PSA: these writings ARE NOT MINE. This is a list of fanfiction I have read during october and November. All credit goes to the original and rightful writers.
a collection of a fifty+ part storyline aiming to give Loki the happy ending that he deserved.
— PAIRING: Loki x fem!reader
— WARNINGS: drabbles have their various warnings. everything from suggestive quips to heart wrenching angst, with a majority of ridiculously fluffy goodness.
— NOTES: i write everything out of order! what started as drabbles started connecting and became this. i do not own any rights to Loki or the MCU, nor receive any profit from these works. this is just writing for my own educational, nonprofit purposes!
this story is incomplete. i have a million drafts and requests in the works that will be filling in many of the gaps in this storyline as well as continuing it. thank you so very much for your support, comments and feedback truly, truly keep me going! happy reading!
it’s complicated
~~ shawarma
~~ nipnops
~~ is that—is that stubble??
~~ enemies to fake lovers
~~ don’t you dare
~~ coworkers
~~ loki just wants his snickers
~~ put on a smile, pork chop
~~ there was only one chair
~~ spilt coffee
~~ lunch break
~~ don’t touch me
~~ mind games
~~ softer sides
~~ people like you?
~~ that’s my boyfriend
~~ ...progress?
~~ let me bleed
~~ haircuts and interrogations
** more coming soon between these**
~~ what is this?
~~ a drunken confession (possible placeholder)
** more coming soon between these**
~~ i want you (au)
in a relationship
~~ first-ish date
~~ favourite hoodie
~~ celebrity crush
~~ loki’s library
~~ thor.
~~ sunflowers
~~ loki’s sense of humor
~~ thankful for you
~~ november first
~~ attempt number one
~~ evil nose
~~ i’m going to marry you
~~ the proposal—wait no, jk
~~ dance lessons
~~ ormstunga
~~ a proposal
married
~~ not-so-royal wedding
~~ the morning after
~~ i licked it, so it’s mine
~~ second time’s the charm
~~ true form
~~ nicknames and braids
~~ quarantine
~~ definition of perfection
~~ getting ready
~~ valentine’s day
~~ an office visit
~~ disgusting domesticity
~~ love is pain (au)
~~ nipples.
~~ home late
~~ gingerbread messes
~~ i miss you, you know.
~~ easy like a sunday morning
~~ jealous kisses
~~ i’m in pain. period.
~~ safety dance
~~ do you want to have a baby?
we’re expecting
~~ i’m pregnant...
~~ appreciation
~~ you’re not driving.
~~ elliot?
~~ loki’s sleepy :’)
~~ nursery painting, ‘nuff said
proud father of a dumbass kid
~~ unexpected
~~ elliot.
~~ dusted (au)
~~ baby fever
~~ first time in asgard
~~ baby’s first christmas
~~ ah-loo!
~~ kings don’t change diapers
~~ dentist trip
~~ tessi the tesseract
~~ syrupy slip-up
~~ foot massage
~~ true loves kiss...blegh.
~~ hide n seek
~~ the mini-asgardians
~~ you’re not dying.
~~ you lost your kid?
~~ i saw mommy kissing santa claus
~~ tired + horny parents
~~ disneyland
~~ little monster
~~ lonely
we’re expecting more
~~ don’t tell dad.
~~ the Question
~~ like real people do
~~ microwave baby
~~ simple-thee pains
~~ peppermint and tears
proud father of two dumbass kids
~~ frigg.
~~ mortality
~~ frigg’s favourite
~~ bappy hirthday, momma
~~ frigg made me do it
~~ bad timing
~~ pantless prince
~~ blue
~~ a good friend
~~ morgan potts-stark
~~ so there’s this girl.
~~ a study in hands
~~ frostbite prevention
greater expectations
~~ ew, Elliot, that’s gross
~~ ew, Elliot, that’s still gross
~~ the twins!! (au)
* * * * * * *
fuel the writer? :’)
you’re all incredible and every ounce of support you give is just more fuel to this writing fire, which means more content for you!!
You’ve changed all the diapers, fed them both, cleaned up after them, done your time.
Frigg is barely four and Loki already wants another.
“But a baby,” he pleads, striding along next to you, “both our children are growing older. I can’t carry Elliot anymore, Frigg…it’s just not the same, I want a baby.”
“You know that baby will just grow up again, right?”
“Yes.” Loki grins as you come to a halt in the laundry room, setting the hamper down with a huff.
“And what happens once that baby’s four?” You start sorting through the dirty clothes, pulling the remains of a chocolate bar out of a jeans pocket. “Oh, god, Elliot…chocolate melts…”
“Then we have another, of course.” Loki grabs another pair of jeans and starts checking the pockets as well. “Then that one grows up, and we have another, then that one grows, and we have another—”
“My uterus hurts just thinking about that.”
“But more babies, darling,” he sighs, tossing the pair of little jeans in the washer. “More little you and I’s, crawling around and—”
“And terrorising us,” you cut in, “wrecking this entire house and keeping us awake, keeping us from each other for months on end, then they grow up and we have to feed them and send them to school and raise them and we’ll never have a full night’s rest for the rest of our lives.”
You wait for Loki to sigh, realise how absurd his proposal is, but he just gives you a dreamy smile and throws another dirty sock in the washer.
“The more you speak,” he murmurs, leaning towards you, “the more I just want to impregnate you.”
Aha.
“Okay…so this is just your breeding kink talking?”
“I’ve told you, I don’t have a breeding kink,” he hums, kissing the tip of your nose and plucking the shirt out of your hands. “I just want to have an endless number of children with you, fill your belly with my seed time and time again, and raise children of our creation for years on end.”
“Right.” You jab an elbow into his side, dumping the rest of the clothes in the washer and hoisting the hamper back onto your hip. “Totally not a breeding kink.”
The next morning, Loki wakes you the way he does best.
You’re not complaining, you never could, but when he tries to convince you that “breakfast” is a perfectly viable excuse to be late to work, you shove him off the bed and all but hurl a pair of pants at him.
“Don’t get me pregnant,” you warn him as he laughs, pointing a finger in his face. “Don’t you dare, you have to keep saying that spell thing, okay? We are not in agreement about this ‘more babies’ issue, Loki, do not get me—”
“Shh…” he surges toward you, molding his lips to yours and chasing you back onto the pillows. “Don’t worry, you know I would never do that to you.”
Of course you know that.
“Just making sure,” you giggle, and you try to no avail to squirm out from under him.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun…” lips latching onto your neck, he growls playfully and rolls you on top of him, keeping you tight against him as you laugh and push him away.
With a tongue that, ah, skilled, you might’ve given in by the time he was done, but your bedroom door crashes open and your two lovely kids barge in, leaving you and Loki scrambling for the sheets.
“I didn’t do nothin’,” Frigg is yelling over and over, holding onto Elliot arm as he drags her behind him. “I didn’t do nothin’!!”
“Frigg froze the milk,” Elliot seethes, a little blue in the face. “I’m gonna be late for school if she doesn’t quit it—”
You kick Loki under the blanket. Your turn.
“Uhh…”
“Great parenting,” you groan, sitting up and keeping the sheet tight under your chin. “Frigg, unfreeze the milk, don’t do that to Elliot. Elliot, don’t drag your sister like that—”
“She won’t let go of me!” He shakes his arm to prove his point, and sure enough, Frigg refuses to let go and just giggles. “See? This is all her, I didn’t do this.”
“Elliot, she’s four,” Loki sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Just give her another cookie and tell her to read a book.”
“She can’t read yet, that doesn’t—”
“Shhhhh.” Loki yawns and flops back on his pillow, a cool hand stroking down your bare back. “It’ll work, trust me.”
A look of disbelief crosses his face, but Frigg yells “BOOK” and he trudges out of your room, slamming your door and dragging his little leech of a sister along behind him.
You roll on top of Loki before he can get another word out, pinning his arms by his head. “This is why we can’t have another kid. If you’d rather have another baby than spend our mornings like this, then fine, but really think about it.”
He closes his eyes, a stupid little smile on his stupid beautiful face, and runs his hands up and down your thighs. “I do like this,” he decides, “but…I still think we can manage both.”
With that, he flips you over and you let out a surprised yelp as he peppers your face with kisses.
“Your go-to method—mmph—” you try to push him away, but he just dives back for your lips with even more ferocity. “—can’t be t—Loki! God, calm down!”
“Sorry,” he laughs, chest heaving as he hovers over you. “What were you saying, my love?”
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, half-heartedly glaring up at him. “Your go-to method of parenting can’t be to just give them a cookie and shut them up.”
“And…why not?” He flicks his tongue over your pouting lips, much to your unamusement. “It seems to give us enough time to do this.”
“This,” you reach around him and smack his ass before shoving him off of you, “is not happening. We both have work.”
“But br—”
“DON’T SAY BREAKFAST.”
He follows you to the bathroom, trailing behind you like the little attention-starved puppy he is.
“I’m not saying that our lives would significantly improve if you were pregnant again,” he says, leaning against the counter and watching you start brushing your teeth, “but, consider if you were.”
“I’d ‘e puking err’where.”
“Not necessarily.”
“I’d ‘e ‘UGE.”
“No, you’d be pleasantly plump,” Loki chuckles, pinching your side and getting a fist to the groin in return. “Oof…hold on, you didn’t let me finish!”
Looking threatening with a mouthful of toothpaste is difficult, but you think you did alright.
“I’ve made it quite clear just how…appealing pregnancy looks on you, my love.”
“You kinky little shit.” You spit out your toothpaste and glare at him. “I’m not getting pregnant just ‘cause you’ve got a kink.”
“It’s not that!” He trails after you, following as you stalk to the closet and rifle around for some clothes. “I happen to enjoy raising children with you.”
“Oh, do you? I’m so glad! Put a shirt on.”
“Look,” Loki sighs, catching the shirt you threw at him and slipping it on. “Our children are my entire life. You know this. They’ve consumed me and I love it.”
“I know you love them.” You wrestle on your pants, hopping around until they’re pulled up to your waist properly. “And I love you, Loki, and I’d love to just pop out babies for us, but let’s be reasonable. We can’t…we can’t do that.”
“Did you know that I think of our children as living proof of your love?” Loki’s gaze drops to his fidgeting hands.
You pause, glancing at your husband. He’s gone silent, waiting for your response and probably wishing he hadn’t “admitted” to having emotions.
“You’re an idiot,” you sigh, shaking your head and walking over to him, laying your palms on each side of his face. “You really still need proof, Loki?”
His half-smile is sheepish, almost guilty. “I…well, sometimes I get scared.”
You thought there might be more to this.
“Talk to me, Loki.”
“I don’t—” he groans and rubs his eyes. “It’s complicated?”
“Hey.” Tugging him towards you, you softly press your lips to his, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. “We’re masters of complicated, remember?”
“Mmm.”
“Please talk to me.”
“Impossible when you kiss me like that,” he mumbles, eyes closed and forehead resting on yours.
“You’re trying to distract me and it’s never worked, snowflake.”
“Fine.” He breaks away and takes your hands in his, eyes downcast. “I’m a very…ah, insecure person.”
“Right.”
“And the fact that you were willing to have two children with me,” he presses your entwined hands to his chest, “not just one, but two…I just can’t fathom that it’s my true reality.”
You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him into a tight hug. “Keep going?”
“I don’t understand how you could claim to love me as much as you do,” he continues quietly, resting his head on yours as his arms wind around you. “I gave you two children that turn blue. Two monsters, really.”
“No,” you cut in, lightly slapping his back. “You were raised to hate yourself, Loki, to hate the species that was a true part of you. Don’t bring that into our family.”
“Sorry,” he whispers. “That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t think of them that way, but from a midgardian perspective, it’s…the truth.” He shakes his head at your confused face, drawing you closer into him. “Look, the point I’m trying to make is just that you shouldn’t love us, but you do, and the fact that you wanted to have a child with me felt, um, good.”
“Validating?”
“Very.” He presses his lips to your temple, closing his eyes tightly. “And the fact that you love our little blue babies just as much as I do feels even better.”
“So you want more kids? To capitalise on that validation of my love for you?”
“Yes…” he hugs you closer, burying his face in your neck to muffle his voice. “And I might have a little bit of a kink.”
You can’t help but laugh, running a hand through his hair as you hold him. “Okay, the kink I understand. But have I given you a reason to doubt my love for you?”
“No, no, that’s not what I mean!”
“Please tell me if I have,” you murmur. “I’m so sorry.”
“You haven’t,” he promises, cradling your face in his hands. “I’m just an insecure, paranoid, kinky little shit.”
You try for a cracked smile. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” He kisses you, fingers smoothing over your jaw. “There’s no part of this that puts you at fault, my love. I house the problems for this family.”
“I love you,” you swear, kissing him again. “I really, really do. That’s why I’ve got two incredible, perfect blue kids with you, okay? Because I love you, Loki.”
He opens his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by a loud crash from the kitchen.
“Damn. This was a nice little moment, wasn’t it?”
“Quick,” you whisper, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and yanking him towards you. “Kiss me with your tongue, hurry, before they find us.”
“O-okay.”
He obliges much too happily, curving your body into his with hands splayed over your back and neck as yours tangle in his hair.
Knock knock knock.
“MOMMY, ELLI ATE ALL THE CEREAL—”
Loki moves to break the kiss so you can answer, but you shake your head and suck his tongue back into your mouth.
“Mommy?”
Just a moment longer…
“Mommy, are you ‘n daddy kissin’ again?”
Loki pulls away, a grin back on his swollen lips. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, okay.”
You bite down on Loki’s shoulder to keep from laughing, holding onto him tight.
“…but the cereal’s gone.”
“There’s a new box on the middle shelf,” you call through the door, trying not to laugh when Loki starts nipping at the curve of your neck again. “Have Elliot get it down for you, okay, sweetie?”
“‘Kay, thanks, mommy.”
“My pleasure, Frigg.” Your hands slip back into Loki’s hair, tugging gently and preparing to get back to making out as soon as she leaves…
“Have fun kissin’ daddy.”
“Oh, I will,” you laugh, gazing into Loki’s eyes and brushing his hair out of his face as he quirks an eyebrow.
“…can I haffa kiss? M’kinda lonely ‘n Elli’s gonna leave…”
“Frigg,” Loki calls out to her, spinning you around to press your back against the wall and clapping a hand over your mouth. “Give us two more minutes and we’ll give you a million kisses.”
“Even at work?”
“Of course,” you laugh, pushing his hand away. “We’ll be right out, go have your cereal!”
Loki pauses for half a second to listen for the little footsteps leaving the room before pouncing on you again, dragging a trail of hot kisses down the column of your throat as your head falls back with a sigh.
“We’ve gotta stop,” you groan, raking your fingers through his hair. “Elliot has to get to school, Frigg needs a kiss—”
“MOM??”
“I still want another kid.” Loki’s lips leave your chest with a pop and he grins. “I’ll take the interruptions, only makes it that much better when we actually find time to ravish each other.”
“MOM, THERE’S NO MORE CEREAL—”
“If they say the word cereal one more time, I’m going to scream.”
“You know, this wouldn’t have happened if we had another kid.” Loki sets your pouting, deprived self back upright with a sigh, reaching down and buttoning your pants for you.
The pout continues—you haven’t gotten to kiss him like that in a while.
“I think it would only get worse if we had more…”
“Anyways,” Loki cuts you off, a finger to your lips, “the bed is right over there, I conveniently already have no pants on—”
“No.”
“I was thinking we should go for twins, actually,” he continues, that shit-eating grin plastered on his perfect face. “Make it an even four children, then if we don’t get twins this time, we keep at it until we get a pair—”
“Absolutely not.”
He heaves a dramatic sigh and wrestles your shirt over your head, holding it for you to slip your arms in. “I’ll respect your wishes, I suppose…”
“Look at me, Loki,” you laugh, lifting your arms when he starts tucking your shirt into the band of your pants.
He glances up when he finishes, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and pulling you in for a quick smooch. “Yes?”
“First of all, you just reversed-stripped me, which is very out of character for your horny self, but very sweet. Second…” you hold out a pair of pants to him with the sweetest grin you can manage. “Pants.”
“No.”
You throw the pants in his face. “Okay, this!! Is why we can’t have more kids!”
“Why, because I prefer to be ready for baby-making at any given time??”
“No!” You jab a finger into his chest, snagging a quick kiss that’s the perfect mix of annoyed and enamoured. “Because YOU are my third child, and you are exhausting and more work than Elliot and Frigg combined and you’re making me late to work again—”
He opens his mouth to defend himself and you shut it by sealing it with your own.
“Don’t. say. breakfast.”
“But—”
“No.”
“Hmph.” He crosses his arms with a huff, just sitting there and letting you squish your lips up against his.
A sorry excuse for a kiss, but neither of you are complaining.
Another yell for mom brings you crashing back into reality and you push yourself away, sighing happily and patting Loki’s pouting cheek. “Pants,” you remind him, pointing. “See you on the battlefield. In pants. Please.”
“Hypothetical question, darling,” Loki calls after you, holding up a finger when you reach the closet door. “If I don’t put on pants, will I get a spanking?”
Someone forgot to close the blinds before falling asleep last night.
Well…kind of understandable. Maybe you’ll let it slide considering this is the first time you’ve ever woken up to find that “someone” lying naked right next to you, hogging the sheets to keep himself somewhat decent.
Shoving your head under the pillow isn’t doing the trick and sunlight is still pouring into the room, so you groggily sit up with a yawn—oh, ouch.
Are those muscles supposed to be sore?
It’s a good sore, you think, swinging your legs off the bed and curling your toes into the carpet under the bed as you search for some clothes. Behind you, Loki is still snoring softly, an arm already laid across your side of the bed awaiting your return.
Your side of the bed…woah.
In the frenzy of passion and whatever the hell else had taken you last night, your shirt ended up in the far corner of the room, so you reach for the nearest piece of discarded clothing: oh, perfect. Loki’s shirt.
You can’t help but bite your lip with a grin and spare a glance back at the god behind you. Should you wear it? To do so seems so… childish? Stereotypical? Cliché? But the shirt, a simple button up with the sleeves still rolled up to the elbows from Loki’s completely unnecessary but completely successful attempt at seducing you, just seems like the perfect thing to cover your bare body.
Maybe he’ll like waking up to the sight.
You track down some new underwear and slip the shirt over that without a second thought, bare feet padding across the room to close to blinds. Each step sends a new jolt of pleasant aches through your legs, not enough to hurt, but just enough to serve as a perfect reminder of the lines you and Loki had crossed the night before.
Though the sunlight is illuminating the room in an incredible golden warmth, you’re not quite ready for that at this too early hour, and Loki seems to be squinting in his sleep, so you close the blinds—just for a little while longer. You peek out the window while you’re there; it’s absolutely beautiful outside. Spring is on its way now that the rains have paused and the blankets of snow have melted away, leaving behind a stunning expanse of vivid green grass, the morning dew on each blade sparkling in the glaring sun—
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a more heavenly sight.”
You whirl around with a start at the gravelly sound of Loki’s voice, and sure enough, he’s woken up, propping himself up on his elbows as he stares at you with an easy half smile on his face.
“I—uh, sorry,” you whisper though there’s no reason to stay quiet. “I thought you were still—sorry, um, g’morning, Loki.”
Why do you feel so exposed? He’s staring at you and apparently doesn’t plan on stopping, and you don’t really know what to do anymore. You feel suddenly stupid for wearing his shirt; yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have done that after all, so you quickly shrug the shirt from your shoulders.
“No, no, no,” Loki sits up more fully, reaching out a hand to you. “Keep that on. Please.”
He’s sitting up against the headboard now and well, now you are staring. He still is completely unclothed, his stomach bare and too tempting, and he has the thin sheet covering his groin just barely—he moves to stand up and you gulp, for some reason not ready to see him completely exposed again.
You’re pretty sure you just need to sit down before that happens again.
“My shirt suits you, darling,” he grins and stands up, the sheet dropping away. You instinctively shoot your gaze to the ceiling and hold up a hand to block yourself from seeing anything. Stepping closer to you, Loki laughs deep in his throat and takes your outstretched hand, bringing it to his lips. “What do you think you’re doing? Aren’t we past that now?”
“S-sorry,” you mumble and force your gaze back to his face, trying not to melt under his adoring smile and how he runs his thumb along your hand. Words don’t seem to be working properly for you right now, unlike Loki’s strange ability to have himself completely composed and eloquent even having just woken up from such an extensive night.
It’s…kind of intimidating, if you’re being honest.
“So I’m nailing this whole ‘morning after’ thing, aren’t I?” You groan sarcastically and pull your hand from his grip, trudging back to the bed to flop down on it and pull a pillow over your face. “What do you even say to someone after…after that? ‘Thanks?’ ‘You were great?’"
Loki is just a little too perfect. You’ve known that the entire time you’ve been together, ever since you first kissed him. You’ve always known that you are, for lack of a better word, unworthy of his affection. So then why on earth had he just let you, some awkward little Midgardian, bed him? And why is he pretending to have enjoyed it?
You can hear him chuckling softly and feel the bed dip beside you as he resumes his place at your side, locking an arm tightly around your waist. Light floods your eyes once again when he pulls the pillow off you, pressing his lips to your cheek. “Thanks,” he whispers and you can feel him grinning. “You were great.”
“Shut up, Loki.” You keep your face squished into the mattress.
“What has my lover so troubled?” He trails his lips down the side of your neck, slipping his shirt from your shoulder to attend to the skin there, too. “You’ve bedded a god, darling. I don’t mean to sound self-righteous…” he pauses and moves back to kiss the spot on your neck he had discovered last night, the one that had made you practically melt in his arms, “…but you should feel exceptionally proud of yourself.”
“I should be proud of myself for getting in your pants?”
Loki laughs and runs his tongue over the gentle bite he just left on the curve of your neck. “That’s one way of putting it.”
You mull it over for a moment, your stomach twisting into knots at the careful attention Loki’s paying to your neck, then finally turn your head to look at him. “So you weren’t just faking it all night?”
His jaw drops with a shocked little laugh and he puts a hand to the side of your face, running his thumb along your cheek. “I would have thought this spoke for itself,” he gestures downwards with a grin and you bury your face in the mattress again.
“Come on, I’m being serious!”
“As am I!” He barrels into you then, pushing you onto your back and hovering over you in one fluid motion—you keep your eyes squeezed shut though, still not able to look him in the eye. “Why in all the nine realms would I have had to fake anything under your devilish touch?”
You open your eyes to glare at him and give him a good poke in the stomach. “God of lies.”
“And yet you never fail to bring out the truth in me.”
“Okay, Shakespeare, take it easy.”
Loki just grins and leans down to place a soft kiss on your pouting lips, and within seconds you can’t stop the blissful sigh that escapes your throat.
“What is it going to take for me to convince you?” He murmurs when he pulls away, adoring eyes searching your face, then he dips back down to steal another kiss. “I’m prepared to spend the entire day in bed until you believe me.”
Your arms wind themselves around his neck before you have a chance to stop them, holding him closer and keeping him against you, and you feel his lips curling into a proud smirk on your own. You kiss him until he darts his tongue out to try and begin round two, then plant your hands on his shoulders and shove him off of you. “A tempting offer, but I’m hungry. How about breakfast and we never talk about this again?”
He’s still scowling about being ripped from your lips, but his eyes darken when you mention breakfast and he starts actually crawling towards you, eyes narrowed and stalking you. “Breakfast, yes…”
You gulp.
“Consider me starved.” His fingers wrap around your ankle and he lifts your leg to rest over his shoulder, starting to plant heated kisses down the inside of your leg as you scramble breathlessly back against the headboard.
“L-Loki, I’m…I’m serious—”
“Shh. Just lay back and let me distract you for a moment.”
And does he ever. This time it’s all about you, and you can tell he’s trying to prove himself to you, convince you of his feelings, a sentiment you do greatly appreciate through the haze of pleasure he’s trapped you under.
“Have I convinced you yet?” He asks when you finally rip the pillow off your face that you had grabbed and bit down on when he pushed you over the edge, desperately trying to muffle your cries—but also partially to hide your face from the god between your knees.
“I’m—fuck—I’m still hungry for actual food,” you pant and throw the pillow at him, which he only swats out of the air with a laugh before it can hit his infuriatingly perfect face.
“Oh, fine.” He climbs off the bed and tugs on a pair of black boxers, walking to your side of the bed and holding out a hand to help you up. “To be continued.”
Thank god he gave you his hand, cause your still trembling legs nearly give out when you stand up and you fall against his side as your head spins. “Shit,” you groan and he laughs, steadying you with a hand on your waist. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“Then I will ensure you die happy,” he promises with a chuckle and takes your hand, leading you down the hallway into the kitchen as you hurry to keep up.
Moments later you’re leaning against the kitchen counter staring at Loki over the rim of a bowl of cereal, his shirt on your body fluttering open in the gentle breeze coming from the window Loki had opened.
He is positively glowing, leaning on the sink across the tiny kitchen from you, blowing gently on the steaming cup of tea in his hands. You’ve never seen him looking so alive, so youthful and content as he does now, just drinking his tea in his underwear with a little bit of sleep left in his eyes, his lips a touch redder and plumper than usual—thanks to your relentless kisses, you proudly remind yourself.
And his hair…you smile into your bowl so he doesn’t see you almost laugh. For what you think is the first time since you’ve been together, it’s not perfect and silky and flowing majestically in the wind like some hair commercial. It’s still fucking gorgeous, of course, but right now it’s tousled, tangled, and curly, curlier than you’ve ever seen it.
It’s easily the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
There’s this one curl of hair that’s looped in on itself and is resting over his left temple, sticking out from his head and making you just want to run your hands through his hair again, smooth that little curl out—
“You’re staring, darling.”
You can’t help but give a sheepish laugh at being caught and point at his head. “Sex hair.”
He glances upwards as if trying to see it and laughs, running a hand through his hair—aw, there goes the little out of place curl. “I can only imagine how much of a mess I look right now.”
“Nuh uh, you’ve never looked better,” you assure him, finishing your cereal and walking over to put the empty bowl in the sink. Once you’re within his reach, Loki grabs you with an arm around your waist and pulls you into a one-armed hug against his chest, immediately attacking your neck with a million little kisses.
“Perhaps a shower, then?” He purrs as you double over laughing at the mercy of his lips, trying halfheartedly to squirm out of his grip. “Only to clean ourselves, of course. Just to wash my ‘sex hair,’ we won’t do anything else.”
“That’s believable,” you huff and push yourself out of his arms, turning around to stare at him a little longer. He’s much too smugly sipping his tea, waiting for you to do something, so you do, without really thinking: you reach up and take his face in both hands, lightly squishing his cheeks together into an adorable little pucker—his brow furrows in confusion as he stares down at you.
“You’re the cutest thing alive,” you giggle and jump up on tiptoe to land a quick peck on his pursed lips.
“No—I…what?”
Aw, he’s turning red. “I am not cute. Of all the adjectives you could have picked, you went with cute—ohh, oh.”
You just dragged your hands down his torso, letting your fingertips follow the bumps and ridges of his muscles to play with the waistband of his shorts, and his voice falters as he melts under your touch. “You were saying?”
He narrows his eyes at you, breathing a little heavier. “I was saying we need to go shower, right now.”
Biting back a grin, you glance down at your hands and notice a little mark on his right hipbone near your hand, just in that little dip of the v of muscles pointing down. A tiny bruise, it looks like, reddish purple and standing out boldly against the smooth planes of his skin—put there by you.
You poke the hickey without thinking, looking up at Loki with a bewildered laugh. “I did that.”
He raises an eyebrow and nods, taking your hand in his. “Yes, you did…you sound surprised.”
“I am surprised,” you tell him honestly, letting him lead you towards the bathroom. “I’m surprised we did that.”
“It was bound to happen, don’t you think?”
“Mmhm. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m surprised, but definitely not complaining.”
Loki shuts the door behind you and you find your back against it, one of his arms on either side of your head. Trapped beneath him, you grin up at him and reach around to slap his ass just to mess with him. “Not complaining at all.”
He laughs and runs a hand up your thigh, kissing you hard and pressing your back into the door. “I’d like to keep surprising you, if you’ll allow me,” he murmurs against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and starting to walk you backwards towards the little shower—wait a minute. Your little apartment’s shower barely fits you.
“Loki, wait, wait, wait, I’ve only ever heard horror stories about shower sex.” You lightly push him away and gesture at the shower. “Um, logistically speaking…this might not be the best idea?”
He hums in acknowledgement but surges back forward to meet your lips, a hand coming up to grip your jaw and kiss you harder. “Mm, I’m willing to risk it. I know we can make it work.”
You sigh and shrug Loki’s button up off your shoulders, dropping it to the floor and stepping over it as Loki’s eyes light up. “Fine.” You hold out your hand to him. “But if I slip and hit my head and die, I’m gonna kill you.”
hiiii uhhhh can I request one where both loki and reader are, well, “frustrated”, if you know what I mean, but reader’s got a lot of work to finish up and she’s trying her best to focus. But loki’s trying everything to get her attention so naturally she gives in and they start makin out on, like, the damn desk. sorry if this is weird ajsksjdjd I love you and your writing btw<3
omL this ain’t weird at all i am in love with this request !!!
You want to go home, drag Loki into a too-long hot shower, maybe (definitely) ride him senseless, fall asleep in his arms, and forget about this entire awful, nightmare of a day.
Sounds heavenly…
But you’ve still got a good two hours to go before you can clock out. You owe it to Tony to stay your full shift, he already lets you dictate your own hours and was the one who gave you this job, so you owe him one solid.
With that in mind, you open your tired eyes again and go back to staring at the laptop screen. Letters have gone fuzzy from staring at this old script for so long—it’s something alien, clearly not from earth or anywhere else you know of, much like most items that cross your desk. One of the “perks” of being good at your job, right?
Look, Tony, tell your government people that if you don’t recognise this strange language by now, it won’t help to be forced to stare at it for days on end.
You’ve lost focus again in seconds, mind drifting off to what Loki might be doing right about now. Probably something active, dangerous, fun, surrounded by people instead of alone in an office…
“I WILL NOT HESITATE TO DISMEMBER YOU, BROTHER OF MINE OR NOT—”
The door to your little office crashes open. Aha—there’s Loki.
He’s dripping sweat and raging, screaming at his brother who’s just laughing and following him down the hall.
“Come now, brother, it was all in good fun—”
Loki slams the door in Thor’s face.
“Beating your brother while he’s distracted and vulnerable,” he seethes, turning to glare at you, chest heaving, “is not good fun.”
You just raise a tired eyebrow, still confused but glad to see him nonetheless, and you wave a hand at the chairs in front of your desk. “What’s your deal?”
“My brother is a buffoon made of muscle,” he says simply, flopping into a chair and wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead. “And I missed your much more mature and bearable company.”
“Funny.” You go back to your work with a sigh—there’s no time for missing people with all you have left to do. “I was just thinking about you, too.”
“And what kind of…thoughts might those have been, hm?”
Sure…he missed your company…
“Nothing too exciting,” you sigh again, not bothering to look up at the smirk you know is there. “Just what we’re going to do when we get home.”
His eyes light up and you laugh when he leans forward. “Tell me, darling, what do you want to do when we get home?”
“…you.”
The god sits back in his chair with a smug grin, lifting his legs to cross his ankles on top of your desk. “I like where this is going.”
With a groan you start pushing his feet off your desk while Loki laughs, watching you struggle for a moment before twitching a foot to knock over a cup full of pens and pencils. The pens spill across your desk and roll onto the floor.
“Loki! What the hell?!”
“Whoops,” he purrs, pulling himself to his feet and walking around to your side of the desk. “How clumsy of me.”
He kneels next to your chair and starts picking up the spilled pens as you shake your head and return to your work. Your focus stays on the task at hand until—“LOKI!!”
He’s nipped at your leg with his teeth, a cool hand wrapped around your calf as icy lips trail up towards your knee. At your exclamation he holds your leg tighter and grins up at you, the glint in his eye in every way concerning.
“I’m in dire need of a distraction, dearest, or I might go back to the training room and hurt someone,” he sighs, making himself comfortable on the floor with his back leaning against your desk. “Would you happen to have any ideas?”
“G-go annoy someone else?” His hand slowly tracing up and down your leg is colder than usual, bringing a chill across your skin as you shudder under his touch.
“Mm, no, I don’t like that suggestion,” he hums and suddenly his lips are just above your knee, only for a split second to make you drop your pencil with a start.
“Loki! I’m at work!”
He clearly couldn’t care less.
Still rubbing your leg with a firm grip, he smiles up at you from his spot on the floor like some attention-hungry cat. “My darling, you can’t possibly tell me you’ve never wanted this.”
Throwing your pencil down with a groan, you drop your head to your hands. Probably easier to give him the attention he wants and just get him out of here, right?
“Wanted what, exactly?”
He’s back to licking your leg, lifting your knee to rest over his shoulder as he rubs you down. “To be thoroughly taken in a place of work. Would certainly liven up this dreary place…”
“Oh yeah,” you respond sarcastically, “a life goal, how’d you know? Definitely something to check off the bucket list.”
“I find your sarcasm tantalising,” he purrs and walks two fingers up your thigh, flicking the hem of your dress out of the way. “It only makes me want to bend you over this desk and make you scream—”
“Oh my god, why are you so horny all the time??”
He shrugs, that awful smirk plastered on his face peering up at you. “It’s your own fault, you know. If you weren’t so temptingly irresistible, maybe I could better…how do you say it? Keep it in my pants?”
“I don’t think you’ve ever once kept it in your pants, sunshine.”
He kisses your leg again, cold fingers wound around your ankle. “Your fault, my dear.”
“It is not my fault that you have approximately a thimble’s-worth of self control—”
The phone rings, interrupting your tangent, and your heart drops—sometimes opportunities just fall right into Loki’s lap, only encouraging him to be more…you know, him.
Your terrified gaze shoots to Loki, whose grin only widens and you swear you can see his eyes darken.
“Loki, don’t you dare—”
“Answer it,” he hums, running a hand up the side of your thigh. “It’s your job, darling, you have to take this call.”
You lean down and shove a threatening finger right in his face. “Hands where I can see them.”
He slowly raises his hands in surrender, wiggling his fingers and quirking an eyebrow. The phone keeps ringing and you glare at Loki, trying to shoot him the best warning look you can manage, keeping your eye on him as you straighten up and pick up the phone.
“Stark Communications Lab, how can I help you-hooO—howcanIhelpyou??”
Loki’s still on the floor by your chair, his hands in the air so you can see them, but he’s pulled himself to his knees and has the nerve to take the hem of your dress between his teeth, dragging it up your thigh.
You jerk away and cross your legs, shooting him a deathly glare.
It’s an officer from an international agency in Brazil on the other line, calling in a sighting of the same type of runes you’ve been staring at for hours on some train station wall. You’ve been waiting for a break like this, but as the guy blabbers on about coming to see it, all you can focus on is clamping your mouth down hard on your hand to keep from squealing out loud.
Let’s just say that Loki’s still not using his hands.
You stammer out responses to the officer on the other line, cutting yourself off every few seconds to violently cough to cover up any mewling sounds that might escape your lips, and Loki grins every time. He hasn’t quite touched you yet, but you’re pretty sure that’s worse.
“Yeah, I’ll-I’ll see if I can come—heh, excuse me,” you cough and jam your foot into his side when he laughs and whispers “you can, believe me,” followed by a long lick up way too high on your thigh.
Shaking your head furiously at him, you mouth “I’ll kill you” to him and kick him pointlessly in the ribs.
He just waves his hands again to show that hey, I’m following the rules, and shuffles forward on his knees to wrestle himself between your tightly squeezing together legs. You clap a hand over your mouth when he pries your knees apart with an elbow, pointedly watching you with his hands in the air.
“Loki, I swear to god, you’re dead,” you hiss at him, covering the microphone of the phone for a second.
The god just hums happily and continues planting burning kisses up the inside of your thighs. He nudges one of your legs over his shoulder, then the other, wrapping his arms around your squirming thighs and keeping his hands wide open for you to see.
“Email me the photos fuu—f-first thing in the morning!” Your voice climbs up a whole octave by the end of your sentence, coming out in little more than a squeak when Loki presses a strangely hot breath of a kiss just above your core. Your thighs clamp tight around his neck as you try to keep speaking in complete sentences, and Loki just laughs.
“Sorry, am I distracting you?” He laughs with a wide grin, his head firmly stuck between your thighs, and you just squeeze his ears tighter in response.
You’re slumped down in your office chair by now, Loki’s arms around your thighs, a hand clapped over your eyes as you struggle to finish this conversation. “That’s fine. Send me what you have, I’ll—st-ahH—can I call you back?”
Thank god the officer agrees, cause you’ve got a lovely sheen of sweat across your forehead, your dress is tangled up somewhere around your waist, and Loki’s getting a little too adventurous with the waistband of your underwear.
“Thank you, goodbye.” You hang up and slam the phone down on the desk, reaching down to grab a fistful of Loki’s shirt and yanking him up with you. “Loki, you little shit.”
He looks much too proud of himself as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes ma’am?”
Your hand curls tighter in his shirt and he leans forward, scrambling to his feet as you glare at him—you kind of want to smack that smug little smirk off his annoying little face.
Or maybe just make the hell out with him.
“Wake up, darling,” he taunts when he sees your distracted gaze. “I must say, I quite enjoy making you speechless, but—mmm.”
You cut off his stupid voice by shoving your tongue into his stupid mouth, fisting your hands in his stupid hair and you notice his stupid hands stay in the air—well, you said to keep them there!
“Touch me,” you gasp, pushing Loki against your desk and he grins into your lips, letting you bend him backward until he falls onto his back on the desktop. “For fucks sake, Loki, use your fucking hands.”
“As you wish, my love.” His hands go straight to stroking up your thighs as you shove your papers off the desk and climb on top of him, straddling his hips and leaning down to keep your lips firmly pressed to his.
“I thought—mmph—” he’s cut off by a sudden intrusion of your tongue licking against his, burning hot and oh-so-welcome in his mouth. “Good gods, I thought I’d have you bent over this desk, not myself.”
“Yeah, well, you pissed me off,” you grumble and suck his bottom lip into your mouth, rocking your hips to rip a groan from his throat.
Loki smiles, eyes darkening as he gazes up at you. “But I kept my hands where you could see them, just as you requested.”
“And what a good fucking boy you are, huh?”
“I would say so.” He chuckles darkly and catches your busy face in one hand, gripping your jaw and pulling you harshly from his lips. “I should be rewarded, don’t you think?”
You narrow your eyes as best you can and try to look as threatening as possible—kind of difficult when he’s holding your jaw so tightly your lips are puckering between his fingers. “You’re getting punished, if you’re getting anything at all,” you seeth and yank your head from his grip.
“Then I’ll sit quietly and take it,” he hums, tense muscles going slack underneath you, much to your surprise. “Like a good boy.”
How about Elliot asking for a sibling? And Loki is all cocky "What do you think dear?" Obviously sexual innuendos throughout. 😂😂
sorryyyyyy i left again. have some family fluff. i missed dad!loki and elliot our son gahhhh and this is kind of big in the progression of our lil family ;))
“I’m lonely…” Elliot sighs, throwing his arms around your knees and dropping his head against the back of your legs. “I’m lonely, mom. When’s dad gonna be home?”
“Any minute now, hopefully. Do you want to invite a friend over tomorrow?” You reach behind you and lightly tap the top of his head with your oven mitt.
He groans and hits his head against your legs. “Nooo…Dad’s my only friend.”
“What?! What about me?”
“Nah. You’re my mom.” Elliot sighs again, dramatic and just like his goddamn father when he’s craving attention. “That’s like…better than a friend.”
Good save, buster.
Turning off the fire under the bubbling pot on the stove, you turn around and kneel down to eye level with the little boy. “You have other friends, kiddo,” you assure him with a smile. “What about James? And Oliver? Oh, and Morgan?”
“Ew, no.” He blanches and shakes his head. “Morgan’s not my friend, she has cooties.”
“That’s funny. Your mother had cooties, too.”
“DADDY!!”
Elliot jumps up and runs over to where Loki is leaning in the doorway with a soft smile on his face—and with what appears to be the remains of a birds nest in his mess of hair.
“What happened to you?” You laugh and follow Elliot over to him, slinging an arm around Loki’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss.
“Well…you know how you joke about us Avengers ‘saving cats from trees’ and such?” He grimaces and bends down to pick up Elliot, swinging him into his arms with a groan. “You’re getting too big for this, Elli.”
“That’s not my name,” the kid giggles, throwing his arms around Loki’s neck. “It’s E-double-L-I-O-T. Need me to spell it slower?”
“Watch it, you little silvertongue.”
Elliot just sticks out his tongue and laughs.
Rolling his eyes at the little smart-mouth in his arms, Loki waves a tired hand at his hair and makes a cat-like hissing noise at Elliot. “Anyways…guess who’s now just the friendly neighbourhood Avenger.”
“You’re kidding,” you laugh and drag him over to the sink, picking leaves out of his hair with Elliot’s help. “Well, screw that, you’ll always be a king to us.”
He chuckles tiredly, dropping the squirming kid in his arms to the floor. “Stark swore it would never happen again…he clearly just wanted to laugh at me—Elliot, what?”
Ignoring the story his dad is trying to tell, Elliot’s busy poking Loki in the thigh with one little finger, over and over and over until he gets his attention. “Come play with me. Please?”
Loki pauses for a minute and glances from his son to you, opening his mouth to say something and shutting it right after. “Would you mind giving your mother and I just a few more seconds before stealing me for the night? Don’t worry,” he quickly adds when Elliot’s face falls, “I know I’m a precious commodity. Five more minutes and I’m all yours.”
“Fine,” Elliot huffs, his shoulders dropping as he sulks out of the little kitchen, head hanging to his chest and dragging his feet. “Five minutes, dad! I’m timing you!”
Loki narrows his eyes and shoots his retreating son a strange look; “You don’t know how to tell time yet, Elliot.”
“I’ll figure it out! M’still timing you!”
“Little monster.” Loki shakes his head and turns back to you, an amused smile playing at his lips.
“I wonder who he gets that from…” you wind your arms around his neck, gently swaying side to side.
“Certainly not me.”
“Right. Cause you’re just a perfect little angel.”
He chuckles and pecks a quick bite of a kiss on your lips, gently squeezing your waist. “We both know you prefer me to be a devil.”
“Damn right.” You pull him down with a grin to meet your lips again for a proper greeting kiss. “I missed you,” you mumble after a moment, not wanting to leave his lips just yet. “Not as much as Elliot did, but I missed you a whole lot.”
Days off work without Loki by your side just seem...incomplete.
“Is that why you’re cooking, my queen?” He pushes you up against the counter, the marble digging into your back, leaning in for a kiss as your heart rate speeds up—but he just reaches around you to peek inside a pot on the stove. “This looks…dangerous.”
“Hey!” You smack his chest with the back of your hand. “That’s what I get for trying to treat my husband?”
“You’re endangering the both of us and our son with your hospitality, darling.” He grins at you and waves a hand over the pot, and right away the bubbling stops, the strange smell emitting from the pot disappearing. “Much better. You’re welcome.”
“I’m offended.”
Cool hands slip under your thighs and hoist you onto the counter, and Loki takes his place between your knees, already dragging his lips down the curve of your neck. “Let me make it up to you,” he purrs in your ear, slipping his hands under your shirt to dig into your waist. “We’ve still got a few minutes left on our Elliot timer…”
“Okay, I didn’t figure out time—what’re you doin’, dad?”
God damn it. This kid needs to learn to knock.
Elliot stops behind Loki, tapping him on the leg as Loki resurfaces from his spot happily nipping along the underside of your jaw. “I’m helping your mother cook dinner,” he sighs, stepping away from you and pushing your knees closed. “Are our five minutes up already?”
The little kid sighs too, holding up his hands with a shrug. “I dunno. I just had an idea, that’s all.” He pauses and thinks for a minute, trying to remember something. “A…a prop-uh-sition for you.”
“A proposition?” You laugh, a distracted hand running across Loki’s shoulders to curl in the hair at the nape of his neck. “By all means, good sir, do tell us.”
Loki’s eyes flutter closed when you lightly scratch at his scalp and he nearly sighs aloud—what do you think are you doing, being so absentmindedly gentle with him?
Not that you even realise. It’s just second nature, to touch him, to somehow let him know that you’re there with him. And Loki practically purrs when you play with his hair, so that makes it ten times better.
“I was thinkin’ that since I’m, ya know, lonely all the time,” Elliot starts, glancing down at his hands. “I should have a best friend. That way I don’t have to take yours, mom.”
“And who is that, Elliot?”
“Dad.” He’s avoiding your gazes for some reason and picking at the palm of one hand now—oh no.
That nervous tick looks a little too familiar.
“Oh, Elliot, you wouldn’t be taking us from each other—”
“I want a baby brother!” Elliot blurts, immediately clapping a hand over his mouth once he says it. “Sorry. Um…could I—could I get a baby brother?”
Loki’s jaw has practically fallen to the floor, and your hand freezes with fingers curled tight in his hair. “A…baby? Another one?” He stutters, turning to you with a growing grin.
“It doesn’t have to be a brother!” Elliot cuts in, trying to press his case as best he can. “A sister would be awesome too, I just…kinda want a brother. But I love sisters too.”
“What do you think, darling wife of mine?” Loki smiles at you with a gleam in his eye, reaching up to brush his fingers along your cheek. “Another baby? Give Elliot some company in our dreary home?”
He’s taking the idea better than you thought. One kid had been a big enough step in the right direction for him, but now two?? You can only hope he’s as relaxed and open to this idea on the inside as much as he shows on the outside.
“I don’t know…” you pretend to think, starting to calmly run your fingers through Loki’s hair again. “It takes a lot of hard work to get a baby.”
“Right…” Loki leans back against the counter between your knees, resting his hands on your thighs. “A lot of hard work. First there’s the request form you have to fill out, the parenting applications, then you have to wait for packaging and shipping…”
“Pay extra for shipping if you want the baby quicker,” you chime in, resting your chin on the top of Loki’s head with a smile.
Elliot nods seriously, hanging onto your every word. “I’ll help you get the baby,” he promises, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a little gold coin—one he had brought back from the last time you were all in Asgard. “Here, I’ll start saving my money. Then we can get the baby quicker.”
He presses the coin into Loki’s hand and runs off to go find the jar he keeps the rest of his coins in. “Let’s get the baby as fast as we can!” He shouts as he dashes away. “Order the baby right now!”
You can’t help but burst out laughing now that the kid is out of the room, wrapping your arms around Loki’s neck. “Right now?” You repeat between giggles. “I mean…in the kitchen? Really?”
“How about we eat dinner first,” he laughs, tipping his head back to look up at you. “Get Elliot all tucked in bed, then you and I can get to work ordering this new baby.”
He’s beaming up at you, that boyish glint in his eye, you’d almost call it excitement. You instinctively dip your head down to plant an upside-down kiss on his laughing lips, your hands cradling the sides of his face. “You’re okay with this, Loki? You really want another kid?”
His smile falters for just a moment and he keeps his eyes closed when you pull away, running your thumb over his cheekbones. “I think so,” he answers quietly, a hand coming up to rest over yours. “Yes, I-I have my fears, my doubts…but Elliot is the second greatest addition to my sorry excuse of a life.”
“Aw, snowflake,” you grin and peck another kiss on his lips. “That’s uncharacteristically sweet of you to say.”
“…the first greatest addition being my gold helmet, of course.” He licks his smirking lips and steps away from you, running a hand through his hair. “I think it truly brings out the green in my eyes, wouldn’t you agree? Makes me look exceptionally tempting—”
“Oh, shut it.” Laughing, you backhand his chest and hop off the counter, shoving him out of the way to get to the pot on the stove. “You know, we don’t have to decide tonight,” you remind him, sending him a small smile. “If you have any doubts at all then we can always wait and talk about it more, really make sure that’s what we’re gonna do.”
Loki’s smirk fades into a genuine smile when you turn your head to him, and he comes up behind you at the stove to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Elliot has made his opinion on the matter clear. What of you, my love?”
You stop stirring as you think for a moment, a trillion thoughts ricocheting around your mind. Another baby…hell yes. Another mini-Loki…hell yes. But double the chaos, double the expenses, double the lack of sleep…?
Cool lips trace up the curve of your neck, across your jaw to rest against your cheek as Loki wraps his arms tightly around your waist. “Double the gentle moments around the dinner table,” he murmurs, lightly kissing your cheek after each statement, “double the laughter in our home, double the little hands to hold, double the beautiful, bright eyes seeing for the first time, double the entertaining chaos of bath time…”
“Okay, okay, you convinced me,” you laugh and reach up to hold Loki’s face, turning your head to plant a firm kiss on his lips. “I want another baby, Loki. If you honestly do, too.”
“My wife wants another baby, my son wants another baby…” his arms squeeze tighter around your waist. “Who am I to not make that happen?”
“Are you sure?”
“As long as I have you by my side the entire way, there’s nothing two children can throw at us that we can’t handle.”
You huff a disbelieving laugh—Elliot causes enough trouble by himself, once he has a partner in crime? Yikes. But Loki’s right: you can handle it.
“…so that’s it then?” You spin around to face Loki, the gentle smile on his face melting your heart as you wave your wooden spoon at him. “You want another baby?”
“Absolutely, if you do.” He grins and leans in for another kiss.
“I want one if you do, so…do you?”
“Do you?”
“Do you?”
Loki throws his head back with a laugh, then shakes his head at you. “I do.”
A smile cracks across your face and you hold his head in both hands, pointing the dirty spoon away from his cheek. “Say it,” you ask gently, pulling him in for a kiss. “I want to hear you say it, Loki, so I know you mean it.”
His smile brushes against your lips with every heartfelt word that he spouts with a surprising amount of ease: this is not the same god you married.
This is a man with a changed heart.
“I want another baby, with you.”
You kiss him hard, your eyes screwed shut as your fingers curl around his cheek and jaw, trying to memorise how those words felt coming out of his mouth onto your lips—he means it.
“Okay, I got the money, I got the plan—hey, stop that kissin’ already.” Elliot’s back in the kitchen and tapping your thigh, a jar of coins in one hand and a paper in the other.
Loki just grins into your lips and holds you tighter in his arms, dipping you down to kiss you even harder.
“I said stop that! Stop it, stop it!” Elliot pushes between you both, trying to pry his dad’s hands off of you.
“Excuse us, Elliot,” Loki finally gasps, pulling away from your lips with an over-exaggerated smack. “We were busy. How may we help you?”
“Here’s the money for the baby.” Elliot hands you the jar of coins and starts unfolding the paper in his other hand. “And this is the kinda baby I want, so you make sure you order the right kind.”
He thrusts the paper into Loki’s hand, stepping back as you both look at it, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.
It’s a drawing, a crude sketch with scraggly arms and colours escaping the lines, but you can make out two little people sitting one in front of the other in a box that you guess is supposed to be a plane. The littler of the two stick figure kids has their crooked arms spread wide as wings, soaring through the unevenly drawn stars on the paper, around the moon in the corner.
“Me ‘n my baby are gonna go to space all the time,” Elliot explains, eagerly clasping his hands in front of his chin. “Just like you, daddy.”
“Is that so?”
You swear you can hear the fullness of Loki’s heart at that exact moment.
Loki smiles at you, putting a hand on the side of your face and pulling you towards him to press a kiss to your temple, then kneels down in front of Elliot. “We’ll get you this baby,” he promises, taking his head in both hands and placing a kiss on the kid’s forehead. “As soon as possible.”
“Can you order my baby right now?” Elliot asks, looking up at Loki as he takes the little boy’s hand, walking over to the fridge together. Loki takes one of the plastic letter magnets, the letter E, and sticks Elliot’s beautiful drawing on the door of the refrigerator.
“We’ll order it tonight,” Loki assures him, picking him up with a smile and ruffling his curly hair. “Won’t we, darling?”
You step over to join the two of them, wrapping your arms around them and tugging Loki in for a kiss. “We’re gonna order the heck out of your baby, okay?”
Elliot’s face bursts into a wide, obliviously innocent grin and he throws his arms around both of your necks. “Okay,” he giggles, squeezing you both tightly. “Okay, okay. Thank you!!”
Smutty angst. Angst induced smut. Smut induced angst. I'm a slut for emotional pain
Prompt: “nobody’s seen you in days”
Word count: 891
Warnings: angst, not too graphic lil bit rough smut (nothing too descriptive, y’all know)
A/N: for @whirlybirbs nostalgia writing challenge! Just a short lil somethin for her to read cause she is an angel who deserves Loki’s love and the whole universe. The nostalgia of this in my mind is that angsty “it wasn’t really Loki !1!!” that we all thought of when Avengers came out, but now we can quote Marvel on it soooo :))))
Loki used to always look good.
It’s an effortless kind of beauty, finding that perfect little niche between radiant and caliginous to keep himself planted, always holding a curious obscurity in his bright eyes. He’s never looked bad, or ugly, or in any way unattractive…
Tonight he looks sick.
In fact, he’s been looking sick for a while now. His eyes have sunken, cheeks gone hollow, his pale skin turned grey, and you’ve noticed he’s growing his hair out.
“I want to,” he had told you when you asked of it one night, his head turning on your lap to gaze up at you. “Something needed to change.”
It reaches to his shoulders now, straight and slightly turned up at the end of each uneven layer. A good look, you can’t deny, but just…just not him.
Tonight his eyes are red.
You hardly get a chance to see them, though. He closes them as soon as he lays beside you, turning his back to you—that’s become frequent, you’ve realised, only telling you his thoughts have been particularly troublesome the last few nights.
Right away your arm drapes over his side and you tuck your knees behind his, fingers interlacing somewhere over his chest, and you lean your head against his back.
“I’m here, y’know.”
His voice is barely audible, hoarse and cracked, echoing through his chest. “I know.”
“…for you, I mean.”
“I know.”
He accepts affection so well, doesn’t he?
You sigh and press your lips to his back, planting a light trail of kisses down his spine. It’s protruding from his back a bit more than usual these days, the rippling muscles having diminished and pulling the skin taut against his bones.
Your lips go numb after only a few seconds—his skin is ice.
The god shudders when you stop, and you can feel it. It’s almost a shiver, as if for once he felt the cold just as brutally as you do. A blind hand searches for the blanket, pulling it over the two of you, and red eyes open again.
Loki is cold, awake, exhausted.
Tonight the sheets are empty.
Your arm lays across the bed where he would be, where the indent of his body weight has nearly disappeared after having no occupant for so long. He’s been gone for days now, you’re not sure where, but you know better than to ask.
Last time you asked, he had turned his back on you and left again.
It could be months on end that he’s gone, it could be no more than a day, but every time he comes home, he’s a little further away.
“Where do you go, love?” You ask anyways, clutching his hand tighter to your chest. “Don’t you trust me enough to tell me?”
Surprisingly, a smile tugs at his lips. “To worry is precious, darling, and you do it so well.”
“I am worried about you, Loki, nobody’s seen you in days.”
“All the better for them,” he hums, passing off the question easier than a bothersome bug.
He still looks sick, but this time it seems like he knows it. That smile wasn’t very reassuring, and the kiss he places on your lips doesn’t do much to convince you either, but you have to take what you can get.
Your hands curl into his shirt before he can pull away and you press your chest to his—it’s not as solid as before, it’s sunken now and you caught a glimpse of his ribs last night when he was showering.
But you lift his shirt over his head and kiss down his bruised throat, hands toying with his belts and silently begging him to let you try to make him feel better, since he’s so keen on denying your comfort.
Tonight his love is pain.
Nails dig into your hips and his hair sticks to your cheek, his teeth clamped firmly down on your shoulder as you scramble to brace yourself against the headboard.
The pain is nice, you think when his hand finds your throat, it’s him, he’s home.
You scratch lines of red skin down his back and claw at his hand, squeezing his waist with your thighs and it’s hard to remember any other way to love, hard to remember the last soft kiss that burned your lips. These days, his kisses have gone cold.
It becomes nearly impossible to recall when Loki was careful, concerned about hurting you—or when you were worried about getting hurt.
Now you want to hurt, just so you can take some of his pain.
You tell him to move faster, squeeze harder, do everything harder, you order him to chase his release first and not hold anything back, for god’s sake, just to let this broken man feel something good for once.
He’s sweating when he peels himself away, having collapsed on your chest and held you closer than ever before when he finished, and he pulls himself off of you to lay beside you and gather you into his arms.
“I am not leaving you,” he whispers and presses his lips to your temple, “I am taken from you, you have to believe me.”
His chest heaves as he fails to catch his breath, but he kisses you anyways.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know any more.” He gazes down at you with pleading eyes, his breath wonderfully cold on your burning skin. “Do us both the favour…don’t ask.”
It’s been a hot minute since you and Loki had a night—hell, or a morning or afternoon, you aren’t picky—just to yourselves.
Kids are in every way as exhausting as everyone had warned you and complained about. Between getting Elliot to school every morning, going to work, picking him up on lunch breaks, taking him to ice hockey lessons, somehow feeding your family every night, getting all his homework done, and getting him to bed before 10pm, it’s pretty safe to say you and Loki are officially out of the honeymoon stage.
You couldn’t do it without him, obviously, he’s an amazing husband and father and definitely the only reason you still have a sliver of sanity left. He takes the lead when it comes to keeping the house running, always having steaming hot meals ready when you are able to haul yourself to the kitchen and is ready to drive whenever you’re willing to hand over your keys (and with them your life, so that hardly ever happens).
Yes, you love the hectic life you’ve created and neither of you would trade it for the world…but come on. Human beings have needs. Celestial beings do too, as Loki has made very clear to you.
“Thirteen days,” he whines, trudging behind you pushing the loaded grocery cart. “It’s been thirteen agonising days, darling, and I miss you.”
You jump up to reach a bag of tortilla chips on the top shelf, tossing them in the cart. “We are not having this conversation in a grocery store. And I should really be concerned by the fact that you’re counting…”
“Why not? It’s not like we get to discuss this at home,” he grumbles, sounding a little too much like your son—who is eight years old and actually has an excuse to whine sometimes. “Think about it. This is the first time all week we’ve been alone.”
Spinning on your heel, you raise a suspicious eyebrow at him. “Elliot’s just in the bathroom, babe. He’ll be back any second—wait, you’re not suggesting we get it on in a grocery store, are you?!”
He just flashes you a wolfish grin.
“Yeah…no. Keep it in your pants, snowflake.”
Elliot comes sprinting back down the dairy aisle and hops on the end of the cart just as you hear Loki mutter “it’s been in my pants for thirteen days. My pants hardly fit anymore.”
You smack him in the chest with a block of sharp cheddar.
The sink is filled with dirty dishes from dinner, but you’re certainly not going to be the one to do them and Loki’s knocked out on the couch right now, so there they stay. There’s a muffled humming coming from the bathroom as Elliot brushes his teeth, humming something that sounds scarily like a Drake song to himself as he gets ready for bed.
Keeping a wary eye on the bathroom door, you pour two glasses a little too full of whatever wine was in the pantry and take them over to the coffee table. Loki is snoring softly, hair fluttering with every breath, and holy shit, he looks fine as hell.
You set the glasses on the coffee table and sling a leg over Loki’s waist, settling yourself on his hips and dipping down to steal a deep kiss. He wakes with a startled grunt that quickly turns into a moan and you take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, exploring his mouth as though you’ve never tasted him before.
And oh my god, you’ve forgotten how good he does taste. How good of a kisser he is, even after just waking up. How soft his lips are, yet so demanding and dominating and—
“Ew, oh gosh, mom! Please stop!”
You fall off the couch and hit the floor with a solid thud.
“Elliot! Guess what, it’s bedtime!” You jump to your feet and fix your shirt, ushering him back down the hall with a quick glance at Loki: he’s flat on his back staring straight up at the ceiling with a murderous glare, breathing heavily. You’ve never seen more frustration on someone’s face before, and he’s holding a pillow to cover his groin.
…you’ll have to come back to that.
And you truly have every intention to, but Elliot insists you stay with him until he falls asleep. After a couple minutes of stroking your fingers through his curly black hair, your head hits the headboard and you’re out like a light.
Once he feels steady enough to walk again, Loki comes looking for you and stops in Elliot’s doorway at the sight laid before him. You’re fast asleep with Elliot’s head in your lap, fingers still lost in his mop of hair.
A smile plays at Loki’s lips and his heart undeniably swells; that’s his. You and your son, all his. He silently steps to the bedside and switches off the last lamp, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, then on Elliot’s, bidding the two of you goodnight and quietly shutting the door behind him.
After an extremely cold shower and downing both glasses of wine that you never got around to, Loki crawls into bed and is fast asleep in an instant—hugging your pillow to his chest and wishing it was you.
Fourteen.
———————————————————————
“Is it sad to say that now I get turned on just by looking at your hands?”
Loki pauses his chopping and catches your eye, the smirk on his face perfectly devilish. “Certainly makes my job easier…”
Your arms are around his waist as you stare over his shoulder at his hands; he’s only cutting up carrots for Elliot’s lunch, but the way his long fingers wrap around the handle of the knife and manoeuvre the vegetables under the blade, veins rising across the back of his hand and oh fuck, it’s been far too long since you’ve felt his hands on you.
Wrapping your arms under his, you grab his shoulders and yank him down, biting a nasty hickey into the curve of his neck.
You’re on the counter before Loki’s movement even registers and he’s between your knees and his fingers are everywhere and it’s still not enough. You can’t even breathe with his tongue working wonders against yours and you think you whacked your head against the open cupboard door, but you really couldn’t care less right now.
Clawing at his shirt isn’t giving you the feeling of his skin that you’re craving and you’re about to actually rip it from his chest when a deafening CLANG echoes through the tiny kitchen.
“That was disgusting,” Elliot retches, setting the two metal pans on the table, “and I’m going to be late for school.”
Loki looks just about ready to murder something.
Wiping your mouth off, you quickly slide off the counter and apologise to your son, leaving Loki leaning against the counter top, his knuckles turning white from gripping the edge so tightly. You throw the rest of Elliot’s things in his lunch bag, shove it in his backpack, and grab your keys.
“Bye, snowflake,” you call from the doorway, peeking your head back in the kitchen. He hasn’t moved, still looking like he’s ready to rip the marble right off the countertop. “I’ll see you after work, okay?”
He grunts and waves a hand.
“Love you!” You’re out the door as Elliot yells his goodbye too, and another crazy day begins.
The whole day you’re distracted, only able to think of just how, erm, frustrated Loki was when you left. Maybe there’s some way that you and Loki could take a trip somewhere, just the two of you and then you can have each other all day, every day without any more interruptions?
You almost swoon just at the thought.
The day drags on and you just want to go home already. Paperwork piles up until you can leave for lunch and you pack your things, hurrying to go pick up Elliot from school. You sneak to the door with your arms full, trying not to be noticed by anyone; the last thing you want right now is to be stopped by some prying coworker named Karen who wants to hear if Elliot placed as high on the honour roll as her daughter did.
You almost make it to the door but someone calls out your name and brings you to a stop. “You’ve been a little off today, sweetie.” Your boss stops you on the way out the door, taking the stack of papers out of your arms. “Go get your kiddo and take the rest of the day. I can cover for you.”
Oh, praise everything holy.
You thank her profusely and sprint to the car before she can change her mind, yanking your phone from your pocket and dialling Loki.
“I’M COMING HOME,” you practically shout when he picks up the phone. “I got the rest of the day off! And guess what. Elliot has practice today until seven.”
You can hear the grin spreading across his face. “You’re joking.”
“Not in the slightest, babe. Prepare yourself. We’re about to get a whole three hours to ourselves.”
Boy, he’s already breathing heavily. You almost burst out laughing when he growls “get home. now,” and you hear a click as he hangs up.
You try, really, you do, to not pass the speed limit on the way to Elliot’s school, try not to seem distracted as he tells you about the new book he started, but you really just want to drop him at the ice rink and get. home.
There’s a bottle of wine and a smokin’ hot, extremely touch-starved god waiting for you…it’s any wife’s dream come true.
But you walk through the door to the ice rink and hand Elliot his skates, kissing the top of his head and wishing him a good practice, and the coach comes walking out to meet you.
“We’ve got to cancel practice today,” he sighs, gesturing at the crowded rink behind him. “They forgot to tell us that they booked a match today, so we’re moving practice to tomorrow till seven. Sorry kiddo.”
It’s still illegal to stab people, right?
Loki must be rubbing off on you.
Instead of screaming and ripping your hair out like you really feel like doing, you plaster on a smile and thank the coach, ushering Elliot back to the car. So much for three hours of bliss when you get back home.
You do honestly love your son, more than anything, let’s just keep that in mind. You’re not trying to get rid of him…you just want maybe an hour or two alone with the exhausted and painfully attractive god that you’ve recently neglected. None of this is Elliot’s fault! Well…maybe a little bit, but still.
The car ride home is thick with your disappointment, and Elliot can tell. He tries to lift your spirits, having no idea what’s running through your head, by telling you about a kid in class who doesn’t believe Thor is really his uncle, and it does actually help.
It’s actually a pretty funny story, and by the time you unload the car and carry Elliot’s backpack to the front door for him, there’s a smile on your face and a twinkle in Elliot’s eye, proud of himself for making you laugh.
You’ve barely shut the door behind you when two arms latch around your waist and you’re slammed against the wall. Oh god, it’s Loki, and he’s already got his shirt off and he’s ravaging your neck like a starved man, ripping at your clothes and lifting you right off the ground.
Elliot is so shocked, the poor kid looks like he’s about to scream.
“Loki!” You screech, pushing him away and yanking your shirt back down. Loki just snarls and lunges back at you, his eyes flashing in a way that would be so hot if it weren’t for your son kind of uh…standing right there.
Shit. He still hasn’t noticed Elliot (who’s at this point just clapped his hands over his eyes, trying to run out of the room and—whoops—just ran smack into a wall). Then Loki grabs your shirt and oh fuck—he’s conjured a knife, and he’s actually going to cut your shirt off of you.
“No, Loki stop—”
Elliot screams.
“—HONEY, NO!!”
Loki jumps with his own scream and straight up drops you.
“Why are you here?!” He shrieks at his son, the knife falling to the floor with a clatter.
“I live here!!” Elliot yells back, his voice a couple octaves higher than usual. “Why were you pointing a knife at mom?!”
“It’s—it’s uh…because I love her, of course!”
“DAD! I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to show your love!!”
“Oh my god, both of you shut up,” you groan, pulling yourself off the floor and handing Loki back his dagger. “Keep. it in. your pants,” you hiss under your breath.
Loki runs a tired hand over his face and slumps against the wall, his cheeks burning red. “I thought you had practice, Elliot.”
“Yeah, well, it got cancelled,” you sigh, heading to the laundry room and grabbing the first t-shirt you can find. “Looks like we’ve all got the rest of the day together, hm?”
Loki catches the shirt you throw at him with a scowl, tugging it over his head.
The whole ridiculous, awkward situation finally seems to settle around the room and Elliot claps a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle. From his place slumped over on the floor, Loki raises a questioning eyebrow at his son.
“Sorry, sorry,” the kid giggles, scrunching up his face and shaking his head at the two of you. “That was so gross. You guys kiss each other way too much.”
Loki can’t help the tiny grin that tugs up the corners of his lips and he quickly conjures a handful of snow, throwing it right in his son’s face. “Careful. It’s incredibly disrespectful to laugh at your father, young man.”
That only makes Elliot laugh harder.
———————————————————————
By that night the whole situation appears to be thankfully forgotten by your son, and you tuck him in bed a little earlier than normal. Loki’s cleaning up, no doubt just trying to keep himself busy so that he doesn’t devour you right there in the kitchen.
Elliot is in bed, but you know he’s not asleep yet, so you have to remind yourself to stay quiet when you head back to the kitchen and wrap your arms around his waist, squishing your cheek up against your husband’s back. “I’m sorry…” you sigh, running your hands down the front of his chest. “I know you were looking forward to today.”
“Tell me, darling, what gave that away?”
You laugh, jumping up on tiptoe to press a kiss to the back of his neck. “I think for me, it was the knife,” you tease, giving his stomach an affectionate pat.
Loki laughs, a tired and defeated sound, and he turns around to lean back against the sink. “That was my last attempt. I believe I’ve lost myself, my dignity, my ability…and certainly my reputation.” He brings up a soapy hand to bop your nose. “And don’t even get me started on my self esteem. You’ve ruined me. I hope you’re happy.”
You give a halfhearted shrug and fall against his chest, closing your eyes and running a soothing hand up and down his stomach. “Hey, for the record, I miss you too, snowflake.”
His breathing stutters under your touch, even such a gentle, innocent touch, and you know that this has to stop. You’ve got to figure out a way to get some time to yourselves.
“Loki?” You tilt your head up for a slow kiss that he happily gives. “I’m calling Thor tomorrow morning. Let’s get him to watch Elliot for a week or something, so you and I can get out of here.”
He lets out a groan and melts into your arms, searching for your lips again. “And where might we go, my love?”
You think for a minute, the feel of his cool hands on your skin finally returning to memory. “Italy? France?”
He hums to let you know that any of those sound perfect, and a wonderful idea pops into your head.
“…Iceland?”
Loki throws his head back with a laugh, wrapping his arms tightly around you and walking you backwards towards the couch. “I couldn’t care less where we go, as long as I can have you the entire time.”
