Summary: Loki is surprised by an unexpected request.
Rating G for fluff
———
“Look, Brother, all I’m saying is to try to be nicer to the Midgardians.”
Thor bumped Loki with his shoulder as they walked along, winding their way through the people who hurried around them.
“And I ask again, why?” Loki sighed. “It’s not like any of them will reciprocate.”
“You don’t know that,” Thor replied, patiently. “They have short memories, and they haven’t formed a mob to demand that you be burned at the stake, have they?”
“These haven’t.” Loki gestured to the ones going about their daily business.
“These are the ones who you should be concerned with.”
Loki made a rude sound, but nodded his head slightly, although he wondered again why he should make the effort. Thor had talked him into taking a stroll outside Avengers Tower, and while it was nice to get some fresh air and sun, he didn’t really like being surrounded by the mortals. It wasn’t that he had anything to fear from them, and most gave him a wide berth, it was just that the ones in this big city were always rushing to and fro.
Just as he started to reply, three young women stopped them, with the request to have a picture made with Thor. It was the third time during their walk that they’d been stopped. His brother was more than agreeable, while Loki was very relieved that he hadn’t been invited to participate. He waited, silent, and impatient, until the fans got their picture.
“Thank you!”
“Of course.”
The women waved before heading up the street while giggling, which grated on Loki’s nerves.
“One day that will be you,” Thor told him, with a grin.
“Please, spare me.” Loki rolled his eyes, much to Thor’s amusement.
“You know, you didn’t have to dress so formally just for a walk,” Thor commented, as they continued on their way.
“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” Loki asked, a bit defensively.
“Someone who doesn’t want attention doesn’t wear a black suit on a casual walk.”
Loki huffed in annoyance. “At least I’m not dressed like a Midgardian woodsman.”
“Lumberjack,” Thor corrected, with a slight laugh.
They walked another half-block before being stopped again.
“Excuse me?”
Thor smiled at the lone woman who approached them, hesitantly. He saw that she was a little nervous, perhaps due to Loki’s scowl.
“I’m sorry to bother you…but I wonder if I could get a picture?” She asked.
“Certainly!”
Thor got into photo-op mode by leaning down slightly but instead of snapping the picture, she offered her phone. Loki nearly snorted at his brother’s confused expression.
“With Loki, if it’s okay?” She said, looking at the dark haired prince.
It was Thor’s turn to stifle a laugh. “He’d be delighted!”
“Actually, I’d rather —“ Loki started to decline.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to-“ she told him.
“He wants to,” Thor grinned, as he took her gently by the shoulders and moved her to Loki’s side. “Luckily, I’ve learned how to use a camera phone.”
Thor then instructed his brother to put his arm around her, causing Loki to shoot him a glare, while being careful not to scare the little mortal. While Thor fiddled with the phone, Loki felt a slight movement on his jacket pocket, and he reacted quickly in grasping her wrist. She gave a soft yelp of surprise, and looked up at him.
“I don’t carry coin in my pockets that you can steal,” he said, and this time he didn’t hide his displeasure.
“I wasn’t trying to steal anything! Honestly!”
“You were trying to take something out of my pocket.”
“Loki, let go before you hurt her!” Thor tried to diffuse the situation.
“No, I wasn’t taking anything out…I was -“
“What, then?”
“Loki, let her go.”
Loki then realized that he held her arm up and she was on her tiptoes while trying to relieve the pressure on her shoulder. He slowly lowered his hand, but kept hold of her wrist. She didn’t try to pull away, making him abruptly realize that she didn’t appear to be frightened of him.
“I was trying to put something in!”
He and Thor both noticed the slip of paper that she grasped in her fingertips, and Thor was quick to take it from her first. Loki then snatched it from him, only for his brother to take it back. Then the young woman retrieved it from Thor, and tried to stuff it into her pocket, however, Loki took it once more.
“What is this?” He asked, after a quick glance at the note’s contents, which then disappeared with a slight flash of green before Thor could grab it back.
“My phone number,” she murmured.
“What?”
The answer surprised him, prompting him to have her repeat herself. Thor’s smile was wide, and Loki wanted to knock the expression off his face.
“My number,” she replied. “I thought maybe we could get coffee, or something.”
“I see.” Loki released her. “I’m not certain—“
“Well, you have the number, call me….. maybe?” she said, not doing a good job of hiding her disappointment. “I should go.”
She took her phone from Thor, and then walked away a short distance before turning back to the men. She smiled at Loki, and wiggled her fingers in a little wave before mouthing the words “call me,” and pantomimed holding a phone to her ear before disappearing into the crowd.
Despite himself, Loki smiled but when Thor cleared his throat, his expression changed to another scowl.
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ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine that you struggle with sleep walking, and one night you manage to get to Loki’s room. The next morning he wakes to find you snuggled against his back, and wonders how you ever got past the security spells he’d cast.
RATING: General
NOTES/WARNINGS: just fluffy stuff, sleepwalking
— —
You’ve been up for close to seventy-two hours straight, copying VHS surveillance tapes to digital in an attempt to isolate and identify players suspected of gearing up for a major weapons heist. Any attempts to make you rest before you collapsed were rebuffed: you were determined to complete the process and make positive ID’s as soon as you could.
“Hey.”
The greeting was soft so that you weren’t startled when Steve came up behind you. He glanced over the monitors before looking at you.
“Hey, Cap,” you replied, and turned your head slightly. “I’m almost done, just have about twelve hours left-“
“That's why I’m here,” he said. “You’ve been at it for close to three days, and you need to rest.”
“I’m good,” you protested. “Jarvis has already isolated footage for me, I just have to-“
“Rest,” he said, firmly. “Jarvis, bookmark where she’s at, but she’s not allowed to start again until she’s eaten and slept.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But I-“ You turned your chair to face Steve after the computer monitors went blank.
“No.” He urged you out of the chair and then ushered you from the room. “Tony agrees, and none of us want you to become overtired.”
You still wanted to protest, but there wasn’t any point in doing so. Jarvis wouldn’t allow you to access the files until Tony or Steve agreed to it, and there wasn’t a way to subvert the AI. You knew this because you’d tried several times, just to see if you could and to see how badly you could annoy Tony.
You had managed one small victory: you’d renamed some of his music files, so that instead of the heavy metal songs he liked to blare at random, Jarvis would end up playing teen bop songs. Tony didn’t talk to you for a week after that, although you could see by the gleam in his eyes that he was slightly impressed by the feat.
Computers had always been your ‘thing’, and you could set up networks and track down problems in record time. When you worked with the electronics, your mind visualized the connections and routes in schematic form, enabling you to pinpoint the failing areas. When it came to analyzing data, you could do so just as quickly.
Steve led you to the elevator, and the ride up to the Avengers’ level was made in silence, then his hand in the small of your back guided to the dining table, where the rest of the team sat.
“Glad you could join us,” Tony said, grinning when you cut your eyes at him.
You sat down across from Loki and Thor, then helped your plate with food as it was passed to you. You offered them both a tired smile, which Thor returned with a wink. Loki nodded, and although he didn’t smile, his green eyes were lit with amusement. A warmth spread through your veins, making it hard to look away from him, but you finally managed.
If only he wasn’t such eye candy, you thought. Or maybe such a snack...a tall, tall, snack…snack-a-licious…
You smothered a giggle that almost escaped, but then strangled on the sip of water you’d just taken. While you coughed into your napkin, Bucky tried to help by patting your back, but his strength knocked you forward enough where you almost face-planted into your plate.
“Bucky!”
“Sorry.”
You composed yourself while keeping your attention on your food. You weren’t very hungry, even though you’d subsisted only on coffee, protein snacks and candy over the last few days. As you began to eat, it became difficult to keep your eyes open. Now that you were still and quiet, the lack of sleep caught up with you fast. The others watched as your head began to drop lower and lower, until your fork clattered onto the plate as you fell asleep while sitting upright.
“Come on, sleepyhead.” Steve scooped you up and carried you to your apartment, where he put you to bed.
— —
Later that night, Tony was still in the common room when you padded quietly on bare feet into the kitchen. You went to the fridge and stared at its contents for several minutes before taking out a yogurt cup.
He watched as you shuffled to a drawer for a spoon, and he started to ask if you needed help when you struggled to open the yogurt, but you did manage to get the lid off after a couple of minutes.
“Are you alright?” He asked as you consumed the yogurt in four large spoonfuls.
You didn’t respond, just dropped the spoon into the sink, and the empty cup into the garbage, and left. Once back in your apartment, you crawled into bed, pulled up the covers and went back to sleep.
— —
Several hours later, Loki stirred from a deep sleep when something woke him. He listened for any movement in his apartment, but all was quiet. Something wasn’t right, though, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
He started to get up, but then realized what had disturbed him: a warmth against his back, along with a bare arm across his waist. To say that he was stunned would be an understatement, since neither should be there.
Loki carefully grasped his bedfellow’s wrist and raised it enough to try to determine who had invaded his space, and he didn’t need three guesses when he recognized the intruder’s bracelet.
Pixel.
He couldn’t help but think of you by the nickname that Tony had burdened you with due to your computer skills. None of that was important, however. What was important was why you were in his bed, and how you had managed to avoid the spells that he cast each night that would alert him to any intruders. It was a habit that he kept, even though it was unlikely that he’d be attacked in his own suite, and he felt a bit uneasy that you hadn’t triggered any of them.
Loki carefully shifted until he faced you, and the movement was enough to turn you on your back. He braced up on one elbow while he looked into your face, and recognized the exhaustion it reflected. He knew that you’d been working hard on the surveillance videos; too hard, it seemed. He frowned at that, and decided to speak to Stark about letting you stay awake for days on end, as it wasn’t necessary since Jarvis could easily help run comparisons.
“Hey, Pixel.”
He brushed hair out of your face before shaking you gently, but you didn’t stir. He tried again, with no success: you were dead to the world. He considered taking you back to your own bed, but an urge for mischief kept him from doing so. He rather wanted to see what your reaction would be come morning. So, he adjusted position slightly so that your head was pillowed on his arm, then he put the other arm across you and pulled you closer.
— —
Early the next morning, well before dawn, you awoke slowly to find that something was very, very wrong.
Your sheets were softer than you recalled, you were curled against someone’s side, with your head on their shoulder, and this someone had their arms around you. Slowly, carefully, you sat up, and the shock when you recognized your bedfellow had you turning toward the edge of the bed.
Loki.
Before you could disengage fully from his embrace, he turned with you, and drew you even closer to his chest, where he held you firmly. You laid still for a couple of minutes, not wanting to disturb him, hoping to escape before he woke. Then you carefully tried moving his arm from across your waist so that you could slide from beneath it.
“What’s the fuss, pet?” Loki asked, sleepily.
“Why are you in my room?”
“Your room?” You felt his smile against your temple.
“My room! And my bed!”
“Are you certain about that?”
Your brow furrowed in confusion while you slowly looked around, then your mouth fell open in astonishment when you realized where you were. Nope, not your room, but his.
“How did I get in here??”
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” He asked, while burying his nose in your hair. “How you got in, and got past my security measures.”
“I don’t—wait, security measures? You mean booby traps?” You whispered, aghast.
He almost laughed aloud at that, and would have if your tone hadn’t been so horrified at the notion of triggering one of his spells.
“Don’t worry, Pixel, there isn’t anything that will cause lasting harm,” he chuckled. “So, first order of business: why did you come here?”
“I’m not...oh...cripes…” you rubbed your face with a groan.
“Yes?”
“I’m so sorry...I must have been sleepwalking.”
“Oh?”
“I haven’t done it in years, though...I guess being up for close to four days straight triggered it.”
“I see,” Loki mused over that for a moment. “But how did you get past my spells?”
“I don’t know, I really don’t,” you replied. “Are you sure they’re still intact...never mind, forget I asked.”
You’d backtracked on the question when his arm tightened slightly; you could imagine that his expression would remind you that he was a master sorcerer who was at least nine hundred years in age, and that he would know if his spells had failed.
“I should go,” you told him as you tried again to move his arm. “I’m very sorry for invading your space…”
“It’s early yet, why not stay?” He asked. “You’re delightfully warm.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I should.”
You were painfully aware that your gown’s thin straps left your arms and shoulders bare, and the hem only reached to your knees. There was no way that Loki hadn’t noticed it either, just as it hadn’t escaped your notice that his chest was bare. Thankfully, you could tell that he had on pajama bottoms. Thank God for small mercies.
“I was a perfect gentleman last night,” he commented. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do,” you replied, quickly. But do I trust myself?
Loki hummed softly before he ran his hand down your arm and changed your gown into one that covered you from your chin to your feet, and from your shoulders to your wrists. You were quite sure the thing would strangle you, since you were a restless sleeper.
“Geez, did you raid Steve’s grandmother’s closet??”
“Just trying to be helpful,” he replied with a chuckle, before he changed the gown again.
This time it was a green shirt with flowing sleeves, open neckline and a shorter hem which reached your knees. It wasn’t lost on you that he’d put you in his color.
“Better?” He asked.
“Yes, thank you,” you replied. “But I should go....”
He held you more firmly, and drew his legs up behind yours to trap you further. He was reluctant to let you go now that you were in his arms. He’d watched you for months now, slowly warming up since you treated him the same as anyone else, perhaps even better. He wasn’t sure how you’d managed to get under his skin, but he found himself wondering how it would feel to hold you, to kiss you...to have you.
When Loki refused to let you up, your heart began to race at the implications. Was he interested in you? Or just being mischievous because you had accidentally climbed into his bed? Either way, the proximity to his bare skin had you shaking; it wouldn’t take much for you to give in to his request.
“I’d like for you to stay,” he whispered, before he’d turned your face toward him.
When his lips found yours in a gentle kiss, your reticence flew out the window.
Comments I’ve gotten on past fics. I tend to be really hard on my own writing, so sometimes I need the reminder that there are people in the world who actually enjoy my work.
50. If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?
Angst because my sole purpose in life is to cause @lucywrites02 pain
Just a little drabble; it may pop up later in a fic, but for now, I had to get it on ‘paper’ so to speak.
You were in a particularly bad mood when Loki stormed into the Avengers’ common kitchen. He stopped when he realized that you were in front of the coffee machine with your back to him, and you were apparently lost in thought, since you didn’t move aside for him.
He waited impatiently for several minutes for you to acknowledge him before clearing his throat more loudly than necessary. You jumped at the sound, then turned to face him.
“Do you mind?” He asked, motioning toward the counter.
“Sure.”
You moved one step to your right while he went the same way, then you both ended up doing a weird little dance before he gave an annoyed huff. His hands gripped your shoulders so that he could lift you and set you out of his way.
His action surprised you, and your hand fell on a folded newspaper that Steve had left on the countertop.
“Unhand me!”
The newspaper smacked harmlessly against his ribs, making him stop in shock. His eyebrows lifted in astonishment even as you gaped at him, your mouth open.
Oh, shit….did I just….
“Did you just strike me?” Loki asked, incredulously, his voice interrupting your inner thoughts.
You closed your mouth, doing your best to imitate his frown.
“Apparently so.”
“You really don’t have any sense about you, do you?” He asked then, with just one eyebrow arching.
For months, you and Loki barely tolerated one another and gave each other a wide berth. You didn’t know what you could possibly have done to make him dislike you so much, but there came a point where you just stopped thinking about it. It hurt at first, since nothing you did or said ever made a difference; you learned that you just had to deal with it.
So, you now ignored him when you could, and kept interactions as brief as possible when you couldn’t.
This day had started off wrong and kept going like a bus skidding down an icy hill. Now here you were, being held off the floor by the spoiled space-prince, and enough was enough.
“Alright, that tears it! Put me down!”
With no sense of preservation, you hit him again, in the same spot. Loki let his breath out angrily before he shook you hard enough for you to see stars.
“You really want your backside paddled, don’t you?” He asked.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Kicking at him is a bad, bad, bad idea, you keep telling yourself.
“You don’t think so? Hit me again.” His voice was soft, dangerously so.
You glared at him for several seconds before lifting the newspaper in order to tap it lightly against his chest. Then you used the end of it to brush a non-existent something off his shirt.
“Got it.”
Loki set you onto your feet before slinging you across his shoulder, holding you there easily despite your attempts to get free. You struggled against him, knowing that it was no use: you weren’t going anywhere until he allowed you to.
Loki carried you to your suite, to your bedroom, then sat on the side of the bed after kicking the doors closed. Then you went face down across his lap. He gathered your wrists together and held them in the small of your back while ignoring your writhing.
“Loki!”
His palm came down onto your bottom with one sharp blow, causing you to shriek with outrage and pain. Even though he’d curbed his strength, it had hurt.
Then, to add insult to injury, he pushed you off him and onto the floor. You sat there for a moment before scrambling out of reach so that you could stand. Loki watched while you smoothed your hair down, his expression impassive.
His lips quirked ever so slightly when you rubbed your backside with a disgruntled expression. Then you took a deep breath before rushing at him, both hands extended to make contact with his shoulders.
He fell backwards, with you on top of him. Your hands went into his hair, anchoring his head still while he grasped your sides.
Loki’s eyebrows arched again as you stared down at him; when you pressed your lips against his, his grip on you tightened. Tentatively, you nibbled at his lower lip, watching as his eyes fluttered closed.
His hands slid down to your waist, then slid under the hem of your shirt before going further to cup your backside. You winced slightly, causing him to loosen his hold on you.
“Loki,” you whispered, lips grazing his jawline before finding a sensitive spot close to his ear.
“Yes?” He whispered back, unsteadily.
“I like this much better than fighting.”
Your fingers run lightly down his throat, bringing a slight shudder from him. After a couple of minutes of this, his hand found the back of your neck in order to hold you against him while he rolled you beneath him.
You kept a hand in his hair: it was softer than it looked, and was so thick and heavy. Loki tilted his head, moving toward your touch when you caressed his scalp; he practically purred under your touch.
The quiet moment was then interrupted by a hard knock on your outer door.
“It’s about time!” Thor shouted, loud enough to reach the bedroom.
“Norns,” Loki sighed.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his pained expression before you tugged gently on his hair. When he kissed you again, both your hands slid to his neck while you kissed him back.
“I agree,” he murmured against your lips before he nuzzled at your earlobe.
“What’s that?”
His breath in your ear made it hard to concentrate on the conversation.
(The gif isn’t exactly what I wanted, but it’s close enough. Please disregard the dirt on his face and shirt. This has no bearing on the story.)
— — —
Summary: Loki periodically has to return to Asgard, in Thor’s company, to give a ‘progress report’ to Odin. It’s inferred that he’s on probation while on Earth. After each visit, he comes back to the Tower angry at the circumstances, and at Odin. It takes some time for him to calm down, but after this particular visit, he lashes out at you, with devastating results.
— — —
“That sounds like a you problem.”
Loki’s last words to you replayed over and over in your head. You wiped tears as you stared out the window.
After his words lashed over you, he’d left and slammed the door so hard that the whole house shook. It was a wonder that the doorframe hadn’t broken into pieces. You were left staring at the door, stunned.
Once he stormed out, you waited to see if he’d return, but after an hour, with no call or text, you numbly packed a bag, got into your car and began to drive.
— — —
“That sounds like a you problem.”
Loki groaned and sat up in his bed at the reminder from the previous evening. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to say such a thing, but the words had erupted from his mouth, and now the damage was done. He’d stayed awake the whole night, staring at the ceiling, and wondered how he would ever make this right.
He’d been to Asgard with Thor in order for Odin to receive a status update, of sorts, which never went well, for him, anyway. Odin always found a way to remind him of his transgressions, and to needle him a bit. As a result, Loki was angry and defensive, and usually those closest to him suffered. Thor normally would ignore him, or otherwise manage to diffuse him before he took his anger out on you.
It usually worked, but not this time. He was positively fuming when he came to your house. You were your sweet, kind self, but he simply couldn’t let go of his anger toward Odin.
First, he demanded whiskey, and drank directly from the bottle, after ignoring the glass you’d offered. Then you shared your takeout meal, even though it wasn’t quite enough for the both of you.
After he’d eaten, you sat beside him, and reached for his hand.
“Do you want to talk about —“
“NO.”
“I can’t help you if you won't talk to me.”
“That sounds like a you problem.” With that, he stormed out of the house before you could reply.
The look on your face still haunted him, and the regret threatened to overwhelm him.
He groaned again, and ran his fingers roughly through his hair, and pulled out a few strands. He forced himself to shower and get dressed, since it was early enough where he could get to your house before you left for work. So, he had one of Stark’s people drive him there.
Once he let himself in with his key, he looked around briefly. He’d tried calling several times, with no answer. He didn't really expect one, given the way he’d acted, but he hoped to talk to you.
The house was quiet, so he called your name as he looked around. The food containers and whiskey bottle were still on the coffee table, which he thought was odd, because you usually cleaned up promptly.
He went to the bedroom, and noticed immediately that the bed hadn’t been slept in. There were a few pieces of clothing scattered across the coverlet, and the closet door was open.
The sense of foreboding went from bad to worse when he found that the garage was empty. He went back to the living room, and uneasily looked around again.
There was every indication that you had left after he’d stormed out. Your purse was gone, and there weren’t any breakfast dishes in the sink.
Then he saw the ring that you’d left behind. It was a token of his affection, although a Midgardian could interpret it as an engagement ring. Neither of you were to the point of talking about marriage, but you were as exclusive as you could get with a relationship of close to two years.
In a panic, he tried calling you again, and also sent several text messages. Finally, he returned to the Tower to talk to Stark.
READ THE REST HERE
— — —
The prompt came from a drabble by @theaudacitytowrite
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