😒 The bed is giant, why are you squishing me for lokius if you want!! <3
I'm sorry for the delay on this one! I purposely kept it a little vague so you can picture this taking place whenever you'd like. I hope you enjoy! ❤️
😒 The bed is giant, why are you squishing me
“Mobius?”
“Yeah?” The muffled response came from somewhere in the vicinity of Loki’s navel.
“Did you not specifically request this bed because of its size?”
“Yeah?”
Loki looked over at the expanse of empty mattress to his left, extending quite a ways, even by his own princely standards. Then he took in the lump of bedding and man currently pressed against his side. Only a hint of Mobius’ silver hair was visible from where he’d burrowed into the blankets.
“Did you not say the extra space would be worth it, when I questioned the need for such excess?”
Loki’s language had been more colorful at the time, as they had been attempting to wrestle the “king”-sized mattress through a Time Door into Mobius’ ridiculously small apartment.
The blankets rustled and Mobius’ head appeared. His hair was only slightly disheveled, but still Loki found himself reaching out to neaten it. Mobius looked at him with amused fondness.
“Loki, what’s the question?”
Loki continued running his fingers through Mobius’ hair idly, looking into the face of the man who had changed his life. Under the covers, Mobius’ had one leg thrown over his, the warmth of his body a comforting reminder that he was here, that Loki was no longer alone.
“Nevermind,” Loki said.
Mobius quirked an eyebrow before leaning in for a quick kiss.
“Then go to sleep.” He laid down again, though this time he did not attempt to disappear under the blanket.
“Yes, dear.”
A soft snort against his chest was Mobius’ only response.
From this prompt list. Other fills will be under this tag.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Title: How to Shred Trails (and win hearts)
Rating: M (for mild NSFW)
Fandom: Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Relationship: Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian
Some Additional Tags: Getting together, general silliness, flirting without realizing you're flirting, some road and mountain biking lingo.
Word Count: 4.8k [complete]
I finally got around to archiving my silly little threadfic from last year two years ago where I indulged both my love of road cycling and mountain biking by creating a super niche AU. If you read it on the bird site, most of it is the same, but I did add a second chapter with 1.1k words I wrote but never posted.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Loki (TV 2021)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Loki/Mobius M. Mobius
Characters: Loki (Marvel), Mobius M. Mobius, Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: Movie: The Avengers (2012), Canon Divergence - Post-Movie: The Avengers (2012), Missing Scene, Banter, Jealous Loki (Marvel), Explicit Sexual Content, Porn with Feelings, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Sexual Roleplay, (sort of?), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Words: 3333
Series: Part 3 of What if...? (An Avengers AU)
Summary:
A missing scene from the Avengers AU, A Desperate Play for Control.
Mobius finally finds out why Captain America tried to kiss him in the S.H.I.E.l.D. breakroom.
This AU is never far from my heart.🥺 If it’s completely new to you, please start here with @wolfpup026‘s amazing cover art!! The original fic is long but it will give you the context you need for this missing scene.
I can’t believe I last posted something for this AU in October. I miss them on daily basis!! 😭 Anyway, I hope you will enjoy! <3
🥱 Too tired to sleep (and soft endings are always welcome) - writer's choice pairing!
Here you go! A little bit of angst, a little bit of softness, and per my usual, not a very little fill at all. 😂 I hope you enjoy!
🥱 Too tired to sleep
(with post-S2 Lokius)
Being relieved of his Yggdrasil-guarding duties should have been a relief. It should have felt like the weight he had been carrying for countless centuries had been lifted from his shoulders.
In a way it had, but in its place was a bone-deep weariness that shadowed Loki through the halls of the TVA, haunted his conversations with friends he thought he would never see again, and lingered in a room that was painfully familiar. How many hours had he and Mobius spent on this couch, paperwork spread on the coffee table before them, trying to solve a problem that was ultimately unsolvable? At least, in a way that kept them all together.
“You look beat,” Mobius said. “You wanna take the bed?”
“The couch will be fine, thank you.”
The emotional reunion had taken place when Loki came back to himself to find Mobius—impossibly—standing before his throne, a hand on Loki’s arm, trying to gently rouse him. The following events were a blur now, or perhaps that was due to the exhaustion that swept in once he was no longer actively powering the timelines. He did remember swaying on his feet and Mobius catching him against one side, an arm around his back to steady him.
Loki had welcomed the touch and was grateful it remained as he was helped through a Timedoor back into the Loom observation room. The sight of it made Loki shudder. Even after however long he had been in the tree, the memories of his many failures here were fresh in his mind.
Mobius could not possibly know that, but he had kept Loki moving: out of the room that no longer hummed with the power of the Loom, down a twisty set of corridors until they arrived at the Automat. The sight of it had made Loki smile, given him enough of a boost to make it through a brief reunion with O.B., Casey, and B-15, before Mobius suggested he get some rest and led him away.
Loki blinked, realizing he had been staring at the couch blankly. When he raised his gaze to Mobius’, he saw fondness and concern in equal parts.
“Perhaps I shall have that rest,” he said, summoning a smile. It did not fully erase Mobius’ worry, but it appeared to help.
“Alright, let me get you a blanket. You’re sure I can’t convince you to take the bed?”
Loki shook his head; his smile grew when Mobius threw his hands up, though the gesture carried only mild exasperation. Loki lowered himself down to the couch cushions—strange how even this could feel familiar and yet so different after the throne he had occupied—and waited until Mobius returned with more bedding than seemed necessary.
After helping him get comfortable, Mobius lingered beside the couch.
“Well, holler if you need anything,” he eventually said.
“I will.” Loki reached out and Mobius took his hand immediately, gripping it with a strength that felt grounding. “Thank you, Mobius.”
“Of course.” Mobius squeezed his hand and then, with another backwards glance, switched off the living room light and went into his bedroom.
Loki was tired—exhausted to his very core—yet try as he might, he could not fall asleep. His body felt heavy again, no longer weighed down by glorious purpose but by the centuries he had stood watch over the timelines. It should have been easy to sleep, genuinely sleep in a way he hadn’t in ages, but he seemed unable to let go and allow sleep to claim him.
The passage of time had already been confusing at the TVA—and locking himself within a tree made of timelines had not helped—so he didn’t know how long he lay there, waiting and growing more frustrated with each minute that passed. When he closed his eyes, he saw glowing tendrils, so he stared at the barely visible ceiling overhead and sighed deeply.
The sound of a door opening caught his attention.
“Loki?”
It was said quietly enough that he might have missed it had he been sleeping. As he wasn't, Loki started to sit up.
“Mobius? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get up, everything’s fine.” Mobius’ voice drew closer in the dark. “Just couldn’t sleep. I’m surprised you’re up.”
Loki swung his legs down and twisted to look up when Mobius stopped by the couch. There was faint light coming from the kitchenette, enough to see his outline in the darkness, but not his face.
“I can’t seem to sleep either,” Loki said. “Strange, given I don’t remember the last time I did.”
The silence that followed had a weight to it; Loki remembered the look on Mobius’ face when he asked how long it had been. None of them knew.
“Mind if I sit?”
Loki’s lips quirked up in an unseen smile. “It is your couch.”
Mobius’ chuckle was comforting, as was the feel of the couch cushion dipping with his weight. Then Mobius knocked their shoulders together lightly.
“Okay, funny guy. Next time I’ll just sit on you.”
Loki chuckled, before realizing he had felt the edge of a shirt sleeve against his arm. Had Mobius changed into pajamas? Loki could picture them easily: ridiculous, bright orange, and stamped with the TVA logo.
Loki had left behind the emerald robes for the simplicity of his own TVA clothes when he came through the Timedoor. The long-sleeved shirt should have been warm enough but the room felt cool now that he had pushed the blanket aside. Without thinking, Loki flipped the blanket up and draped it around both of them. He felt Mobius freeze, and he likewise went tense. Then, after a soft exhale, Mobius leaned more of his weight against Loki’s side. Loki relaxed as well. He still felt weary to the core, but sitting here with Mobius, he no longer felt crushed by it.
Another long silence followed. Then, in the darkness, Mobius spoke, barely audible.
“It's good to have you back.”
Loki swallowed, his chest tight, then felt around until he found Mobius’ hand, carefully sliding their fingers together.
“It’s good to be back.”
Mobius squeezed his hand in reply and let out a shaky breath. Loki also exhaled, feeling some of the tension he had carried to this moment fade away. He relaxed against the couch, leaning more into Mobius. Perhaps sleep would come soon, perhaps not. He was content to stay like this for as long as he could. They had time now.
From this prompt list. Other fills will be under this tag.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Loki (TV 2021)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Loki/Mobius M. Mobius
Characters: Loki (Marvel), Mobius M. Mobius
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Western, Sheriff Mobius M. Mobius, Outlaw Loki Laufeyson, POV Loki (Marvel), Enemies to Lovers, Pining, Bandits & Outlaws
Series: Part 7 of Unwavering Forces
Summary:
He couldn’t relax—hadn’t been able to in months, really. Only one place allowed him that luxury and he hadn’t been back there since that disastrous morning after the flash flood.
Mobius thought all Loki had to do was hang up his guns to earn a peaceful life, but if he ran off now, he would always be on guard, no matter where he went.
But you’d have someone to watch your back, came the voice in his head that sounded very much like a certain silver-haired sheriff.
Holed up with his gang, Loki finds his thoughts returning time and time again to the man he has been trying not to think of since their last parting.
Happy Yee Haw Sunday! 🤠💚🧡 I meant to post this 5 months ago and yet here we are. This takes place after the events in Distrateddream's fic "Slept a Lifetime Alone", which you should read not only for context but also because it's really good!
Bed sharing prompt: 🥺 Afternoon nap (and if it happens to become an afternoon delight, well, you would be contributing to the number of E fics!)
Thank you sooooo much for your patience in waiting for this, and thank you for the prompt as well! It's Yee Haw Sunday and I'm here to bring another steamy encounter with cowboy Lokius to help keep people warm. Or so I hope. 😅
This will start on tumblr before I link to the ao3 version. You can also go straight to the ao3 version here.
Bed sharing prompt: 🥺 Afternoon nap
CW NSFW
Raising a house weren’t no easy job and doing it in the heat of July made the work even harder. Mobius joined the other men at the Anderson property before the sun had fully come over the horizon and they’d worked for hours—until it was directly overhead—before calling an end for the day. One by one they dumped buckets of water over their heads, but even with that brief bit of relief, Mobius felt drained to the core. He went back to his house to rest and hoped no one would need him for a few hours.
The heat made it so he couldn’t completely fall asleep, even stripped down to his drawers. He dozed instead, facedown on the bed, drifting in and out of consciousness, which was why he thought the voice was a dream at first.
“Looks like someone wore you out, Sheriff.”
There were fingers on his bare back a moment later, trailing down to his waistband. Mobius tried pulling his thoughts together, even as his body fought to stay asleep.
“’S’hot,” he mumbled into his pillow.
“Too hot for a little fun?” Loki purred above him, sparking a different kind of warmth in Mobius’ body.
That light touch became hands braced on his back as Loki climbed onto the bed to straddle Mobius’ thighs. He felt calloused fingers glide up his back and then thumbs were digging into the meat of his shoulders. Mobius barely heard Loki’s chuckle over his own groan.
“Remind you of anything?”
“’Course it does.” He’d never forget that first night Loki caught him unawares at Eleanor’s place. Mobius was barely wearing more than he had then, but he’d be happy to change that if Loki let him up.
Seemed the outlaw had other ideas. He kept working at the tension in Mobius’ shoulders, making it harder and harder to resist the pull of sleep. Mobius got a little lost in exactly what Loki was doing—too focused on the warmth of his hands and the weight holding him down—so when Loki guided Mobius’ arms up over his head, he allowed it.
He felt something brush one wrist, something scratchy and kinda familiar, but then Loki’s tongue traced the outer edge of his ear. Mobius shivered and squirmed and was further distracted when the movement ground his growing erection into the mattress. He only realized what the itchy sensation had been when the rope tightened.
He tried pulling away, but his wrist was caught tight. A moment later, Loki had it twisted up behind his back.
“You know, I had considered hogtying you but that would make my plans a little difficult,” Loki said, his lips still by Mobius’ ear.
Mobius’ heart thundered in his chest as he wondered if this was the moment Loki finally ended their game.
“What plans are those?” he asked, annoyed at how breathless he sounded. It only encouraged Loki, who answered with a kiss on the nape of his neck, then across one shoulder. It was such a gentle, familiar touch, at odds with the rope and the hold Loki had him in. The contrasting sensations stoked the fire lit inside him, leaving him in a right pickle.
Then Loki bit down, setting off another jolt of heat, before releasing Mobius’ arm and sliding off. Mobius waited a second then hurried to push himself up onto his hands and knees. He nearly fell when Loki pulled the rope taut, yanking Mobius’ right hand out from under him.
Mobius’ heart was still racing as he looked up at Loki, seated on his knees. He’d shucked his duster and had that half-smirk on, the one Mobius sometimes had trouble seeing through. His hat was also missing—a quick glance showed he’d left it on the table. Mobius was even more surprised to see Loki’s gunbelt beside it; Loki always kept that near.
They watched at each other in silence, until Loki slowly pulled the rope. Mobius had to shuffle closer or risk fallin’ on his face again. Loki ran his other hand down Mobius’ bare chest, curling his fingers to drag his nails.
“What plans?” Mobius said, licking his lips.
“How badly do you want to find out?” Loki murmured and kissed Mobius before he could answer. Mobius leaned into it, his free hand gripping Loki’s shoulder to stay upright. Then Loki let go of the rope to cup Mobius’ head as he gently teased his mouth open.
This was the moment where he could pull the rope off his wrist and try to get some space to find out what was going through Loki’s head.
Or he could trust him, trust that whatever Loki had in mind, it wasn’t harm. It didn’t seem like it was, not when Loki was pushing his other hand under the waistband of Mobius’ drawers to touch his cock. Mobius groaned and tried to push his hips forward, but Loki kept them apart.
“So what’s it going to be, Sheriff?” Loki asked against his lips.
“Well, seems like you caught me,” Mobius said, leaving out the fair and square. Loki played dirty and they both knew it.
Lokius 😱 (H/C #13) for the bed sharing prompts? (Whichever flavor of Lokius variants strikes your fancy is just fine with me 😉)
Thank you for the prompt and for letting me pick the flavor! I got bit by the cowboy Lokius bug and, in my usual fashion, went way overboard. Sorry to dump 3k on you instead of a nice short fill, but I hope you enjoy it! (Feel free to add it to your TBR list 🤣)
Happy Yee Haw Sunday, everyone!
😱 Can't fall asleep (danger)
CW blood, mild injury description
The gunshots came first. Then the shouts for help.
Mobius wheeled his horse around, one hand dropping to his revolver, and saw a man almost falling over himself as he ran towards them. Mobius had accompanied the stagecoach along its full route, worried about recent robberies, but it seemed trouble had found him in the next town over instead of on the road. This wasn’t his town to protect, but that wouldn’t stop him wantin’ to help.
“Shoot out!” the newcomer gasped. He wore an apron so it wasn’t much of a surprise when his next words were, “Saloon!”
There were gasps from those inside the stagecoach and the crowd that’d come to meet them.
Mobius swung down, hastily wound Brandy’s reins around the nearby hitching post, and pulled his rifle free of the saddle holster. The bartender came to a stumbling halt and Mobius grabbed his arm to keep him upright.
“What happened?”
“S-shoot out. Dunno why. Jus’ had one customer, then some men came in—mean lookin’ fellas—and next thing I knew, they all started shooting!”
“Where’s your sheriff?”
The bartender shrugged helplessly. With Mobius’ luck, whoever looked after this town was sleeping off a long night of drinking somewhere.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered, but he headed in the direction the bartender had come. The street had emptied, though not everyone had retreated inside. Gawkers pressed against buildings, watching him pass with wide eyes. Some people had no sense.
Mobius flinched as another gunshot sounded, but it was just the one. It was a reminder for him to get his own damn self out of the street. He went left, hurrying along the building fronts. A few people still lingering to watch ducked out of his way. The general store sat on a corner, with the saloon around the bend, so Mobius paused there to peer around the building.
A man in dusty black clothes stood out front, two pistols in hand. Mobius’ heart stopped, until he looked closer and saw the man’s profile was all wrong. Another figure in black lay crumpled in a heap on the saloon steps.
“How much longer you gonna hide in there?” the man called to whoever was still in the saloon. “I got more men comin’ than you got bullets.”
Well, wasn’t this a real bag o’ nails. The man could be bluffing, but if he was tellin’ the truth, whoever was trapped was in real trouble. Mobius didn’t know what their argument was—and frankly didn’t care. He only wanted to keep the town from being shot up any more than it already was.
“How ‘bout we—” The rest of what Mobius planned to say was lost when he ducked back ’round the corner to dodge a bullet. The onlookers nearby finally went inside. Thank the Lord. Mobius stayed where he was and raised his voice. “Look, fellas, I got no quarrel with ya, but you need to take this outta town.”
There was a brief pause, followed by a man—he assumed the man in black—yelling, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Nobody,” Mobius answered. “I’m just lookin’ out for the townsfolk.” Naming himself might get even more bullets sent his way.
“Mind yer own business!”
Mobius chanced a look around the corner and saw the man had split his attention between the door of the saloon and Mobius’ hiding spot. There had been no movement from inside the building.
“You sure anyone’s even alive in there?” Mobius said. “Your business might be finished already.”
Another silence, during which Mobius took another look. The man was watching the saloon doors, considering Mobius’ words.
Mobius said, “Let me come out and we can go have a look together. How’s that sound?”
A shorter pause before the response came.
“Alright, come on out, but keep yer hands up.”
He didn’t say anything about weapons so Mobius took a chance. He raised both hands, one still holding his rifle, and began to slide around the corner. At this distance, he couldn’t see the man’s face clearly, but he caught the sudden narrowing of his eyes.
“A sheri—”
The first shot caught the man in the shoulder, spinning him around. The second dropped him like a stone. Mobius crouched, heart pounding, and waited for follow-up shots. The man had stood out there so long, Mobius really had thought the person inside must be dead or out of bullets.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered again. Now he had to hope whoever was left had more sense than the dead men.
He slid around the corner and hurried to the side of the saloon building. The man in the street had been in plain sight, but Mobius had the advantage of cover.
“Alright,” he called, “if that man was tellin’ the truth, you ain’t got long before company shows up. Your best bet is lettin’ me in, so I can see about helpin’ you out of town.”
Silence was his answer. Were they finally out of ammo? Succumbed to their wounds? Mobius hunched over—wincing as his back protested—and tried to stay below the windows as he crept towards the doorway. He paused there, but there was still no response.
“I’m comin’ in.” He took a deep breath and then stood, raised his hands, and pushed through the doors.
The saloon was a mess. Tables and chairs overturned, bottles behind the bar shot out. There were two more bodies, dressed much like the ones outside. So far, it seemed to match the bartender’s story of a gang ambushing one person. No sign of who that was, though.
“Anyone alive in here?”
“Unfortunately,” came the strained response. Mobius’ stomach dropped. The voice had come from behind the bar and was worryingly familiar. He pushed his way through the mess and came around the edge of the counter to see Loki Laufeyson sprawled on the floor, half-propped up against the bar, his gun steady on Mobius.
“Goddamn it.”
Loki wore his usual all black getup, but he had one hand pressed to his thigh and the palm was stained dark red. Mobius almost swore again, for all the good it would do.
“What the hell’re you doin’ here?”
“Enjoying a whiskey,” Loki said, feigning calm; his voice gave away the pain he must’ve in. “At least until this lot showed up.”
“And what did they want with you?”
Loki shrugged. “I have made a great many enemies over the years.”
“Yeah, well, I ain’t exactly been making friends either.” A lawman never did. Mobius glanced at the door. “Any idea if he was telling the truth about more comin’?”
Loki finally lowered his revolver. “It’s possible. There are more of them than I shot here.”
Mobius smoothed down his mustache and tried to keep a cool head. Last he’d seen of Loki, the outlaw had been slippin’ out of Mobius’ house before the sun had come up. That was how most of their encounters went these days and as grateful as Mobius was to see him, he coulda asked for better circumstances.
He set the rifle on the bar and knelt beside Loki; he didn’t miss the way Loki’s gun hand twitched.
“Where’s your horse?” Mobius asked as he pulled off his neck kerchief. He eyed Loki’s leg, wondering if one kerchief was enough—and tried not to think about how he oughtta know with as often as he’d had his hands on Loki—then reached for Loki’s kerchief. This brought the gun back up, Loki’s eyes wide and panicked, like a cornered animal. Mobius froze, then moved more slowly, turning Loki’s kerchief around so he could untie it.
Then he tied the two together and tapped the hand Loki had pressed to his wound.
“I need to bind this before you bleed out,” he said as calmly as he could; his stomach was churning at the thought. Loki’s chest was rising and falling too quickly for the composed facade he was clinging to, but he lowered the gun and moved his hand, looking away.
Mobius wrapped the makeshift bandage around Loki’s thigh, wincing when Loki hissed in pain. He didn’t even know if the bullet was still in there—something he’d have to figure out once he got Loki out of here. If he could do that, if Loki didn’t die on the way.
He shut that thought right down, rising to peer over the bar. Still no sign of anyone outside. He looked down at Loki, who watched him warily.
“Where’s your horse?”
“Out back.”
And Mobius’ was with the stagecoach. His mind spun with possible plans. Did the townsfolk know who Loki was? The bartender hadn’t said Laufeyson was cornered, so they might not. Mobius could claim he was taking Loki to safety, but what would happen if word got out that the man he helped was the infamous bandit? Should he reveal who it was and say he was takin’ him in? Mobius didn’t see Loki going along with that one.
“Can you ride?” Mobius asked, and couldn’t help the dubious note in his voice. It sparked annoyance in Loki’s eyes. He grit his teeth and dragged himself to his feet, leaning his weight heavily on the uninjured leg.
“Of course I can.”
Stubborn son of a bitch.
“Two bucks says you collapse a mile outta town.” Loki’s glare bounced off him. “Look, here’s what we’re gonna do.”
—
Loki refused at first—too uppity for such an undignified plan, Mobius guessed—but he must’ve been hurtin’ more than he let on because he didn’t push past Mobius to take his chances on his own. Mobius just hoped he didn’t bleed out before they got out of town.
Mobius went through the doors of the saloon first to stand on the porch.
“Everything’s alright now.” He spotted the bartender—along with several others—peering around the corner he’d used for cover. “Any sign of your sheriff?”
The man shook his head, then cautiously came out of hiding. “They all dead?”
“’Fraid so, and your bar’s a mess.”
The man looked dismayed but not surprised.
“Your customer was a wanted man, so I’m takin’ the body with me to report it. I don’t recognize the rest of ‘em.” He gestured to the bodies on the steps and in the dirt. “Maybe your sheriff will have some idea.”
“O’course. T-thank you, sir,” the bartender stammered, and came closer to give him a clammy handshake. More people were starting to gather, but Mobius needed to get movin’.
“I didn’t do nothin’,” Mobius said, and he really hadn’t. Unless you counted him distracting the bandit so Loki could take the shot. “Can someone fetch my horse while I get the body?”
Every time he referred to Loki as a body, his chest tightened, but he tried not to show it. He went back inside, crossing to the bar quickly, before anyone followed him in. Loki was sitting out of sight, still conscious.
“You ready?” Mobius asked.
Loki grit his teeth. “As much as I can be, I suppose.” He holstered his pistol, but tension radiated from him.
“This’ll probably hurt,” Mobius said apologetically. “Jus’ try to keep quiet.”
Loki’s eyes narrowed—as if he could look any more mad than he already was—but he said nothing as Mobius knelt down and pulled him closer. For a second, it was like they were about to embrace and Mobius’ breath caught at the thought. Then he bent and dragged Loki’s weight across one shoulder.
Loki made a noise through gritted teeth, his whole body tense, as Mobius staggered to his feet. Before Mobius could remind him, Loki went limp, his arms hanging down Mobius’ back. Mobius put a hand on Loki’s thigh, half-covering the kerchief bandage. He was glad the redness in his face could be attributed to the strain of carrying a grown man. Then he went out back.
This was the hard part: transferring Loki to his horse. Mobius did it as carefully as he could, draping Loki sideways over the saddle. He knew it wasn’t painless but Loki stayed quiet. Seeing him like that reminded Mobius too much of when he’d taken Loki’s man back to bury him. He had to reach out and put a hand on Loki’s back to feel his breaths, shallow they might be.
Loki’s mount nudged Mobius with his nose. Good thing all those apple bribes had brought the horse around, or this plan wouldn’t have worked.
“Go easy now,” Mobius murmured as he gathered the reins, then slowly led the horse around to the front of the saloon.
There were far more people gathered now, but someone had fetched Brandy, who whickered when she caught sight of him. Or maybe she was greetin’ the black stallion followin’ him.
“Thank ya kindly,” Mobius said, bringing Loki’s horse close enough to tie the reins to Brandy’s saddle. He looked around, catchin’ eyes with the bartender. “If anyone comes along, you tell ’em exactly what happened: there was a shootout and then Sheriff Mobius took the wanted man’s body with him when he left.”
That’d put trouble on their tail, but Mobius didn’t want these innocent people getting tangled up in somethin’ that wasn’t their business. He swung up into the saddle and turned Brandy towards home, nudging her into as gentle a walk as he could. With Loki’s mount in toe, he headed out of town.
Loki wouldn’t make it the whole way back in the condition he was in, so Mobius’ plan was to find a place to hole up and let the outlaw recover enough to ride on his own. On the way into town, he’d seen a spot that could work: a rocky hill with enough trees to obscure them. It would be an obvious place for anyone chasin’ them to look, but they weren’t exactly spoiled for choices.
Once in cover, Mobius slid off his horse and hurried over to Loki, who had remained still and silent the whole ride.
“Loki?” He put a hand on Loki’s back and felt his heartbeat, weak as it was.
“Mobius…” Loki attempted to lift himself up and started to slide off the saddle feet-first. Mobius caught him with both arms around his waist, before Loki’s weight could land on his injured leg. Loki groaned at the sudden stop.
“I gotcha,” Mobius murmured and flushed at the intimacy of the hold. Not the time or place, he reminded himself. He dragged Loki over to the most shaded spot and lowered him down. Then he went to move the horses out of sight.
He couldn’t help looking over at Loki again and again, watching for signs he was getting worse. Loki was propped up against a rock, eyes closed and lips pressed together tightly. He was awake, for now.
One eye cracked open as Mobius came back to his side with a water bag, but he wouldn’t let Mobius help, taking it from him and raising it to his lips. Mobius chose not to comment on how Loki’s hand shook, instead looking at the wound. The kerchiefs were stained but with all the jostling, it weren’t a surprise to see it had bled more.
“Is the bullet in there?”
Loki shook his head. “Passed through.” He glanced down, then away. “Or so I believe.”
Mobius chewed his lip. “Can I check?”
Loki eyed him, pale, drenched in sweat, and still looking dangerous as hell. Then he looked away again. “If you must.”
Mobius placed a hand lightly on Loki’s thigh, feeling him twitch, then slid it around to the underside. It felt intimate, even under these circumstances. He probed with his fingers cautiously along the edge of the kerchief, then pulled back when Loki suddenly hissed. A knot in Mobius’ stomach loosened.
An exit wound meant Loki wouldn’t have to suffer Mobius diggin’ around in his leg. Didn’t mean they were out of danger yet.
“We should wash it,” Mobius said. The outlaw pressed his lips together, then took a shaky breath and said, tersely, “Fine.”
Aware they might be on borrowed time, Mobius worked as quickly as he could. He used one of Loki’s knives to cut his pant leg open so he could rinse the wound with water before following with liberal splashes of whiskey. Loki paled even further but stayed conscious. Mobius dug through his saddlebags for a clean shirt and tore it into strips to rebind Loki’s wound.
He half-expected a dry comment about how often Mobius ruined his own clothing for Loki, but the outlaw seemed too focused on staying awake. Once done, Mobius checked the path they’d taken but saw no signs of pursuit yet.
“Sun’s goin’ down,” he said, unnecessarily, but it got Loki’s attention. “You get some rest and we might be able to leave in the mornin’. I’ll keep watch til then.”
Loki was looking a mite bit cornered again, which made Mobius sigh.
“You went along with all that—” he waved towards the horses “—but can’t trust me to guard you while you sleep?” He could’ve pointed out the number of times Loki had seen fit to sleep in Mobius’ presence, but maybe the sex made that different.
Or being wounded and vulnerable.
Mobius blew out a breath and went back to the horses. He’d left the saddles on, in case they needed a hasty getaway, but he could brush around them.
“Not like I’m stickin’ my neck out enough as is,” he grumbled to himself. Brandy flicked her tail in agreement, or so he told himself. Loki’s mount had nothing to add on the subject.
He half-expected Loki to have passed out when he came back, but the outlaw was still awake…barely.
Keepin’ himself conscious out of pure spite, Mobius thought grumpily.
He began gathering up the remains of his shirt and damn near jumped outta his skin when Loki grabbed his wrist. He looked up into green eyes set in a face tense with pain.
“Thank you, Mobius,” Loki said quietly. Mobius’ traitorous heart flipped in his chest. He laid a hand over Loki’s.
“’Course. Get some rest. I’ll wake ya if I hear anythin’.”
Loki stared at him a moment more, then gave a small nod. He closed his eyes, head tipped back against the rock, and was out like a light. Mobius watched him—the frighteningly pale skin, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the slightly parted lips he knew too well—and went to shove the scraps of his shirt in his saddle bags. When he came back, he leaned against the rocks opposite Loki where he’d have a view of the road, rested his rifle in the crook of his arm, and prepared for the long night ahead.
From this prompt list. Other fills will be under this tag.
For the bed sharing prompts: 💡 Needing white noise or a night light (Lokius :))
Thank you for the prompt! This is pre-relationship but hopefully you'll still like it! Going to put it under a read more since it got a little long. 🙈
💡 Needing white noise or a night light
Mobius waited until he was alone in his quarters before calling on Miss Minutes for help.
“Howdy! What can I do for ya?” she said, popping into existence.
“Can you pull up the security feed for room 674C?”
“Sure thang!”
On Mobius’ TemPad, the pixels resolved to a view from above of where he’d left the Loki variant. They didn’t usually keep variants around, and when they did it was in a time cell, but Mobius wanted Loki to work with him. He’d found a floor within the TVA with forgotten rows of single occupant rooms and brought Loki to one to see if he could build a little trust. Even if he’d had to lock Loki in the first time.
“After that chase you led everyone on, I have to,” he’d explained, “but if you behave, show you’re serious about wanting to help, then we can talk.” He’d pointed out the PJ’s and toiletries and left him to rest.
Time worked differently at the TVA but that didn’t mean there were no breaks. In addition to their 17 minute meals, all TVA workers had a rest period in between working shifts. The problem was, Loki didn’t look like he was getting any rest, which left Mobius wondering what he was up to in their downtime. He hoped it wasn’t another escape plan, but it wouldn’t have surprised him.
By the second “morning”, Loki had been looking a little too close to how he had when he came through the portal in that S.H.I.E.L.D. base. They’d never kept a Loki variant within the TVA. Could something in the walls be affecting his biology?
On the TemPad screen, Loki appeared to be sleeping: he was lying on his side, partly curled up, eyes closed. However, the lights were on and since there wasn’t any light fixture other than the overheads, the room was awash in bright yellow light. Mobius couldn’t imagine trying to sleep under those conditions.
“Does he know how to turn the lights off?” he wondered aloud.
“Yep,” Miss Minutes chirped. “I switched them off the first night and he put them right back on.”
It didn’t make any sense. As far as he knew, Jotunn needed sleep like most other creatures. But Loki had been showing serious signs of being deprived of it.
“Is that all you need?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Miss Minutes winked out of existence, leaving Mobius to sit and watch Loki in bewildered silence.
—
He thought he knew everything he needed to know about Lokis and what made them tick, but this new behavior had Mobius going back to the Archives—skipping out on his own rest—to look for answers. He took this particular Loki’s file to a table and began flipping through it, scanning the info for anything relevant.
His life matched that of his Sacred Timeline counterpart, up until his nexus event. Mobius knew most of this data by heart, so he read through it in reverse order, starting with the Battle of New York and then the events preceding it.
“Time spent between worlds: unknown,” he read out loud. What must that have been like, floating in space—or whatever lay between the boundaries of the Nine Realms—until he was eventually found by Thanos? All alone in the dark, wondering if there was any end to hope for.
Mobius froze, then re-read Loki’s fall from the Bifost. Then he smacked himself in the head with the folder he held. He was an idiot for not seeing it right away. Shuffling the papers back into the folder, he slapped it closed before hurrying out of the Archives.
—
Of course, Requisitions gave him a hard time when he went down to make his request.
“All rooms come with the standard items and nothing can be replaced unless it’s broken,” the clerk behind the desk said, her tone long-suffering. “Is it broken?”
“Uh, no.” Mobius wracked his brain for ideas. “What about something new? A little change of scenery?”
She gave him a long look, then pulled out a thick binder with dog-eared papers in it. She flipped through it, pausing to read a couple of times, then set it aside with a sigh.
“I guess that’s not against the rules.”
“Great!”
—
Loki, with dark circles starting to form under his eyes, seemed curious about the bag Mobius brought along to his room.
“Please don’t tell me I’m being given more work to do in my spare time.”
“You wanted to be helpful, right?” Mobius replied, grinning at Loki’s dismay. “It’s not that, don’t worry.”
Mobius usually left Loki at the door but today he followed him inside. Then he stopped, seeing that the room was so sparsely furnished, there wasn’t even a bedside table. Oh well, the look of the thing wasn’t the point.
He set the bag down and pulled out his surprise: a small brown table lamp with an orange lampshade.
“Is the TVA aware there are other colors in the universe?” Loki asked dryly.
“What’s wrong with brown?” said Mobius, in his usual brown suit. “I thought you could use something to zhuzh up the place.”
Loki gave the lamp an unimpressed look. That was alright. Mobius hadn’t expected an effusive show of gratitude. He took the lamp over to the bed—the only other piece of furniture—and plugged it into the wall. When he switched it on, the area by the bed took on a softer, yellow-orange hue.
He looked to Loki for a reaction.
“Yes, it really livens up my prison cell,” Loki said.
Mobius chuckled and started towards the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Which still makes no sense!” Loki called after him.
—
Mobius felt a little guilty for pulling up the security feed for Loki’s room when he got back to his own quarters. He wasn’t looking to spy on him all the time, but he wanted to see what happened.
The TemPad showed Loki had moved to sit on the bed. The overhead lights were still on, and the longer Loki sat, without moving, the more Mobius began to doubt his suspicions.
Then Loki stood and crossed the room to turn off the overhead. It left the room mostly shadowed, except for warm glow from the lamp on the floor. Loki got onto the bed, curling up on his side like Mobius had seen before, and seemed to fall asleep. Mobius watched a little longer, then closed the TemPad. He hoped that had done the trick.
—
When he fetched Loki from his room the following morning, the bags under the god’s eyes were less prominent and there was even a little pep in his step.
From this prompt list. Other fills will be under this tag.
