I like her

So, I’ve finally had the time to sit down and compile a master list of all of the fics I’ve posted on here! I’ll continue to keep this updated as I publish things. If anyone wants to be added onto some sort of tag list, please let me know, and thank you all for your support!

One Shots:

Feelings

Torn Apart

Frigga’s Son

Forever, Officially

Quiet Nights

read it on ao3 here, listen to the playlist here, find previous parts here!

       Loki looked up as the assassin turned to speak to you, his smug expression still firmly settled on his face. That was, until he saw the clothes you’d changed into: a pair of black leggings under an oversized sweatshirt nearly the same shade of green he usually wore, and a pair of socks to match. He wasn’t sure what the word “Brooklyn” on the front of the top meant, but he didn’t really care; he was still trying to process the sight of you practically wearing his colors. He was certain it wasn’t intentional, and yet…

       Realizing he was practically gawking at you, and not wanting to get yelled at for it by the assassin, he quickly tore his gaze away from you, instead looking down at Aksel, who had also looked to you when you entered the room. As Loki resumed petting the dog, though, those warm brown eyes were once again locked on his own.

       Okay?

       Fine. Loki’s silent response to your dog was less than kind, but he was so shaken up by the sight of you that he was having trouble keeping his emotions under control. He wanted to say he found the way that Aksel nuzzled his head into Loki’s thigh annoying, but there was something comforting about the weight of the dog against his leg.

       “Aksel, leave him alone. Let him eat in peace.”

read it on ao3 here, listen to the playlist here, find previous parts here!

       You hurried back to your apartment, Aksel hot on your heels as you walked, your face burning lightly with embarrassment and discomfort; the last time you’d been around a man in that little clothing it… hadn’t exactly ended well. You shook your head then, banishing that train of thought from your mind.

       You’re fine, you reminded yourself silently, taking as deep of a breath as you could manage as you opened your apartment door. You’re alright. Nobody here is ever going to do anything like that to you, and they won’t let anyone else hurt you that way, either. Aksel had barely slipped into your apartment behind you before you were leaning back against the door, eyes squeezed shut tight as you fought to keep your breathing steady.

       The cold wet of Aksel’s nose gave you just the right shock to bring you out of your head a bit as it pressed gently into the skin of your thigh. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him, his own reassuring brown eyes gazing right back up at you. Not for the first time, you were nearly overwhelmed with love and appreciation for this companion of yours, and it brought the tiniest of smiles to your lips.

       “Thanks,” you told him quietly, reaching down to scratch behind his ears, the slight tremor in your fingers causing you to wrinkle your nose; even though the anxiety you were feeling was involuntary, and this was far from the first time you’d felt this way, it still felt like an overreaction to something that the majority of people would surely see as rather insignificant. Stop that, you shook your head, doing your best to stop that train of thought before you spiraled further.

read it on ao3 here, listen to the playlist here, find previous parts here!

        After returning to his apartment, Loki had stayed up, pacing until he heard the redheaded healer return, apparently along with the Captain, the Sergeant, and the Assassin. He told himself it was just to make sure that his new neighbor wouldn’t die on her bathroom floor, and that he wouldn’t wind up being blamed for it. He wasn’t worried about you, that would be absurd; he worried about nobody but himself, and he certainly didn’t worry about a silly little midgardian woman he’d only known for about a week, no matter how much kindness you might have shown him thus far. 

        The commotion through the walls had given him pause, and when the healer -- agent Daniels? -- asked the AI what had happened before she had arrived to help her friend, he tensed; the computer program had promised not to tell the other occupants of the tower what he had done, but now that the moment of truth had finally arrived, he wasn’t so sure how reliable the piece of technology was. 

        “I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am.”

        Those seven words nearly had the trickster feeling lightheaded with relief, and he let out a soft breath; J.A.R.V.I.S. had kept his promise after all. Now that he was sure that no one would know of his uncharacteristically selfless act until he wanted them to, Loki retired to his bedroom, changing into a pair of black silk pajama pants with a wave of his hand and a short green wave of his seidr traveling the length of his body. He settled between the cool green of his sheets, hands beneath his head as he stared at the ceiling, still telling himself that his act of heroism was actually quite selfish, those thoughts eventually lulling him to sleep.

        You wound up sleeping through your alarm the next morning, and it wasn’t until Askel began nudging his head under your chin rather insistently that you woke again. You pushed him aside as you rolled over, picking up your phone and squinting at the brightness of the screen. When you saw that it was nearly 10:30, though, you swore, throwing your blankets off and nearly tripping over yourself in your rush to get to the door to take Aksel out to go to the bathroom. You crammed your feet into the first shoes you could find, clumsily clipping Aksel’s leash to his collar, before you pulled the door open. Ever true to his training, the black lab didn’t pull on the leash, but it was clear to you just how badly he needed to get outside by how antsy he was as you waited for the elevator.

        “I’m sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” you apologized to your furry friend. He wagged his tail as he looked back up at you, and you decided to take that as an acceptance of your apology. As soon as the doors opened, the pair of you stepped onto the elevator, with Aksel jumping up to push the appropriate button for the lobby before you could do it yourself. The ride down was short, and soon enough you were outside, walking with your companion to the little grassy area around the back of the tower that Tony had installed not long after you moved in. Aksel was quick about his business, and after you had cleaned up after him, the pair of you made your way back up to your floor, though in significantly less of a rush than your trip down.

        You removed Aksel’s leash from his collar in the elevator back upstairs; after all, he wouldn’t need it back in the residential part of the tower. The doors dinged open once you reached your floor, and while Aksel initially started to head back to your apartment, he seemed to perk up a bit the closer he got to the kitchen, though you weren’t sure why. Before you knew it, your furry friend had changed course, trotting eagerly into the kitchen, his tail wagging wildly.

        “Aksel, come on,” you called, trying to get him to come back to your side; you didn’t need him bothering whoever was in the kitchen while you got changed. It hadn’t been until the elevator ride back up that it dawned on you what you were wearing: a pair of pajama shorts that had begun to fade from being washed so many times and a ratty old t-shirt, and while those things were comfortable and perfect for sleeping, you would prefer it if you could at least put on a pair of leggings or something before engaging with the other people who lived on your floor. Unfortunately, though, Aksel apparently had other plans, completely ignoring your summons and continuing on into the kitchen as if you’d never spoken in the first place. You hesitated for a moment, then decided to follow him; your stomach was beginning to protest the fact that you hadn’t eaten in over twelve hours, especially after the ordeal in your bathroom the night before.

        Assuming it was either Michelle or Natasha in the kitchen, you allowed your current appearance to become less of a concern, knowing you’d all seen each other in your pajamas enough times that it wouldn’t be strange. As you walked, a yawn pushed its way out of your mouth, and you rubbed your eyes for a moment, hoping to clear the last vestiges of sleep from them before you started making your breakfast. Reaching the fridge, you dropped your hand from your face, pulling the door open and grabbing the carton of eggs. Upon closing the door, you turned to head to the stove, but you were startled to see Loki leaning against the counter, staring down at Aksel as the lab sat at his feet, staring right back up at him and continuing to wag his tail, as if they were the best of friends.

        The sight startled you so much, in fact, that the carton of eggs slipped from your hands and crashed to the floor, breaking and sending yolk all across the tile floor. The sound drew Loki’s attention, and he looked from the mess on the floor to your face, a dark brow arched elegantly on his forehead.

        “Are you always this clumsy?” he asked, lifting a hand from where his arms had been crossed in front of his chest and waving his fingers a bit. A small flash of green light had the mess cleaned from the floor and a now-intact carton of eggs on the counter beside you.

        The trickster’s words caused you to blush lightly. “Clumsy? I don’t get what you mean,” you replied, the words tasting like the lie they were on your tongue; you just hoped he wouldn’t call you on it.

        A scoff of laughter immediately told you that he knew you were lying to him. “What do I mean by clumsy?” he asked, a faint whisper of exasperation creeping out from behind the trickster’s mental defenses. “Well, yesterday you dropped an entire bag of groceries in front of me, then proceeded to slice your hand open -- a wound you lied about the severity of -- and just now you dropped how many?” He glanced over at the carton resting on the counter again. “About a dozen eggs on the floor when you saw me. That is what I mean by clumsy.”

        His words were so blunt that they threw you for a moment, though you couldn’t exactly say you were surprised -- you were aware of the sorcerer’s reputation, after all -- and you blushed a bit more, staying silent for a moment as you pulled a pan and the cooking spray from their respective cabinets. Before you started cooking, though, something occurred to you, and you frowned, turning back to face the man leaning against the counter. “How did you know I lied about the cut on my hand last night?”

        The question elicited an eye roll from the raven haired man, and he sighed as he leveled you with an irritated look. “Your friends aren’t exactly quiet, you know, and the walls aren’t quite as thick as you’d probably hope. I heard them all in your room after they returned. You sure gave them a fright, didn’t you?” There seemed to be a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, but the longer you looked at his face, the less sincere the smirk seemed. “See something you like?” he taunted, after you stared at him for just a moment too long. 

        Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as you turned away from him, grabbing a spatula from the drawer. “I was thinking about the fact that you could hear everything happening in my place, but that I could’ve bled out and you wouldn’t have done anything about it.” Because you were distracted gathering other ingredients for breakfast, you didn’t see the way Loki’s expression fell, and by the time you turned to face him again, everything you needed to make french toast set out on the counter beside you, he’d schooled his features into a look of boredom once again. “But, to show you that I’m not holding a grudge, I’m going to offer to make you breakfast. So, are you hungry?”

        “That depends. What are you making?” 

        “French toast. It’s a little sweet, and you can put things on it. I usually just use syrup, but we also have powdered sugar in the pantry, and in the fridge we have fruit and chocolate syrup and stuff.” You shrugged slightly then, not really sure how else to describe the dish. Loki eyed all the ingredients on the counter for a moment, as if weighing his options, before he nodded. 

        “If you’re going to be making it anyways, then I suppose I would be able to help you finish whatever you made.” His words made you roll your eyes again, but before you could say anything, he had pushed himself away from the counter and was making his way to the big table on the other side of the room, Aksel at his heels. “Will you be playing music again like you did last night?”

        “I can ask J.A.R.V.I.S. to turn something on, if you’d like.” You glanced over at the god again, and as much as he tried to appear indifferent, you could feel his curiosity tickling the edges of your consciousness. “Alright. J.A.R.V.I.S., could you play us some music again?”

        “Of course, miss. Any requests?”

        “Hmm,” you thought for a moment, cracking a couple eggs into a bowl. “How about some Vivaldi?” There was no verbal response from the AI, but within seconds the sound of violins filled the kitchen, much like the night before. And, like the night before, the music was the only sound, besides the noise of your cooking. You whisked eggs together in a bowl with a splash of milk, a little bit of sugar and your favorite spices mixed in for good measure; you didn’t bother to ask Loki what he would or wouldn’t like, knowing that would only draw out the cooking process, and you were too hungry to have the patience for all that.

        After spraying the pan with the nonstick spray, you dredged a piece of bread in the egg mix, then dropped it into the pan, smiling to yourself as the satisfying sound of the sizzle. You let the piece cook for about two minutes before you flipped it over with your spatula, allowing the other side to cook for a couple minutes, scooping it onto a plate on the opposite side of the stove.

        And so the process went, with you continuing to make french toast until you ran out of egg mix. By the time you were finished, you’d used almost an entire loaf of bread, and you had an almost ridiculous stack of french toast. Pulling two more plates from the cabinet, you glanced over your shoulder at your breakfast companion. “How many pieces would you like?”

        “How big are they?”

        You looked down at the finished toast, framing a piece with your fingers before lifting your hands to eye level. “About that big.” 

        Loki seemed to consider for a moment before he answered. “Three should suffice.” You nodded slightly, using a fork to transfer three of the pieces onto his plate, then a few pieces onto your own. You carried the plates to the table, setting Loki’s down in front of him. As you returned some of the ingredients you’d used to their places in the fridge, you contemplated the toppings you’d mentioned to Loki before you’d started cooking. You considered asking him what he wanted, but ultimately decided to just bring everything to the table and let him choose what he wanted.

        A few moments later you arrived back at the table, arms full of fruit, syrup bottles, whipped cream cans, cinnamon, even things you never put on your own french toast, but had seen your friends in the tower use, like sprinkles (a favorite of Nat’s), chocolate ships (a favorite of Bucky’s) and, oddly enough, shaved almonds (a favorite of Banner’s). The raven haired prince clearly wasn’t expecting such a spectacle, if his eyebrows raised to his hairline were anything to go by, and you just smirked.

        “This is more for my benefit than yours. I want to see how much sugar you can handle before you eat yourself sick.” You sat down in your own seat, grabbing the bottle of maple syrup and pouring it over your toast, but before you took your first bite, you realized neither of you had a drink. Leaving Loki to survey his choices, you got up and poured each of you a glass of milk before returning to the table.

        By the time you’d returned to your seat, Loki had followed your lead and poured a bit of syrup on his own plate, but had gone a few steps further by adding whipped cream, mini chocolate chips, and a little drizzle of chocolate syrup to top it all off. You wrinkled your nose slightly at the sheer amount of sugar he had managed to add to one plate, but you said nothing, just tucking into your own food and watching him curiously.

        You nearly choked on the bite of breakfast in your mouth as you laughed when Loki swore in a language you didn’t understand, screwing his eyes shut for a moment. “I think that’s more sugar than I’ve ever had at one time in my life.”

        “Is it too much for your spoiled princely palate?” You asked, smirking as you sipped on your glass of milk. He scowled at you, but instead of answering he simply shoveled another bite into his mouth. You shrugged then, returning your attention to your own breakfast.

        “Do Midgardians regularly consume this much sugar?” The prince asked after a moment, and you looked up to see him wiping a bit of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth, and you were a little shocked to see that he had already finished eating.

        “I mean, some people do.”

        “But you don’t.”

        “Sometimes I do. I like sweets, just in moderation.”

        “Hmm,” was the trickster’s only response, and he glanced over to the kitchen again, where the plate with the rest of the pieces of toast sat. You followed his gaze, then looked back to the man across from you.

        “Help yourself,” you told him. “You can have as much as you can handle.” 

        He eyed you suspiciously for a moment, but eventually decided you weren’t trying to trick him in any way, and he carried his plate back into the kitchen, getting himself a couple more slices of toast that he dressed up just like his first serving after returning to his seat. It wasn’t long before you finished your own food, which was more than enough for you, and you finished your glass of milk as you stood, carrying your dishes to the sink. As you walked, you felt Loki’s gaze trail up your body, and you suddenly became aware of how little you were actually wearing. You felt your face begin to burn with discomfort, and you quickly set your dishes in the sink, not bothering to wash them right away.

        “Well,” you said, after clearing your throat awkwardly. “I’m, uh. I’m gonna go, uh… yeah. I’ll be back later to clean up. You can eat as much as you want in the meantime.” You hurried out of the kitchen then, arms now hugged tightly across your chest. Aksel, sensing your sharp change in mood, got up and followed you back to your apartment, gaze intent on you in case you needed his help.

        Loki glanced up and watched you as you walked from the table to the sink, a bit curious at the difference in your attire from what you’d been wearing when you made dinner last night. His gaze was drawn to your face when he sensed the shift in your demeanor, and he was confused as to what could have suddenly made you so uncomfortable, to the point that you wouldn’t even look in his general direction. He raised an eyebrow slightly as he watched you scurry away, but he said nothing, thoughts still wandering as he continued eating the second serving of the food you’d made. Maybe soon he’d be able to puzzle you out.

life has been insane for me for a while, but just wanted to say I haven’t abandoned No Safety in My Arms! it’s had a handful more chapters posted on AO3 (along with a couple timestamp ficlets to go with it!) so I'll be adding those chapters here over the next few days.