tightly into the backseat and trunk of your car. You figured you should paint first and then unpack.
You'd left the front door open for some fresh air while you were painting, and a knock on the doorframe startled you. You spun on your heel and met the emerald eyes of a very handsome man, with pale skin and raven hair. He smiled kindly as he leaned against the doorframe.
"I didn't mean to startle you," he said in a silky voice, and his English accent made you melt. "I just wanted to meet my new neighbor."
"You're my neighbor?" you replied, trying to keep the delight out of your voice.
He nodded. "I live right next door." He looked around the empty room and spotted the buckets on the floor. "Ahh. Painting?"
It was your turn to nod. "The landlord said I could paint if I used the same color. The paint chipping off everywhere looks awful."
"Would you want some help with that?" he offered sweetly.
Your insides turned to jelly. "Sure... If you're sure I'm not wasting your time."
He shook his head. "Not at all. It would be my pleasure to spend an afternoon with the pretty new girl."
You felt a blush on your cheeks. "Come on in."
He sauntered inside and picked up a paint roller. You had bought a two-pack in case one broke. You popped the lid off the first can and poured some paint into the roller pan. You shared a soft smile with your neighbor, whose name you just realized you'd forgotten to ask, as you dipped your roller into the paint.
"How rude of me," he said, following your actions, "coming into your apartment without even asking your name."
"It's alright," you countered. "My name is (y/n)."
"A beautiful name," he replied. "It suits you." He offered you his free hand. "Loki."
You accepted his hand and nibbled your lower lip at the contact. He was warm and his skin was soft and you were glad you had an excuse to be so close to him.

Sometime later, you were about halfway done painting the living room. Loki bent down to acquire more paint for his roller, but he stood too fast and paint went splashing out to the sides. A surprised gasp from you informed him that a couple drops had landed on your dark wash jeans. He turned to you and raised his hands submissively, but the grin on your lips told him you weren't mad. Instead, when you went to dip your own roller, you intentionally lifted it too fast and splashed some paint in his direction. He chuckled when a few drops attacked his emerald shirt sleeve, which was rolled up to his elbow.
"Is that how you want to play this?" he asked teasingly, turning to you with his roller dripping with paint. He jerked his arm forward and all of the excess paint on the roller launched at you, spotting your torso.
You gaped at him. "This means war." You lifted your roller, copying his actions, and paint sprayed his face and hair.
You both constantly dipped your rollers, acquiring more paint, and flung it at each other. You knelt down beside your pan so you'd be quicker on the reload. He remained standing in hopes of blocking your attacks. Paint was flying, and only small spots were hitting the walls. The carpet, which was originally grey, was now grey with creamy patches, cream specks littered your hair and clothes, Loki's hair was more paint than hair, and there definitely wasn't enough paint left in the cans to finish the apartment.
Loki stepped towards you, armed with a freshly dipped roller, but he tripped over the pan and tumbled towards the ground. He landed atop you, knocking you backwards from where you'd been sitting on your knees. You let out a surprised laugh and tried pushing him away, but you found that he was holding himself close to you. Your hands were on his chest when he straightened his arms, hovering above you. Your (e/c) met his emerald orbs as he stared down at you. Without saying a word, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. They were warm and soft and they melded perfectly against yours. You were suddenly self-conscious about your own lips. Did they feel as good to him as his did to you? His tongue dragging across your bottom lip ceased your worries, and your hands slid up his neck to tangle in his hair. You adjusted beneath him, wrapping a leg around his, keeping him against you. He rested his weight on one of his elbows which sat beside your head. His other hand slid down your side to grip your hip. You melted when he nibbled your lower lip, and you let out a soft sound of contentment. The fact that you had just met this man and knew nothing about him didn't stop your hands or lips. He was gorgeous and kind and he was kissing you.
He pulled back for air and smiled down at you. You kept your hands in his hair, worried that he was going to decide the last few minutes had been a mistake and take off. Instead he nuzzled his nose against yours and pecked your lips softly.
"That was something," you commented, earning a chuckle in reply.
"Something amazing," he countered. You blushed and nibbled your lower lip.
"I don't normally make out with my new neighbor," you stated, looking up into his sparkling eyes.
"I should hope not," he replied with a smile. "I don't think I like the idea of you making out with someone else."
"Maybe you should give me something else to focus on," you said cheekily.
"Gladly," he grinned, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours again.