archieimagines:

Imagine telling Loki you love his long hair.

requested by: anon
warnings: hair pulling (not the good kind), a bit of violence, a bit of green blood.

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Tony and Bruce had expressed their reluctance when a call came in asking the Avengers to help with a mass prison breakout. But Steve had insisted. So out you went.

And what you met there shocked you. These were no ordinary prisoners, no run-of-the-mill thieves and petty assaulters. These were people with strange abilities, powerful associates, and steely determination. And there were hundreds of them. They swarmed over you like ants, but with considerably larger fists. And a strangled cry from behind you as you knocked a snarling woman from her feet told you that one had just gotten their hands on Loki.

You whirled on your feet to see your friend being bent backward, nearly in half. Fatigued from the battle, Loki had managed to get himself caught, and now a simply massive man had his hand firmly tangled in Loki’s dark hair, and had just bared the prince’s throat for some nefarious purpose. You narrowed your eyes for a moment, judged the distance, and then in one fluid movement, you pulled a small device from your belt and threw it. It connected solidly with the prisoner’s forehead where it burst open, dousing his face in a green fluid that had him swaying within seconds.

The man’s grip on Loki’s hair began to loosen, and the trickster took quick advantage of the opportunity to wriggle away, wincing in pain. He spun quickly on one foot, the other foot flying up to hit the prisoner square in the chest. And that was the end of that particular fight. On to the next.

Some hours later, back at home, you found yourself wandering the tower rather aimlessly. You liked time to yourself after a fight, but it was hard for you to sit still. Eventually you stumbled upon Loki, sitting in a hallway with great wide windows, staring out at the city. Wordlessly, you sat beside him.

Loki was fiddling absently with a strand of hair, his eyebrows furrowed. If he had even noticed your arrival, he did not acknowledge it. After a while, you broke the silence.

“Something wrong?”

Loki sighed, lifting his eyes to the grey clouds. His hands fell to his lap. He didn’t answer immediately. He seemed to be wrestling with himself. Finally, he turned to you, and all at once you could feel his shockingly blue eyes boring into your very heart. Typical.

“I have always felt…” he began, then hesitated. He shook his head slightly and began again, more certain now. “I have always felt that it was foolish to have long hair when you find yourself in battle as often as my brother and I do.”

You nodded. You could certainly see the wisdom in that; you always made a point to keep your hair out of the way as much as possible in those situations.

“But Thor…” Loki continued, averting his eyes. “His hair has always been long. People have always found it quite attractive. And Thor has always wanted to be attractive.” Loki sighed again. “And I have always wanted to be like my brother.”

You nodded again, reaching out to rest a hand on Loki’s knee. He looked back up at you. Your breath caught in your throat.

“And now…”

“And now Thor’s hair is short,” you finished for him.

“Yes. And he was devastated. But now it seems people find him twice as handsome as they did before.” The trickster laughed dryly. “And after today, I found myself thinking that perhaps I should cut my hair, too. But then… perhaps it would be nice to not be like my brother for a change.”

He lapsed into a thoughtful silence for a while, his hand idly finding yours.

“I love your long hair,” you said decisively. Loki seemed almost startled.

“Do you?”

“I do,” you assured him. And you did. You had always wanted to… Well. Why not? Before you could stop yourself, you had leaned forward, threaded your fingers into that lovely, long hair of his – which was just as soft as you had always dreamed – and pulled him close, before kissing him with all your strength.

A few breathless moments later, you broke apart. Loki’s eyes were wild.

“Perhaps I won’t cut my hair after all,” he said.

You laughed and leaned in for another kiss.

written by: brooke