Hii, i hope you're doing great!!!
Can you please do a david loki x reader?? (fluff or angst) Maybe focusing on his backstory (like his younger self) when he moved from foster homes and Juvenile detention center and how this one person helped him cope up with it, even though he was cranky about it, and he reluctantly caught feelings for them (quite stubborn about it) and then he saw them and then he saw them again years later (when he's already a detective) and maybe those feelings creep up again?
Thank youu :)
I love this idea so much. Thanks for the request!
My Old Friend - Detective Loki x Reader
Warnings: Extreme Violence, Someone Dies, Baby David Loki getting bullied.
Fluff and Angst
2.8k words
You weren't meant to be here, standing across from him in this room. Your eyes are locked with his, those same eyes that looked at him in very much the same way when you first met all those years ago back before he was Detective Loki, and was simply David.
1994
7th Grade
"Are you alright?" You crouch down before the quivering boy.
He's quite small for his age, awkward limbs and sunken eyes. Two minutes prior you had watched him get the shit kicked out of him by 3 much larger boys, and now he sits here on the floor next to the school toilets, arms around his knees, blood leaking steadily from his rapidly bruising nose. He doesn't respond to your question at first, still gathering himself from what just happened. After a few moments of silence he offers you a nod.
"I'm fine." The action of speaking causes a trickle of blood from his lips.
"You don't look fine," you point out, your voice filled with concern, "you're bleeding."
"Well aren't you clever." He uses the wall to pull himself to his feet, shooting you a hostile look which you ignore.
"Who were those guys?" you continue to question, despite how obvious it is that he wants you to go away, following after him as he limps off down the hall.
"I live with them," he relents.
"Oh are they your brothers?"
"No."
"Why did they attack you?" You're walking beside him now with a lot more spring in your step than he can muster up.
"That is none of your business. Who even are you?" he snaps, halting his limping to turn and face you.
"We are in the same class," you chirp, either oblivious to his hostility, or simply ignoring it on purpose, "You're David, right?"
"Yeah. That doesn't mean I know you. Stop following me around." He turns again and keeps walking, and once again you follow beside him.
"So why do you live in a house with people who aren't your family? Are you an exchange student or something?"
"If you ask me another question I'm going to punch you in the nose," he snarls.
"Sorry."
Over the next few months he feels like you are everywhere. You're next to him in every single class, you're always on the same table as him at lunch, and you walk home with him after school every day, because, as it turns out, your house is only a block or so from where he lives. He for one is indifferent to your presence, being more used to solitude, but having you around has it's perks. You aren't exactly popular at school, but bullies tend to leave him alone when you're with him. He's not sure why but it's a welcome change.
That afternoon the two of you are walking home. You've been rambling the entire time about a movie that your aunt took you to see in the cinema on the weekend.
"So the main character was this lady who really wanted to have a wedding and listen to ABBA or something," you explain to him, "and they all spoke funny because they lived in Australia, or maybe it was Austria, I'm not really sure."
David is listening to you talk with very little interest, more focused on the rock he's been kicking in front of him since you left the school.
"Have you seen any good movies lately?" you ask, tilting your head to face him.
"I don't really go to the movies," he replies disinterestedly.
"Does your family not rent out tapes or anything either?"
"We've got a copy of The Terminator and that's all the other boys ever want to watch." He kicks the rock on the wrong angle and it skitters off into the bushes on the side of the path. He blinks hard.
"Do you have both of them or just the first one?"
"There's a second one?" He looks over at you for the first time in a while. You look like you are about to go on a whole rant about how he didn't even know there was a second Terminator, and how that has to be some kind of a crime, but whatever you are about to say is cut off by a guy who you recognised as one of the people who had attacked David last week, jumping from the bushes on the side of the path and knocking him onto the ground.
David's head hits the pavement and he sees stars. Jackson, one of the older kids from his foster home, is on top of him. The way his arms are moving is leading David to believe that he is being punched repeatedly in the face, but he has gone numb and he can't feel it anyway.
For a moment he wonders what he must have done to piss of Jackson this time. Maybe he was listening to his music too loudly the night before, or maybe the he just felt like it. Out of all of his "brothers" Jackson was probably the scariest. He was the sort of person, David thought, who could just kill someone on a whim if he was in a bad mood, and he's starting to suspect that this is what is happening to him right now.
He closes his eyes and lets out a pathetic grunt, not even trying to save himself. This is it.
And then the punching stops.
He cracks his eyes open and for a second he sees an angel above him which as his head returns to reality morphs into you, wide eyed, holding a bloodstained rock, the very same one he had been kicking.
All he can think of is how you somehow look even more angelic than the angel he had seen just seconds prior.
He looks a mess. You drop the rock you had just used to bash Jackson in the back of the head, and push the larger boys unconscious body off him before gently pulling David into a sitting position. He pales when he sees Jackson on the floor, or maybe that's just from the blood loss. He garbles something incoherent through a mouthful of blood. After he spits it out onto the dirt he tries again.
"Oh my god." He looks down at Jackson then back at you, "is he dead?"
"I really hope not."
And that's how David got kicked out of his first foster home. It is also how he fell in love with you. Neither of you faced any jail time for the death of Jason, because the court ruled it as self defence, but that didn't stop the foster family from kicking him out.
He was placed into a boys home not too far from the old foster home. A very religious household. They enrol him in catholic school with the rest of their boys, and it is 4 years before you see him again.
1998
11th Grade
Much to the dismay of his foster parents, two sour faced Catholics who David seriously believed must be devil incarnates pretending to be religious humans to deflect suspicion, David has been expelled from St Josephs Catholic School. Teachers had caught him smoking in the bathrooms one too many times.
David had no idea if you still even lived in town until he gets off the school bus on Tuesday morning and sees you sitting on the front steps listening to something on your Walkman. He approaches you as quickly as he can without seeming too excited to see you.
You look up at him as he approaches not recognising him for a second, until his eyes twitch, and everything clicks into place.
"Oh my god, David!" You stand up, leaving your headphones discarded on the stairs and wrap him in a tight hug. Normally you probably wouldn't hug someone you were kind of friends with for a couple of months in middle school that you hadn't seen in four years, and normally David would not let anyone hug him at all, full stop, but you'd killed a person for him, so he's willing to let it slide.
After that moment the two of you were inseparable. He'd sneak over to your house most nights, and regardless of how much he tries to stamp it out, he is in love with you.
He climbs in through your bedroom window unannounced one Wednesday night while you are reading a comic book in bed. He looks like the ran the whole way here and flops down on the end of your bed with a grunt.
"You didn't call," you point out, setting your book down and pulling yourself over to where he is laying face first on the foot of your bed.
"I couldn't this time, sorry. They kicked me out of the house for the night," he mumbles, his voice muffled by the mattress pressed against his face.
"That's okay. I'm the only one home right now anyway, you can stay over." you reach out to play with the short hairs on the back of his neck. The two of you are familiar with each other like that now. He still pretends to be annoyed by it, but deep down he likes the affection, especially when it's coming from you.
"You don't have to let me stay." He rolls onto his side so he can talk properly. He's hung out at your house a lot, but he's never stayed the night before.
"Don't be silly, where else would you stay?" you get up out of bed, "do you want me to set you something up on the floor, or are you fine to just sleep in my bed with me?"
He hesitates for a second, "are you sure you don't care about me sleeping in your bed, you know, with you in it?"
"I don't mind if you don't mind, but the floor is always an option I guess." you rearrange the pillows on your bed so there will be one for him to use. You do have a double bed, so it won't be too uncomfortable physically, though perhaps a little mentally.
"Yeah okay. That works." David sits up and watches you get the bed prepared for two.
"Why'd you get kicked out?" you ask, laying down on your side of the bed and watching as he drags himself over to his pillow
"Got into a fight with one of the other guys." he rolls over to face you in the bed, trying really hard to not think about how close your face is to his.
"Ah okay." You know not to press him further about that kind of stuff, "do you want a hug?"
"No," he lies.
"I'm going to give you a hug." You shift towards him and pull him against your chest. He doesn't put up much resistance, "you deserve better than this." you gently run your fingers through his hair, coming down to trace the fresh star tattoo on his neck, a stick and poke someone gave him in the school bathrooms a few months back that earned him a lavish beating from his housefather. Despite himself, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and hugs you back.
For reasons he's struggling to name, letting you hug him makes him feel like a pervert. He is in love with you, regardless of how hard he tries to shove it down, and letting you hold him like this with zero knowledge of how he actually sees you feels like deceit in his eyes. He can't come clean now though. Not if it means you might stop holding him like this, like he matters.
Despite the fact that he fell in love with you that afternoon in 1994, it is only tonight that he fully comes to terms with it. You fall asleep in each others arms and he finds himself truly content for the first time in a while, overshadowed only slightly by the uncertainty of if you would see him differently if you knew just how much he needed you.
2013
Present Day
"Loki," the sergeant calls from the next room over, "there's a lady out here saying her house got broken into, can you go check it out?"
It's been 3 days since the Dover/Birch case closed, and the Detective is more than happy to be put on a slightly less pressing case. He walks out into the lobby and finds himself face to face with you.
Your eyes flash with recognition, and the second the sergeant is gone your guard drops.
"Long time no see," you quip, "I uh, like what you've done with your hair."
"So I hear your house has been broken into?" He covers the butterflies in his stomach with staunch professionalism. You look more or less the same as he remembers, though he hasn't seen you since you left for college all those years ago. He had hoped maybe the way he feels around you would have faded with time, but quite the contrary. Absence makes the heart grow fonder or so they say.
"Yeah, I was away over thanksgiving with my family and only just got back. The place was trashed and they took a whole bunch of my stuff." Your eyes flicker over him, and he tries to ignore it.
"I can come over now if that works for you."
"That works." you write your address on a bit of paper and give it to him.
You both drive to your house in separate cars, which gives Loki ample time to think everything over. You, the person he has been madly in love with since 7th grade when you killed someone for him, is back in his life after being gone for 25 years, and he's about to be in your house. He should really get his mind off you, and onto the case at hand, but he can't seem to tear his thoughts away from you. He never vocalised his feelings for you, but looking back on how you both acted with each other in high school he finds it hard to believe that things were strictly platonic between you. Things have changed though. It's been so long, for all he knows you could be married with kids now, and he's the only one stuck in the past unable to move on. Part of him selfishly wishes that you are just as lonely as he is.
He pulls into your driveway. You have a nice little house, but the evidence of a break-in is clear from the moment he gets out of his car. You've already parked just in front of him and have made your way over to your smashed living-room window.
"this is where they came in from," you begin, "I have some security camera footage but it's grainy, and they are wearing masks."
"It's a good start." he moves past you to examine the window before looking over at you, "can you show me the footage?"
You take him into your house and log into your computer, pulling up the security camera footage from the night of the break-in. The air is thick with unspoken tension as Loki stands behind you watching the footage.
"Pause it right there." he points at the screen and you pause it, "zoom in on the face of the guy near the camera." You oblige, zooming in on the pasty face of the person closest to the camera, who's mask has slipped to the side, "I know that kid," Loki sighs, "he's trouble. I'll have all your stuff back by tomorrow afternoon at the latest."
You nod, turning around to face him. The second you actually make eye contact with him he feels his resolve begin to crack. He seriously hopes he's not blushing right now.
He's totally blushing right now, and seeing him in that state causes heat to rise to your own cheeks. Neither of you really know what to say to each other now, locked in a stare.
"I'm going to kiss you," he states plainly, and you barely have time to squeak out a nervous "okay!" before his lips are on yours.
The kiss starts off gentle, but when you don't immediately pull away, he cups your jaw with his tattooed hands and deepens it, sucking on your lower lip. You respond with fervour, and when your lips part slightly for air, he slips his tongue into the warm wet cavity of your mouth, his tongue dancing against your own.
After a few minutes of desperate kissing filled with every pent up emotion from your childhoods, Loki breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.
"God, that was so unprofessional," he huffs, drawing a snort of laughter from you.
"Don't worry," you tease, "I wont tell. Although, we should see each other again. When you're not on the clock."
"I get off work at 5?" he suggests.
"I'll see you then."
Thanks for the request and thank you for reading!
My requests are always open and you can check out what other characters I write for here
dividers by @pixopix
