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lareinenoir · 4 years ago

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The Knots (Chris Evans Fanfic)

Warning: swearing

Summary: You receive an email from your boss that says your hairstyle is not professional to be on TV. When Chris finds out, he isn’t to happy.

_________

“Hey baby.” Said Chris walking into the house, hugging you from behind as you stood over the stove, continuing to make stir fry. “How was your day?” He asks, leaning on your shoulder and laying a small kiss on your neck.

“Fine.” You sighed and you toss some of the pork to Dodger who was laying on the ground right next to you.

“Fine?” He questions with a head tilt and a small frown. “What happened?” He asks as you move the pan and walk over to the rice cooker to the other side of the island to the rice cooker.

“Nothing, it was just a long day.” You smiled giving him a tiny spoonful of rice to try. “Good?” You asked quickly changing the subject and smiling at him as he nodded. “How was the shoot?”

“It went really well” He chews, stealing another bite and nods up at the towel on your head. “ I didn’t see you on the news today? That was today, right?” He asks remembering your shared calendar and the fact that you had circled it in a red marker, A red PERMANENT marker.

“No, I read the date wrong.” You said as he looked up

“What happened? Didn’t you do your hair last night?” he asks recalling the long night you had with wash day being yesterday and the style you decided to put your hair in. “Why’d you take it out, I liked it.”

“I found a different style. You ready to eat?” You asked grabbing some plates and started plating the rice and and the pork veggie stir fry on top. “You want some plantains?” You ask him as you continue to dodge his question of, ‘whats wrong.’ “We can eat outside or at the table?”

“Baby, whats wrong?” He asks once again as you stuff your mouth with rice. “Come on, you hardly said anything to me about your day.”

“Chris, I really just don’t wanna talk about it.” You say with a mouthful, accidentally on purpose slamming your fork down and walk away from the island. “Honestly!” You shout going into your shared room and slamming the bathroom door shut.

Ever since your big chop two years ago, you had always just left it out in it’s natural fro and put some products in it and if you were feeling fancy a few decorative hair pins and in the past year now more than ever. Chris loved your new found love for hair pins and little hair jewelry and bought you some. You always wanted to try Bantu knots and trying them out was a big step. Your husband was super excited and helped you out yesterday when it came to the washing, condition and moisturizing. You both were off that day and took advantage of it. You and Chris watched movies and ate some food with Dodger of course, laying at your feet as you sat on the bed and he helped you section the back of your hair.

“You wanna unlock the door?” He asks in a low voice, you could tell he had his lips to the doorknob and you sighed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t say anything” rolling your eyes and you open the door after hearing how concerned he sounded. “I’m not mad at you, OK. I just really had a shitty day and I really liked my hair and I have to redo it and find a different style-” you wiped the little tear that escaped from your eyelid.

“Wait, why?” he asks as you stand in the door frame and he stood in front of you with his hands on your arms, rubbing them up and down trying to comfort you. “Why are you changing your hair?”

“I have to.” You sort of explain taking the towel off your head and grabbing the Shea moisture that stood on the end of the sink. “Go eat, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Chris shook his head at you as you began to part little sections adding some moisturizer. He narrowed his brow and let out a little laugh. “No, stop. Tell me what happened.” You knew how much your husband hated when you beated around the bush. Personally you just didn’t want to bother him with it, but you knew how caring he was and how would jump to help at every opportunity.

Good afternoon,

Ms, Evans, you have been a proud and responsible worker here on on Channel12. Your years of dedication and hard work have showed us nothing that we don’t know. As you may know when you started working for the Channel, you signed a contract that explained the dress code, which included the following, Males must wear a tie and a collared shirt with dress pants. Females must wear a skirt that goes no higher that the knee and a shirt that shows no cleavage. Pantsuits and suits for men and woman are permitted. No untamed hair is allowed while on the air. a warming will be permitted the first offence, the second is a write up, the third is suspension. Any other offences against the dress-code is automatic termination. With that being said, you will receive a write up for the untamed hairstyle that was chosen. Effective immediately it will need to be changed by tomorrow, noon, in order to be on the air. If the hairstyle is failed to be corrected, we will proceed with termination

please enjoy your day,

Carter Rockman

“Chris, stop.” You said reaching for your phone. You saw the look in his eyes and he was livid. “Give it back, before you do something stupid.” You tell him as he holds your phone behind his back. His lips were tucked in as he stared at the ground. “Chris-”

“What the hell is this?” he asks, finally looking up at you. Letting out a sigh, you shake your head. “I’m calling him, matter fact, I’m going up there right now. Grab your purse, we’re going right now-”

“Chris stop.” You shake your head grabbing onto his arm as he went to grab the car keys from the counter. “This is exactly why I didn’t wanna tell you.” You said getting a bit frustrated and then laughing it off. “Don’t go up there-”

“why not!” he said with a frown. “This is unacceptable.” He holds up your phone for emphasis. “You’ve been there for years. They can’t do this! On your ass because of your hair?” He scoffed.

“That’s just the way things are, babe.” You say, holding his face in your hands. The little beard he had going, made you smile down at his lips as you gave them a quick kiss. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll change my hair and get on with it. It’s not that big of a deal.” You said trying to reassure him.

“Absolutely not! I come home to my wife who is upset and crying.” He retorts back shaking his head with a scoff. “You think I’m about to let this fly? Who is this man to tell MY wife that her hair is unprofessional and threatened termination because of it. Fuck that! They wouldn’t tell Viola Davis or Beyoncé or Tyra Banks or-“

“You don’t think I’m pissed too! I am beyond pissed, hell I’m more upset that I allowed it to happen anyway! People who look like me are judged all the time, especially with hair in the work industry. You of all people should know. There is nothing I can do about that. They aren’t going to change their minds because my husband says so. And even if they do, I don’t want them thinking just because my husband is Chris Evans-“

“I wouldn’t hold that against you and they sure as hell- they better not hold that against you.” He says still going off. “Why don’t you wanna fight this? It isn’t fair,babe...” he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“ This isn’t Americas next top model. I’m not a model or an actresses or singer.” You shook your head. “I have to abide by the rules of my industry. If I act out or say ‘No’ or try and go against that, then I becomes the stereotype ‘Angry Black woman’.”

“Be angry! Baby, I don’t care.” Said Chris. “I’ll be there. We’ll be angry together-“

“That’s not the way it works.” You admitted holding onto his hands, giving him a pouty look. “I know theres a way to handle this, but I can’t risk my job.”

“Then quit.” He replied. “I provide way more than enough for us and Dodger.”He nodded over at the dog and you both laugh a little. Then he looks back at you and caresses your face. “You don’t need a job. I want you to be happy. That’s all.”

You brought him for a tight embrace as his arms wrapped around you tightly. You squeezed him and kissed his chest. “I love you.” You whisper as you both rocked back and forth. Pulling away you grin at him. “So, it’s five o’clock. I say we can finish some poetic justice braids in three hours if we start now.”

“I’ll get the comb.” He replied as you head for your room. “And one more thing,” He tells you as you and your turn to look at him. “Your hair is beautiful. No matter what style it’s in.” He grinned

......

The End!

Hope you all enjoyed. Let me know if I should do a part II. Anyway, stay safe and healthy.

Xo- Fridai @allthingzhiddleston

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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Omg I love hands too, can u imagine the reader just out of the blue straddling Loki (who was perfectly minding his own business on the couch reading) & the reader pulls the book from his hands and starts to just feel them. Kiss them. Even nibble them just a little. And our smol bean is just so confused but slowly closes his eyes and just enjoys the sensations. When the reader hears him sigh she looks up and he’s full blushing like ‘oh I actually liked the feeling of that’,real cozy vibe fic

i am aLIVE have this dumb little fluffy piece to tide you over, i have something up my sleeve that i’ll be posting about later but for now...enjoy fawning over loki’s hands

He’s deeply at peace right now, with the most serene softness to his face that you’ve seen in a long time.

Loki’s been needing some peace lately, between hyper kids and an equally hyper brother, plus patients and work and avenging and being a princely diplomat and a husband; yeah, he deserves to curl up with a good book.

But, his hands dare to exist. So graceful. Such long, pale fingers, turning the pages and clutching the cover, you want to hold them, but he’s caressing a book, not you.

What a shame it would be if someone were to interrupt.

You stride over to the couch, pluck the book out of his hands—careful not to lose his spot—and plop yourself down on his lap.

“I was reading that,” Loki halfheartedly protests, half a tired grin creeping over his face—he can’t say this isn’t preferred.

“Read me,” you mutter, already distracted by the hands settling on your thighs. “Give me your hands.”

The god quirks an eyebrow, but does as you say. Always, does as you say, as if he likes it, as if he’s proud to.

You hold his hands like he held the book. Just let them sit in your palms, occasionally running your thumbs along the curve of skin between his thumbs and forefingers.

They’re heavy.

Yet at the same time...perfectly light. At first they float, and Loki is confused, so you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead and his hands fall the rest of the way into yours.

“What’s this about?”

“Appreciation.”

The left hand drops from your grip as you focus on the right, lifting it to eye level and squinting at it.

Holding perfectly still, he watches you trace the undersides of his fingers from the tip to the center of his palm, your touch ghostly and careful, sending a tingling shiver down his spine.

The minuscule jerk of his body under you makes you crack a smile, and you bring his palm to your lips.

“Tickles?”

Loki nods, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Sorry,” you whisper, and place a tiny kiss on each of his fingertips.

“Kids asleep?”

“Mhm.”

He hums right back deep in his throat, his free hand settling in the curve where your thigh meets your hip, his thumb brushing over your skin as you kiss his fingertips.

He’s gone completely limp and looks so difinitively delicious that you can’t help but take the tip of his middle finger between your teeth, watching him through your eyelashes when he cracks an eye open to stare at you.

“Careful—”

Sliding your fingers through his, you cut him off by catching his lips with yours.

That’s when he actually relaxes.

His eyes close and he groans against you, squeezing your hand tight as you stroke your fingers along his knuckles. You’re lifting the weight of a million stars from his chest with one brush of your lips, and you guide his hands to wrap around your neck as you pry your fingers from his so you can slide your palms over his chest, his shoulders, up his neck to lose themselves in his hair.

The smallest whimper leaves his throat.

“Hey,” you whisper, pulling away ever so slightly, forehead still resting against his. “Loki. You okay?”

“Tired,” he replies hoarsely. “So, so tired.”

He hasn’t been sleeping well, you’ve been able to tell, always tossing and turning beside you, trying to hold onto you and see if that will put him to sleep, but most of the time he ends up getting out of bed to go busy himself with anything he can. A book, a small task, writing, you, if you’re awake; any kind of distraction.

You nudge his cheek with your nose, slowly stroking your palm up and down the side of his neck. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. Right now, just fall asleep, I’m right here.”

His forehead drops to your curve of your neck. “Something’s changing,” he murmurs, fingers curling against your back. “It’s waking me. I don’t know what or when or what is has to do with us, but something...something significant is on the horizon.”

Moving slowly from his cheek to just under his eye, you trace your lips along the smooth skin there, placing a soft kiss on his brow. “Something good?”

“Maybe.” He twitches under you and shakily tries to land a kiss to your lips, but he misses and it lands on your chin instead. Breathing a quiet laugh, you take his face in your hands, thumb tracing once over his lips before you guide him into a proper kiss.

“We’ll make it good,” you whisper. “Whatever it is.”

Trailing soft kisses across his cheek and down his neck, you pick his left hand up again, lips moving to the inside of his wrist as he quietly groans.

“What kind of dark magic...”

“Affection, Loki.” A quick kiss to his wedding ring. “It’s called affection.”

He laughs, his fingers curling towards you. “I know. Can I—”

“No.”

You push him back against the couch with a firm kiss to his forehead, not letting go of his hand when he tries to flip the tables on you.

“Unbelievable,” he grunts. His eyes flutter closed and he smiles. “You’re such a pain.”

“Mhm.”

You kiss his wedding ring again, ghosting kisses along his ring finger and down to his palm and back up to twirl his ring around his finger. It’s still one of your favourite things you’ve ever given him—aside from two children, I suppose.

A thin golden serpent wraps itself around his left ring finger, a snake with two tiny emerald eyes, biting it’s tail to bind him as yours.

When you lift your gaze, he’s staring at it.

“You okay, honey?”

He smiles, twists his hand suddenly to grab your wrist and yank you against him, and locks an arm around your neck as you let out a yelp.

“Always,” he whispers, and kisses your giggling lips. “Always, no matter what.”

― ― ― ―

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#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki fluff #loki imagine #loki fanfiction

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lareinenoir · 5 years ago

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MASTERLIST by Lareinnoir

Formally known as Allthingzhiddleston

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Hershey Kiss (*Smut*) Loki x Black Reader

~MONSTER (2018, synopsis)

~PT 1 > Monster; Loki x pregnant reader

~PT 2 > Monster; Loki x pregnant reader

~PT3 > Monster; Loki x pregnant reader

~PT 4 > Monster; Loki x pregnant reader

~YOUR OCEAN EYES (UNFINISHED...) ~PT 1

(BONUS: LOKI HUMOR ~PT 1 , PT 2 , PT 3 )

~BLOOD (synopsis, sneak peek)

~Blood; Loki x Black! Reader

~IT’S ENOUGH (request) ~PT 1, PT 2

~“TAKE A SIP”

~TAKE IT ALL BACK

~APPLE OF MY EYE(request)

~LOVELY TREASURE ~PT 1, PT 2

~SHAME ON ME

~THE UNWANTED MARRIAGE (REQUEST)

~MINE AND MINE (Loki, harry potter, Draco, REQUEST/ synopsis)

~MINE AND MINE (Draco x reader Loki x reader)

~His Wife. Loki X Sigyn (WOC/POC)

[Writing contest]

~PT 1 , PT 2, PT 3

[early writing days 😬 a lil cringy]~Slow Motion

~Apple Pie

THE PURGE; SANCTUARY (Sneek peek)

~PT1, PT2, PT 3, PT 4

~THE KNOTS (Sneek peek)

~PT 1 , PT 2

~BREAKFAST

~Why Tom Licks His Lips

HELLO! I have been the most inactive on Tumblr for a couple months, but I’m working on a comeback. Look out for some new Fics/imagines I have been working on. Missed Everyone and I promise I’m not ghosting anyone :) Thank You All

-@lareinenoir

And for the off chance, you do know me and we have met in person, Hey...this is my secret hobby. I sometimes write dirty fanfiction for my followers and myself. It's fun and I like reading them. So if you're going to make me feel bad....uhhhh well IDK. I guess don't do that. Thanks!

#masterlist allthingzhiddleston #fanfiction #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki fiction #smut #angst #requests are open #resquest #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fluff #avengers #avengers fanfiction #stories #imagines #lareinnoir #lareinnoirmasterlist

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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What would Elliot's first word be and how would Loki react? Btw love your writing❤️

nobody move or you’ll scare the content away

ugh i am so sorry i haven’t been able to write much! thank anyone who stuck around! i’ve been having to focus mostly on my school related writing (plus got a job so woo!) and its definitely not slowing down anytime soon, but here’s a little something i did manage to get out.

i don’t think i’ll ever get over the idea of Loki being a dad

A light that isn’t supposed to be on is on in the kitchen.

Every night, you turn out all of the lights in the house but a dim lamp by Loki’s bedside, so this one is foreign enough to rouse you from your rest and wake you to the point of realizing that your husband is gone.

Grabbing your robe off the floor, you slip it on as you pad down the hallway, stifling a yawn. Not only has your baby on a strange, reversed sleep schedule, but Loki doesn’t seem to need sleep either. This isn’t the first time he’s been up and about in the wee hours of the night.

Maybe another nightmare, maybe just a messed up inner alarm clock…you never know.

Shadows dance across the walls before you even reach the doorway, and Loki speaks in a hushed little baby voice.

“I love you, Elliot! My little blue baby, I love you!”

You pause in the doorway before he can see you.

On the floor with his back to a cupboard, Loki, gloriously jötun and clad in only a pair of loose silk pants, sits crisscross and holds your tiny son in his hands out in front of him.

Elliot is cooing happily and squirming in Loki’s hands, his hands large enough to comfortably take the place of the little baby’s bed, and he brings him closer to place the gentlest kiss on his delicate forehead.

You peek your head in through the doorway for a better look.

Oh. Elliot’s blue, too.

The golden kitchen light softens Loki’s jötun skin to a sky blue and his eyes to almost pink, and if you didn’t already love him, he’d be terrifying. But in your kitchen murmuring to his son how they’re going to help each other and saying I love you like a prayer, he’s a work of art.

Blue and etched with markings, cold and blood-eyed, you know your son will look like him, too, all sharp angles and structure and untouchable as a knife.

Dangerous but beautiful as the winter.

“I love you, Elliot.”

He gurgles in response and kicks a chubby foot in Loki’s face, three of his tiny toes the same blue as his father.

Loki catches the little foot and kisses it, bending his knees to rest the baby against his thighs. “Do you think I’m getting better at this?” he whispers. “We can keep having these little rendezvous, I think they’ve been helping.”

Tugging the robe tighter around you, you fight back another yawn and lean as close through the doorway as you can manage without interrupting.

“I love you,” he repeats, holding Elliot up and running the tip of his finger along the four marks on his left eyebrow, curving softly above his pinkish-red eye. “Don’t worry, I have those ones, too.”

You watch him shift back to his aesir form, Elliot following suit when Loki kisses his chubby cheek—then he shifts back to jötun, resting his forehead against his son’s until the two of them are blue again—or at least, splotched with blue.

There in the dim light, Loki does it again, murmuring how he loves him and switching back and forth between their two forms.

“You are a very pretty colour,” he whispers with a small smile. He sounds like you do whenever he’s in this form, trying to convince him of his beauty. “Your mother thinks so, too. She’s very strange.”

Elliot gazes up at him with those big red eyes and sticks his toes in his mouth.

“That’s very insightful of you, Elliot.”

The baby giggles. “Ah-loo.”

Your heart stops and Loki’s voice dies in his throat.

“What?”

“Ah-loo!”

Loki scrambles to pull himself off the floor, a beaming grin spreading over his blue face. “What, Elliot?”

Your son keeps giggling and still half asleep, you don’t think to run to them before Loki’s running into you in the doorway, crashing into you while Elliot’s first word bubbles from his throat.

“Loki, that’s his first—”

“I was just coming to wake you,” Loki interrupts excitedly, landing a kiss that doesn’t quite follow through to your cheek. “Shh, shh, listen—who’s the cutest bluest baby?”

Held out in front of you in Loki’s hands, Elliot sticks out his tiny tongue and blows a spit bubble. “Ah-loo!”

“Loki,” you laugh, and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him, you can’t think of anything more that needs to be said; right now, Elliot is the only one with something to say, and he does.

“Ah-loo,” he giggles again, more than thrilled to see his mother watching him over Loki’s shoulder at this hour. “Ah-loo.”

Loki’s lips settle into the gentlest smile, gazing down at his son, and he leans his head against yours.

“Well, it’s not dad or ma,” he says and you know he’s still thrilled, “but I’ll take it. Whatever he means by ‘ah-loo.’”

The sound leaves Loki’s mouth and is immediately followed by another little gurgle from Elliot, and the two of them go back and forth a few times, ah-loo-ing each other until you can’t take the cuteness anymore and steal a thorough kiss from each of them.

“I’m so glad we didn’t miss this,” you sigh, following suit as Loki lowers himself back onto the kitchen floor, still crooning over your baby.

“Me either.” Loki sounds starstruck, red eyes glittering and blue skin absolutely freezing when you snuggle up against his chest so you can stare at Elliot, too. “Ah-loo, hm? What is that supposed to mean?”

Tiny hands reach for the both of you and he gives a happy little squeal. “Ah-loo.”

“Maybe he’s saying hello,” you whisper and run a hand over Loki’s chest. “Maybe he’s already developing your accent and says hello like an old British man.”

“An old British man,” he repeats with a frown. “And here I thought you liked my voice.”

Not liking that frown one bit, you dig your fingers into the soft bare skin of his side and Loki squirms, biting back a shout of laughter.

“I love you,” you huff and tickle him once more for good measure, “and every little thing about you. Especially your voice.”

Loki laughs, bops a finger gently on Elliot’s tiny nose, and turns to press a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, too.”

Little chubby arms reach for you again. “Ah-loo!”

The three of you huddle there on the kitchen floor until you get too cold against Loki’s icy skin and convince him to come back to bed—bringing Elliot with you, of course.

Loki eventually shifts back to aesir form and you gratefully cuddle up to his chest, right next to your little son, who has finally stopped squirming and seems to be settling down on Loki’s chest as well for the last few hours of sleep.

“I love you,” Loki murmurs, one hand on Elliot’s back as the other gently traces down your cheek.

You mumble it back and grab his chin to steal a kiss, and Elliot gurgles one last “ah-loo” into Loki’s chest.

You’ve barely started to consider it a kiss when your eyes fly open in shock.

“Ah-loo,” you gasp and break away from Loki with a smack. “I love you.”

“I love you, too?”

“No,” you laugh, and Elliot opens his eyes once more to beam up at you. “He’s saying I love you, Loki.”

Loki falls silent and you think that may have broken him, but then he wraps his arms around the baby and hugs him as tight as he possibly can without hurting the little guy.

“I love you,” he says again, this time hesitating, curious if that’s really it—

“Ah-loo!”

That’s better than any variation of “ma” or “da” that you and Loki could’ve hoped for.

― ― ― ―

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@toozmanykids

#loki x reader #dad!loki #loki imagine #loki reader insert #loki fluff #domestic loki #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #elliot lokason #loki’s happy ending

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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Hi um...... the song thor by push baby....... that is all

oh yes that was a perfect inspo boost, have some sad/jealous boyfriend loki for your weekend !!

It’s raining, and you’re happy.

Cuddled on the window seat in his office, shoes kicked off to nothing but fuzzy socks and a mug of coffee, you gaze out at the courtyard through the thunderstorm.

Loki tried not to let it bother him, but you’re entranced.

Any other day he would be thrilled to see you so content, but this isn’t some rainstorm—it’s a thunderstorm.

You grin with every crack of thunder and every flash of lightning and each one sparks a little deeper into that part of his mind that taunts him plenty.

Just to top things off, Thor crashes through the doorway, a little out of breath and beaming.

“Look to the north,” he nearly shouts, “wait for it, this’ll be the biggest yet—”

“Amazing,” Loki snaps, a sour look painting his features. “None of us have actual work to do, we can ogle over you all day.”

Thunderstorms do make Loki a bit of a sourpuss, you’ve noticed, and after discovering the part that his brother plays in making them, you…kind of get it.

They’re rather loud and imposing things, aren’t they?

The thunder crack is in fact the biggest yet, followed by a bolt of lightning that stays in the sky nearly ten seconds.

You clap and laugh for Thor while Loki sulks, miserable at his desk with nothing grand, nothing jaw-dropping of his own to amuse you.

And when he walks into his office the next day to find you and Thor already in the room, laughing and chattering and happy, he can’t even bring himself to be jealous anymore.

It just hurts.

“My brother,” Thor beams, always so exhaustingly cheery. “Come with us, we discovered a new coffee shop—you know coffee, yes?”

Blindly open-hearted, he doesn’t always catch how his words come across.

“Yeah, I know what coffee is, dimwit.” Loki just shrugs off his coat and waves a hand at the two of you. “I’m busy. Enjoy yourselves.”

“We were waiting for you,” you pipe up, offering him a gentle smile. “Can’t you spare half an hour?”

Half an hour listening to Thor talk about himself, having to walk next to Thor in that excuse of a shirt—it’s ready to rip at the seams, and there’s really no point in wearing it with how see through it is.

He can’t blame you.

Who wouldn’t want to be on that arm?

“No, I have work I should do. Thank you.”

“We’ll bring you back something,” you promise, leaning over the desk to plant a kiss on his cheek.

You’re gone for close to an hour, leaving Loki with tapping fingers and an anxious mind racing with the worst; you’ve gone and done it, run away with his brother, never to be seen again.

Or even worse, you will be seen again, ruling Asgard by Thor’s side.

With cups of coffee in hand.

He drops his head to his desk with a thud and groans.

Minutes later, you peek your head past the doorway to find him still slumped onto his desk, eyes tightly shut and occasionally lifting his head only to bang it back against the wood.

“Chin up, buttercup.” You hurry over before he can bash his head again. “Brought you a little pick me up!”

“Go away,” he moans into the desk. “I’m working.”

“It’s caramel, mocha, and sea salt,” you continue anyways, setting the cup by his head. “You liked the caramel last time, so wait ‘til you try salted caramel.”

“I can’t drink that.”

He pushes it away without bothering to lift his head.

“What–why not?”

“I should be dieting,” he quietly replies. “Losing weight. Trying to tone my physique. Gain muscle, not fat from sugars.”

Combing your fingers into his hair, you gently tug his head up from the desk.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

His eyes only narrow as he looks at you, red and slightly puffy. “How was your date with my brother? Have fun?”

“Yes,” you answer with a frown. “I had fun getting to know my boyfriend’s brother, what’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing at all.” Loki plasters on a phoney smile and sits up, ducking his head away from your hand.

He simply goes back to work, plopping a stack of papers on his desk and burying himself behind them. Only the scratching of his pen breaks the silence, the coffee on his desk untouched and steaming.

Thor thought he’d like it, too—he’d told you of Loki’s affinity for caramel ever since he was a child, how it had even gotten him in trouble a couple times with the cooks.

Apparently he’s not such a big fan anymore.

“Can we at least…get lunch together?” You try a gentle question, head cocked and waiting for him to peek back up at you.

“Can’t.” He doesn’t even look up.

“Oh, okay.” You nod, “want to come over later? We’ve gotta watch Lord of the Rings, if we start tonight we can binge the originals this weekend!”

A large hand flits over his eyes and he sighs quietly to himself. “No, thank you.”

“Okay. What’s your deal?”

He’s a generally sad kind of guy, you know that much, but today, right now, this is different. Not so angry or bitter or jealous, just…sad.

And he doesn’t answer. His pen hovers over the paper, but he’s not actually writing anything—he assumes you won’t notice.

Too caught up in your daydreams with Thor, no doubt.

“Hello…?”

A blur of flesh breaks his train of thought as you wave a hand in his face.

“Don’t ignore me,” you state flatly. Offended. Stating the obvious.

His heart falls.

“I’m…I’m not,” he caves, posture slumping with a slow exhale. Not wanting to meet your gaze, he glares at the case record unsigned on his desk. “Look, just tell me. Don’t try to hide it, you’re only rubbing salt in the wound.”

“Tell you what?”

He sinks lower into the desk chair.

“About your–your feelings.” A wave towards the door. “For Thor.”

It didn’t sound so bad in his head, but now, with the words actually out there…he cringes, suppressing a shudder.

A laugh cuts through the uncomfortable silence.

Your laugh, and he bites back a scowl.

“You’re an absolute idiot,” you giggle, and push off his desk to come stand by his chair. “Really? Me? And Thor?”

“I don’t blame you,” he mumbles, dropping his head to his hands. “He’s…he’s perfect.”

“Nope.” You give the edge of his chair a shove to swivel it towards you and take his face in his hands. “Look at me, Loki.”

Reluctantly, his gaze meets yours.

“I love you. Not Thor. I love you and your body, and your personality, your mind, your voice, your everything.”

“How can you not want Thor?” He asks, voice breaking. “The man’s a tree, I’m–I’m a twig—”

“Hey, hey, I’d much rather pick up a twig than climb a tree!” you assure him with a grin. “Come on, Loki. You know you’re the only one for me.”

He blinks up at you, a hand coming up by his cheek to hold onto your wrist. “I don’t understand how.”

“It’s really easy.” Leaning down, you press your forehead to his and give him a smile. “You’re the strongest man I know, and you’ve suffered more than any being should have to. You crave honest love and you deserve it, so if I play any part in that, I consider myself the lucky one.”

“But Thor—”

A firm kiss on the mouth stops the words in his throat.

“Enough about Thor,” you murmur when you pull away just a smidge. “He’s your brother and whether you’ll admit it or not, he’s important to you. Which means he’s important to me. That’s it.”

The beginnings of a soft smile tug at his lips, and you kiss them again for good measure.

“Thank you.”

It’s soft and barely audible, and you more feel it against your lips than hear it.

But it’s there, and you eventually pull away with a happy sigh.

“Well. That was fun.” You pat his flushed cheek and grab the probably cold coffee off his desk, holding it out to him. “Drink it. You could use a few extra pounds, anyways.”

He quirks an eyebrow at you but takes the drink, taking a hesitant sip—

“Oh, norns.”

“Good?”

He gives his head a little shake, licking his lips. “That’s sweet. And strong.”

“I know,” you laugh, stealing the cup back and taking a quick swig. “It’ll keep you up for our Lord of the Rings marathon, trickster.”

His eyes narrow playfully. “Mhm…and here I thought you simply cared for me.”

“What??” You blow him a kiss and a wink. “Then you’re an idiot, love.”

You don’t call Thor an idiot, and he doesn’t think you ever have.

Watching you flounce our the door, leaving him with his coffee and newly-lifted spirits, Loki grins to himself as he goes back to his papers.

Yes, Thor is an idiot. Everyone knows that much.

But Loki gets to be your idiot, and that is something special.

― ― ― ―

fuel the writer?

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

~ breaking up the taglist to fix the scrolling problem! ~

~ scroll here ~

@mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys

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#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #jealous!loki #loki fluff

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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HIIIII!!!!! After reading where Loki sings and then with Baby No. 2 on the way 😍😍😍😍😍 can I request a drabble or something where Loki and the pregnant reader are lying in bed and Loki is singing to the unborn baby? Love you! Keep up the awesome work!!!

this was supposed to be 200 words. well over 1000 words later, have a drabble:

inspired by some requests for “your bed after travelling” from the sensory prompts list! psiwrotethesonglokisingsihopeyoulikeitikindado

— — — —

The blister on your heel has to be bleeding by now.

Your back, too, screams for relief—carrying the extra weight of a half-frost giant baby pulls at your bones, joints, muscles.

You try not to let it show, but the last flight of stairs to the street brings a pained whimper from your throat.

Loki pulls you into his arms before you even have to ask.

The trip was a nice distraction for a little bit, but with Loki off most of the day busy with meetings and negotiations, you’d been left trying to vacation with a hyper five year old and a very, very pregnant body that didn’t quite want to leave the pantry.

Watermelon, this time. And this damn hotel in the middle of this godforsaken metropolis only gave you instructions to the nearest grocery store.

Loki would simply pull a freshly cut watermelon out of thin air for you. Loki would go and get you anything you could ever wish for, draw you a bath, rub your back, and read Elliot a book to give you some peace and quiet.

Loki carries you to the cab—per your own request, since teleportation does nothing to help morning sickness—and he holds you close the whole drive home. One arm tucks you snug into his side while the other tries to keep Elliot in his seat, who’s far too excited at the prospect of not having to be in a booster seat for this car ride.

“Are we there yet?”

“We’ve been driving for four minutes, Elliot. Please.”

What feels like an eternity passes, and this time you have to ask.

“Are we there now?”

“Not you, too,” Loki groans, his head lolling back onto the headrest. “See, if I could just move us—”

“Nonono, don’t turn this on me!”

“I’m not turning this—”

“I GOTTA PEE!”

It takes a few more stops and a couple more minutes than planned, but before long you find yourself home, head throbbing and knees stiff and ankles screaming bloody murder.

Facing another flight of stairs.

(Only four, but who’s counting.)

Elliot joins you in your breakdown this time.

“Come here,” Loki sighs, sending the suitcases to inside with a flick of his fingers. He tucks an arm under your knees and one around your back, lifting you from the ground before you can blink the tears from your eyes.

“My hero,” you sniff, and throw your arms around his neck.

This baby will be a drama queen, you just know.

Before Loki can carry you inside, Elliot hauls himself off the ground with a sniffle, his little plush hedgehog tucked snugly under one arm.

“Me, too, daddy. Please?”

He lifts his arms—and hedgehog—up to reach for you.

Big green eyes blinking up at him, Loki can’t bring the word “no” to the tip of his tongue.

Instead he finds himself sighing, kneeling down with a tight hold on you to let Elliot clamber onto his back.

“Forgot how to walk, hm?” He asks his son with a smile, carefully climbing those unbearable four steps and letting Elliot back down.

The little boy shakes his head. “It’s called simple-thee pain. If momma hurts, we all hurt.”

“…right.”

You muffle your laughter in Loki’s shoulder.

“Go unpack your bags,” Loki tells him, nudging him towards his bedroom. “We’ll all hurt together in a minute.”

Elliot runs off to his room, leaving Loki to carry you to your own room; he steals a quick kiss before setting you softly on the bedspread.

The moment you touch down on that mattress, a blissful sigh leaves your lips.

Good kiss. Nice call.

Loki gives himself a mental pat on the back.

“Loki. Unpack later, c’mere.”

He looks up from the suitcase to find you sprawled, a hand draped over your giant belly. Toes scrabble against your heels as you try to kick your shoes off, flinging them across the room when you do.

“Comfortable?”

“Euphoric,” you groan, and give your ankles a few relieving circles.

“Here.” A soft smile on his lips, he lays a hand on your bump of a stomach, seamlessly changing you into your sweats.

You nearly curse aloud, grabbing your pillow and smushing it to your face.

“You spoil me.”

Loki just breathes a laugh, settles onto the foot of the mattress, and sets to work loosening up the tense muscles of your legs.

“My favourite pastime,” he murmurs, fingers working magic while you breathe in your home.

Loki. Elliot. You. The sheets are softer than you remember, and you’d give anything to be able to roll onto your stomach and bury your face in your pillow until you drift off.

But with this beach ball of a stomach, you settle for sprawling on your back, sinking into the mattress until it remembers your shape and the cotton candy clouds you get to sleep on swallow you whole.

“I’m never leaving this bed ever again.”

Loki hums quietly, mildly amused.

“Cuddle with me?” You ask, lifting your head to try and see him—only to be blocked by your belly.

“Of course.”

He takes a moment to change into something more comfortable—those softer-then-silk trousers are your favourite—and stretches out on the mattress beside you with a sigh.

There’s a pause—he shifts, searching for that perfect position—and groans in satisfaction.

Sinking into liquid gold.

“Nothing will ever understand me like my bed does,” he breathes, eyelids fluttering shut.

Long legs slip under the covers, sliding too smoothly against the perfectly cool sheets, and he lets out another sigh, warm and cool and safe and free by your side—

“Cuddle.”

You tap him on the chest, eyelids already drooping, breaking the enchantment long enough to bring you into this dream.

“Oh, absolutely.”

He scoots closer to your side, wrapping his arms around you to rest one on your belly, his head nestled into the curve of your neck.

A moment passes in perfect silence, his thumb brushing over the curve of your stomach every few seconds.

“Could you sing for us?” You whisper, breaking through the quiet. “Last time you did, she kicked.”

Half a grin tugs at the corner of Loki’s mouth. “Of course. Anything in particular?”

“Something…you.”

“Great. Okay.”

It’s quiet for a moment longer while he thinks.

Then…

“Round the borders and under the bridge, the frost-king tries to flee…around the throne he runs and hides, only stopped by a winter breeze.”

Entranced, you listen, his voice clear and crisp and quiet in your little bedroom as it dips and soars.

“‘I see you,’ said the breeze, so the frost king had to freeze. From his hand the ice broke the throne and the frost-king tries to flee. Round the forests he runs, only stopped by a winter breeze.”

There’s the kick.

Loki’s voice clips at the tiny movement, but he sings quietly on, trying to coax another from the unborn baby.

“‘What have you to fear?’ Asked the breeze, for the frost-king trembled with the leaves.” He sings softly, hand flat next to yours waiting for the little fist or foot to hit. “‘Only I, only I,’ he cried wistfully. Oh, the breeze followed when he ran, angered by his bitter flight.”

Loki’s voice slows, and you run your fingers through his hair, unable to break the spell he’s cast across the room.

He takes a slow breath, lays his head on your stomach.

“For what is a breeze but a storm-king, whose mother wrapped him tight for the night.”

Huddled in the doorway, Elliot listens.

The baby kicks again and you both share a quiet laugh; at that, Elliot runs into the room, wriggling his way between the two of you.

“I wanna say hi,” he whispers, laying his little hand next to Loki’s. “Can I cuddle with you, too?”

The baby kicks right away, bringing a giggle to Elliot’s lips. “Hi, baby.”

Loki wraps him tight in a hug, scooting closer to your side so the three of you can huddle together, warm and cold all at once and really, really happy to be home.

“I missed this bed,” your little boy sighs happily, nuzzling into your embrace.

“What about your bed, little giant?”

“Meh. It’s alright. Yours just…ahh…it soothes my soul.”

You snort and Loki bites back a laugh, instead pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head.

“Don’t let us interrupt.”

― ― ― ―

fuel the writer?

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

~ lmk if breaking up the taglist helps with that scrolling problem! ~

~ scroll here if necessary~

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki requests #dad!loki #loki x pregnant!reader #domestic!loki #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson #loki series #elliot lokason

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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What was the proposal with Loki like? Did he propose? Also what was their wedding like? xxxx

The first time Loki proposed to you, Jim and Pam were getting married.

You thought he wasn’t watching, really, with the soft, slow breaths ghosting over the top of your head, the arm fallen limp around your chest—you’d assumed he fell asleep.

But Jim and Pam run off to Niagara Falls to get married, and Loki breathes a quiet chuckle into your hair. The hand splayed over your stomach taps you softly.

“Tha’s cute.”

He’s mumbling, more than half asleep and words slurring, eyes lidded, but he gives you a sleepy smile and lifts a finger towards the laptop sitting on your thighs.

“We should do that.”

“Get married on a boat?” You whisper, glancing up to look at him.

“Rivers in the lower regions of Asgard are the most beautiful I’ve seen,” he murmurs, head dropping to rest against the top of your head. “We could actually sail off into the sunset.”

You pause. Is this a proposal?

You wouldn’t put it past him, to propose in a rather…unconventional way, but you’d thought he was biding his time because he was planning something a bit more personal and thought out.

Not just a half asleep, backhanded mention.

But still, it’s endearing. You never know what to expect with Loki.

“Sure.” You twist around in his arms, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his jaw. “When?”

His eyes are closed again.

“Tomorrow.”

“Yikes,” you laugh, patting his thigh as you settle back against him. “Let’s at least get engaged first.”

It’s quiet for a moment and you’re fairly certain Loki fell asleep again. This must’ve just been mostly sleep talking.

“Aren’t we?”

“Huh?”

Loki breathes deeply, eyes still closed. “Aren’t we engaged?”

“No, genius.” You grin and lightly poke your elbow back into his gut. “I’m still waiting.”

Silence. Then,

“Fuck.”

He opens his eyes and sighs loudly, right in your ear. “Then that was all a dream, wasn’t it.”

Heart twisting, you pause the show and turn around with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You were dreaming about me, sunshine?”

“Always,” he mumbles, shifting down on the couch cushion to lay better. “But that was a nightmare. Asking you to be mine. Terrifying.”

Your fingers find his hair, slowly rubbing the back of his neck. “Did I say yes?”

“Mm.” His eyes close again. “Can’t recall.”

“One of these days you should ask me for real,” you quietly tell him, biting back a smile when his eyebrow quirks over closed eyes. “Just to see what happens.”

He’s almost asleep again, but he cracks one tired eye open to look at you.

“Would you marry me?”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach—you didn’t think he’d actually ask.

The answer is yes, of course, yes, but your throat goes dry at the sheer suddenness of such a life altering question, the fact that Loki’s literally half asleep not exactly helping the case.

“Never mind,” he whispers, closing his eyes again and letting out a slow breath.

Your fingers still in his hair and you shake yourself out of a daze, swallowing thickly.

“Yeah.”

One corner of his lips quirks upwards. “Really?”

“Yes,” you giggle, tugging gently on his hair, but he still doesn’t open his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll marry you. We’ve already discussed this, doofus.”

“Wonderful.” He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck with a quiet chuckle. “Thank you.”

A few minutes pass, and Loki’s asleep.

…that was it?

Okay, you shouldn’t be disappointed, and really, you’re not, but you can’t say you’re not surprised.

With how much he likes to talk about “when we’re married” and “once you’re my wife,” you’d expected maybe just a little more than a sleepy “marry me?” in the middle of watching The Office.

Oh well. It’s cute, and very unlike him, and it did the job—

“You truly think so little of me?”

Long fingers dig into your sides and you shriek, jolting off of Loki with a start. “HEY!!”

Laughing, he laces his hands together behind his head, lounging there with ankles crossed and hair splayed and an infuriatingly smug grin on his face. You backhand his chest, pulling yourself off the floor.

“Tell me you didn’t think I just proposed to you.” He raises an eyebrow.

“You did,” you huff, climbing back onto the couch with him. “That’s why I said yes, dipshit.”

“No, I asked you if you would marry me. Not if you will.”

“You’re joking, right?”

He shakes his head, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth with a grin for a split second as you stare at him, dumbfounded.

“I changed my mind,” you groan, grabbing a pillow off the couch and smothering his laughter with it. “I won’t marry you ever in a million years, Loki, not after that.”

”I’ll wait,” he laughs, voice muffled under the pillow. “A million and one years until you’re mine, then.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

feel free to send me ideas!!

if you enjoyed…what if i linked my venmo…haha no i jest…no obligations….just in case….u don’t have to ha ha…….unless… ??

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#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki requests #loki x reader fluff #boyfriend!loki #loki proposal #loki laufeyson #loki series

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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I'm painting my house! BEGONE UGLY YELLOW!!! What about some family fluff painting day?

ok this is definitely not what you were talking about BUT it’s still painting s o o o

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Uh oh!”

“Shh. They’ll wake up if you’re not quiet.”

Something brushes lightly across your bare back, tickling softly between your shoulder blades.

You’d love to guess Loki’s hand, but he’s fast asleep beside you, hand resting just under your chin—he must’ve had a hand on your cheek when you fell asleep.

“Uh oh.”

“Stop sayin’ that, Blueberry, it’s fine. They’re gonna love it!”

“…uh oh.”

The third little “uh oh” rouses you from your rest, the blurry bedroom slowly coming into focus as you blink.

As expected, your kids are visiting this lovely early morning—Elliot sprawled across Loki’s legs, little Frigg sitting calmly between the two of you.

“Wha’s goin’on?” You mumble, keenly aware of the fact that you’re a bit…bare, and probably shouldn’t roll over until you’re able to get the blankets back.

Elliot just gives you a sheepish grin, whipping his hands behind his back to hide. “Nothin’.”

“I don’t believe you,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes. “Frigg, honey, what’re you doing back there?”

“Uh oh,” she whispers.

That’s comforting.

“Is that—is that a paintbrush??”

Elliot’s face falls. “It’s washable! It’ll come right off!”

“Elliot!” You’d sit up, or at least roll over, but Frigg takes the wet paintbrush to your back again and you realise that might not be the best option, considering you apparently have a work of art smeared across your back. “What on earth made you think this was a good idea??”

He gives you another sheepish grin, twirling his paintbrush between his fingers. “Um…I just, um…Frigg told me to do it.”

“Uh oh.”

“Frigg told you,” you repeat, trying to give him your best glare over your shoulder. “Frigg, the baby. She told you to come paint your parents?”

His bright eyes flit away from yours.

“…yup.”

“You know she only knows about four words, right?”

“Yup. She’s a real smart baby.”

You bury your face back in your pillow with a quiet groan. “Elliot, don’t lie to me.”

It only takes about two seconds before he cracks.

The tears come first, lip wobbling as his eyes brim with tears, and he flops off of Loki’s thighs to bury his face in the blankets, muffled sobs echoing through the room.

“I’m sorry,” he cries, “I just—I just wanna draw, and-and I wanted t’ do somethin’ with Frigg, and you’re just layin’ here—”

“Elliot,” you whisper, reaching back to rub a hand over his back. “Elliot. It’s okay, sweetheart. Look at me.”

He lifts his head, eyes red and sniffling. “I’m sorry, mommy.”

“I forgive you,” you quietly assure him with a gentle smile. “You just can’t lie to me like that. And you definitely can’t blame your sister for things that you do, you understand?”

“I understand.” He nods furiously, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Really, I do, I understand.”

“We’re all good, then.” Grabbing your pillow, you clutch it close and prop yourself up on your elbows to smile at him. “Now show me this piece of art you’re making. Dad’s back makes for a good canvas, doesn’t it?”

“Dah,” Frigg agrees.

Paintbrush abandoned, she’s apparently decided to switch to finger-painting your back, tiny fingers smearing across your shoulder blades.

Elliot nods, picking his paintbrush back up. “Well, I-I took all the bumps and made ‘em into stars. Kinda looks like space, doesn’t it?”

You scoot your way closer, studying the paint drying on Loki’s bare back—he might just be pretending to sleep, at this point, you wouldn’t put it past him.

All the bumps, Elliot said.

The bumps, apparently meaning the scars.

Each scar, each freckle on Loki’s back has been painted a dark blue, contrasting against his pale skin rather beautifully, actually. With his paleness and the painted scars and the darkened freckles, an expanse of constellations stretches across your husband’s back—you can’t believe you never noticed.

“That’s beautiful,” you tell your son in a hushed voice. “Geez, Elliot, you’ve got a good eye for hidden art.”

“Thank you!” A bright smile spreads over his face. “If he turned blue, then it’d really look like space, but I’m just gonna imagine it.”

That really would, completing the masterpiece perfectly; you’ve half a mind to run and get an ice cube, make him turn blue in his sleep just to finish off the painting, but at that moment, Loki squirms.

“Mmmf.”

“Dah!” Frigg gives your back one last swipe with green-painted hands, then clambers over the mattress to Loki. “Dah, dah!”

His eyes flutter open and her little hands go straight to his cheek.

“Dah,” she coos, a gummy grin on her tiny lips.

“Morning, Frigg,” he laughs. “I hope that’s only paint on your hands.”

The little handprint she leaves on his cheek brings a laugh to your lips, and Loki reaches up to grab her chubby hand and plant a kiss on her knuckles.

“What brought about this cozy art session?” He yawns, huffing a disobedient lock of hair out of his face. “To be conducted in the nude, nonetheless?”

“Watch it,” you laugh and smack him lightly on the arm. “Elliot and Frigg wanted to paint, and somehow we ended up as the canvases.” You point at your back, laying back down on your stomach with a grin. “What do you think? Frigg painted this.”

“Me!” She bounces a little as she laughs, waving her green hands in the air.

Pushing himself up on his arms, he lightly pinches her cheek. “You, sweetheart? It’s absolutely beautiful, a masterpiece if I’ve ever seen one.”

He leans over to press a firm kiss to your cheek as you lay there, head turned to him and a conundrum of colours smeared around your back, unable to stop the smile that spreads over your face.

You turn your head just a bit, catching his lips in a deeper kiss before he can move away.

“I think you had the perfect canvas, Frigg.” Loki sighs happily when you break away. “Just look at your mother. A work of art even before the paint.”

“That’s enough, silvertongue.” You shake your head at him with a laugh. “Elliot, you should tell dad what you painted.”

“I painted the sky,” Elliot answers excitedly. “It’s space, and I drew some stars and I made all your bumps into stars, and they made a constellation!”

“All my bumps?”

“One sec. Can you turn blue real quick, Loki?” You reach over for your phone, focusing the camera on his scarred back as it shifts to that beautiful blue. “Look at what he saw.”

Scooting closer to him, you bump your arm into his and show him the photo.

“It’s even better when you’re blue like this,” Elliot pipes up, taking the brush back to Loki’s skin, touching up on the little body painting.

Loki just blinks a couple times, still staring at the photo.

A bit of hair falls in front of his face and you quickly push it behind his blue ear, a bit of anxiousness starting to prick at your heart—how’s he going to take this?

“I think it’s beautiful,” you offer, and dart forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “We’ve got two little artists on our hands.”

“Wha’d’ya think, daddy?”

“You’re going to make me cry.”

He buries his face in his pillow, and you and Elliot can’t help but laugh.

“I’m not joking,” he laughs, voice muffled, “you can’t go around saying things like that, you can’t be that soft with me.”

“Yeah, I can!” Elliot argues with a grin. “I love you, so hah!”

Frigg lets out a string of garbled giggles in agreement, bright eyes jumping from each of your smiles to the next.

Head still shoved in the pillow, Loki lets out an anguished groan. “You three. You end me. You ruin me.”

“Guilty as charged,” you hum with a smile. Taking his hand in yours, you lay back down beside him and plant a kiss on the tip of his blue nose. “Are you two done back there or is this how the entire morning is going to be spent?”

“Don’t move,” Elliot orders, climbing back onto Loki’s thighs. “I’m gonna draw the moon. Pass me the white paint, Blueberry?”

Loki grins at the little gurgle from the other end of the bed.

“Fine, I’ll get it,” your son huffs, and a hand lands heavily on the back of your leg as he reaches over the two of you for the open tub of paint. “I can’t—reach—oop.”

Something warm spreads over your thigh.

In the sudden silence of the cozy little room, Frigg speaks volumes.

“Uh oh.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

feel free to send me ideas!!

if you enjoyed…what if i linked my venmo…haha no i jest…no obligations….just in case….u don’t have to ha ha…….unless… ??

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki requests #dad!loki #domestic!loki #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson #loki series #elliot lokason #frigg lokadóttir

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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forgive me for the most cliche request ever but i am a SUCKER for the pre-dating “oh no we have to stay in a hotel or something but there’s only one bed” troupe, so anything even sort of like that would be adorable 🥺🥺

okay but hear me out on this one...how about....there was only oNE CHAIR

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When you said you like older men, this is not what you were talking about.

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, his hands are moving, sliding to wrap around your waist and you gulp, trying not to wiggle.

“Sorry,” Loki whispers, barely audible as he shifts under you. “It’s not you, just my leg...”

“Move your hands or lose ‘em,” you hiss right back, shoving his wandering hands away from your midsection.

“I can’t help it, you’re slipping—stop moving.”

New hires at Stark Industries have this one meeting/seminar thing they have to attend, and your’s somehow turned into this painfully awkward, awkwardly tense little lap-sitting convention. As most meetings do, right?

Just another day at the office...

...pretending not to notice that you’re sitting on the lap of a world criminal in disguise, his arm around your waist, both of you pretending to listen to Tony Stark stress the importance of reporting threats in the workplace.

“I should’ve reported you from day one,” you murmur in his ear, twisting around in his grip to lean into him. “You’re hitting all the marks. Safety threat, verbal and psychological harassment, threats on life, unregistered weapons...I’m adding sexual harassment to your folder now, too.”

He pinches your side with a frown, drawing a tiny squeak from you. “I didn’t ask for this, and I’m certainly not enjoying it. Now stop wiggling, you’re making this extremely uncomfortable for the both of us.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Tony whistles, waving a hand towards you as you twist back around and lean against Loki—sorry, Dr. Laing. “You’re adorable, I love the camaraderie we’re bringing into the company, but just hold back for a couple more minutes. Please.”

A hole in the ground to crawl into and die sounds absolutely lovely, right about now.

“Sure thing, boss.”

Laing grins and gives him a thumbs up, his other hand curled tight around your waist; you just nod, absolutely, irrevocably mortified.

As soon as the attention is off of the two of you, you grab Loki’s hand and pry it off your waist, digging your elbow into his ribs as hard as you can.

“Ferocious little beast,” he laughs quietly, bouncing his thigh twice to try to slide you back on balance on his lap—you try not to fume audibly, since this is your boyfriend, after all. “This’ll be over soon, just play along.”

His knee bounces again when you start to protest, jolting your body to the side and—

“Norns above.”

You flailed. He was trying to knock you off balance, trying to make a fool of you, but instead of falling off his lap, your hands scrabble for the closest thing you can hold onto—one landing firmly between his legs as you slip to straddle his thigh.

...getting a nice handful of something and ripping a wheezed curse from Loki’s throat.

You freeze.

I mean, what else could you do?? When there’s a firm thigh between your legs, a rather large hand clutching your waist to keep you upright, and you have to pretend like you didn’t just grab his dick for support, one’s brain has the tendency to completely short-circuit.

Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around.

You swallow thickly, already cringing as Loki shifts under you, awkwardly giving a quiet cough in your ear.

“You can let go now,” he whispers hoarsely, tapping your wrist.

Oh god.

Freezing even meant your hand.

Snapping your hand away as if you’ve been burned, you swing your leg around so at least you’re not straddling him anymore, focusing your horrified face back on the presentation.

Now he’s wiggling.

You try to lean forward on the table to at least get your weight off of him, but Loki just shifts uncomfortably in his seat and fumbles with his lab coat, tugging it shut over his front.

Don’t. Look.

His hand settles on your waist again, gently guiding you back against him. “Don’t make a scene,” he murmurs in your ear, glancing around the full conference table. “Sit.”

“I’m so sorry—”

“Quiet.”

He pointedly pushes you to one side of his lap.

An awful, painfully awkward moment passes perched on Loki’s—Laing’s—left thigh, trying to keep your hands to yourself, until Loki wraps an arm around you to pull you back against him.

His lips ghost over the edge of your ear, the shiver that wracks your body completely involuntary.

“Shouldn’t I report you for that?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

feel free to send me ideas!!

if you enjoyed...what if i linked my venmo...haha no i jest...no obligations....just in case....u don’t have to ha ha.......unless... ??

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki enemies to lovers #loki fake dating #loki slowburn #loki reader insert #pre-dating idiots

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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Hey, how are you? I just wanted to say that I have the image in my head that Teenage Elliot and Peter sit together and talk about their superpowers. Do you think they would be friends because both can't talk openly about their powers and I have the feeling that connects both of them.

let’s kick this off with some elliot and spiderman stuff, that’s something new!

― ― ― ―

Hotdog in hand, Elliot kicks his dangling feet, the laces on his sneakers fluttering in the wind.

“Hey, uh, Peter?”

“What’s up?”

“You ever wish you didn’t get bit by that spider?”

Spider-Man takes another bite of his chili dog.

If anyone had told him that someday he’d be sitting atop a New York building, eating hot dogs and answering existential questions from a ten year old…he’d have assumed someone slipped him a pot brownie.

But here we are.

He chews slowly, thinking.

“Yeah, sometimes. Yeah. I used to, a lot.” A bit of chili drips onto the red and blue uniform. “But you know what? Sometimes I think about if someone else had gotten bit. Woken up with my, um, superpowers.”

“That probably would’ve been bad,” Elliot remarks, watching a couple on the sidewalk below struggling to walk their stubborn dog.

“Uh-huh. These abilities could’ve fallen into anyone else’s hands, and who knows what they would’ve chosen to do with them. So I’m glad that I get to know the choices that they…I made.”

Elliot nods and flicks a leaf off the roof.

Peter’s a good friend. He likes hanging out with him.

He feels like they’re on the same page, the way he talks to him. Always honest, safe, like he can tell him anything.

So he does.

“I wish I was normal.”

“What?!”

The demigod winces, avoiding looking Peter in the eye. “I, um, I wish I didn’t turn blue. I wish I could just eat ice cream like a normal person, go out in the cold like normal.”

“But you’re so cool!” He scoots closer, offering the young boy a small smile. “I’d trade you in a heartbeat. Blue’s my favorite color, and to be cold-resistant and magic?? Hell, you’re the neatest superhero I know.”

Elliot laughs, feet kicking at the wall as he sighs and glances at his knees. “But I’m not super. I’m just me. My dad’s super, and you’re super, and all my aunts and uncles are super, but I feel like I’m the mutant who’s gotta hide what I can do.”

“You’re not a mutant,” Peter assures him with a chuckle. “And yeah, secret identities suck, but you don’t necessarily have to keep yours a secret! I have to because I have enemies. You’ve still got a clean slate—right??”

At that, Elliot laughs, and a wave of relief washes over Peter at the comforting sound.

Elliot’s a complex little guy, he’s discovering.

He’s just happy the little blue demigod trusts him enough to talk to him.

“Yeah, I’m clean, so far.” Elliot’s laugh fades out with another sigh. “I just don’t know.”

Spider-Man wraps an arm around him, tugging him close into his side with a comforting squeeze.

“You don’t have to know.”

A passenger plane blinks through the clouds a while away, and the two of them watch it glide in the silence of the city below.

Elliot decides he feels a little better, being able to get some of that off his chest.

He can tell Peter’s worrying, though, worrying he said something wrong or handled the situation wrong…

“Thanks, Pete.”

Another squeeze on the arm.

“Anytime, kiddo.”

Elliot chews his lip for a moment, not wanting to have to get down quite yet.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s it like havin’ a girlfriend?”

― ― ― ―

fuel the writer?

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

tags under the cut ~

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #peter parker fanfiction #dad!loki #elliot lokason #loki fluff

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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I NEED A PRE DATING IDIOTS PART 2! OMG! IT'S SO! URGH! PLEASE IF YOU CAN!!??

here’s just a little bit more…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You didn’t mean to slam the door, the intent was to “violently shut it,” but either way, Loki flinches.

Or…Robert. Or something.

“You could’ve poofed yourself out of the office,” you hiss, taking as menacing of a step as you can towards the god. “You could’ve turned invisible, I bet. You could’ve just said that you are a new hire.”

His adam’s apple bobs.

Ohoho, are you making him nervous?

“Instead you told her we’re dating.” Up comes your finger, jabbing into his leather-bound chest. “You absolute dick, I—what the hell were you thinking??”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you’re ranting again before he can get more than a halfhearted “but—” out.

“I don’t—I don’t know what to do now!” You laugh, a damn near psychotic sound, Loki notes. “Oh, my day was great, now I’m just apparently dating a nonexistent doctor who in reality happens to be the most dangerous thing on our planet—”

“Am I really?”

“—and you told my boss! Seriously, I wouldn’t be so pissed if you’d just pretended to be some doctor, but noooo, you had go all the way with the whole ‘guess what we do in the nighttime’ charade—”

“I had to sell it—”

“And I—I have to make smalltalk with these people! Guess what they’re going to ask? ‘How’s Robert? How are you and that cute doctor doing?’ And—”

“…you thought I was cute?”

Your jaw falls slack, staring at the stupid excuse of a god in front of you.

“You are un-fucking-believable.”

See, it wasn’t so bad at first.

When he let that “I’m her’s, she’s mine” bomb drop, yeah, you were pissed and desperately wanted to blow his cover, but he…held your tongue.

Like, held it.

You had opened your mouth to of course, announce to agent Hill that “hey, remember that psycho god you picked up the other day? Yeah, you just shook his hand,” but you couldn’t lift your tongue.

What felt exactly like two fingers, the pad of a thumb and a forefinger, were literally holding your tongue.

Both his hands were behind his back, but after the snowball out of thin air and the extensive use of clones, you’re not sure where his cool little abilities might end.

It got worse, with Hill finding “Robert” to be a fairly charismatic man and asking how long you’ve been dating.

“Two years, a week from today.”

You’d jerked yourself away from him, but he held you tight and to your dismay, your cheeks were being tugged into a completely involuntary smile.

“You two seem very happy together,” Hill had commented, buying right in to the illusion. “She’s a real catch, Doctor. I’ve seen her work, she’s good at what she does.”

A quiet “oh, thank you,” came out of your mouth before you could fight it back.

“You can be damn sure of that,” Loki—Robert—chuckled. “I’d say she wears the pants of the relationship, but the majority of our time is spent with neither of us in pants, so that doesn’t seem very appropriate.”

You gave screaming a try, only to twitch against Loki’s side and not make a sound other than a flustered giggle that is so not like you, and Hill rolled her eyes.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” she laughed, waving a hand at the two of you. “Word of advice, don’t do anything in here. Tony’s a stickler, and I’m ninety percent sure Jarvis is programmed to interrupt at the, erm, worst times.”

Loki laughed as she winked and walked away, and to your dismay you laughed, too, screaming on the inside.

The last thing Loki was allowed to say before switching back to his Loki form and releasing his hold on your tongue was “well, that didn’t seem very suitable for work.”

And now he’s getting all caught up and blushy over the fact that you called him cute.

“You’re not allowed to talk yet,” you seethe, shoving him in the chest. “That was so fucked up, you held my tongue a-and made me say things, made me laugh at your j—”

“You were extremely easy to control, actually.” His lips tilt, almost smug and you want to slap him. “I was pleasantly surprised.”

“Hope it was worth it,” you spit, grabbing your desk phone and angrily punching in numbers. “I’m reporting you.”

Loki blinks and swallows thickly.

Watching him carefully, you scan his face for any sign of anything as the line rings; you’d expected at least some kind of reaction.

“Human Resources, how can I help you?”

“I need to file a harassment complaint,” you reply, glare holding steady with Loki’s. “And a potential security threat.”

His gaze flits from the phone to your eyes and back—okay, he’s starting to look a little bit nervous. Good.

“First of all, there’s a prisoner out of his cell—”

Loki grabs the phone out of your hand, crushes it in his fist like a piece of paper, and hurls it across the room.

You stare at him, mouth stuck mid-word.

He stares back.

Eyes wide, chest lifting a little faster than normal with every breath.

“Sorry.”

You take a deep breath.

“GETOUTOFMYOFFICERIGHTNOWISWEARTOGODI’LLTELLTHOR—”

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT,” he shouts, not backing away from you screaming in his face. “I had to think on my feet, you think I don’t know I’m not welcome here?”

“Then why was your first instinct to tell my boss we’re dating?!”

“It was the first thing that popped into my head!!”

“I don’t even want to know why that was the first thing you thought of,” you retch, realising you’re pointing a pen in his face—you must’ve grabbed it while you were yelling. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you did that.”

Loki falls silent and a moment passes, you catching your breath and him trying not to cower, his hands still raised to your angered pen.

“…i-is it really that bad?”

At that, you lob the pen at him, watching it bounce off his chest with a satisfying thoink.

“Well, I’m pretty sure my boss now believes I invite my boyfriend into work with me for an afternoon fuck, so yeah, it’s that bad.”

“Look,” he sighs, resisting the urge to argue that maybe it’s not the worst thing to happen. “If It’s of any consolation, at least you’re not dating me. Doctor Robert Laing seems like a wonderful man, give him a chance.”

“Hilarious,” you groan, sinking into your chair and dropping your head to your hands. “There’s just this one quality about him I just can’t get over…oh, yeah.”

You lift your head just for the sake of glaring.

“He’s you.”

“Now you’re just being mean, darling.”

“Don’t call me that!!”

A flash of light washes over him and he’s Dr. Laing again, leaning on the edge of your desk and smirking down at you.

“Can I call you darling?”

“No,” you hiss, pointing at the door. “You’re still you. Now get the fuck out of here before I track down Thor.”

“I wonder if they would hire me,” he hums, ignoring you completely and lowering himself into the chair in front of your desk. “That would be rather mischievous of me, wouldn’t it?”

“Don’t. you. dare.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki slowburn #loki fake dating #loki enemies to lovers #loki x reader fluff #pre-dating idiots #loki requests #loki tension #loki fanfiction #loki drabbles #loki laufeyson #loki fluff

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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All I can think is “ vending machine “ idk why?? Maybe you can do something with that??

lmao i don’t think many people like this pre-dating idiots kick i’m on but look i’m just proud of myself for actually managing to create a plot and i rly love this so oops have some more t e n s i o n

also i’ll answer asks asap so sorry it’s taking me a while!!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thirteenth floor. Break room down hall H. Use code 1217. Now.

Who is this?

Your lover.

Right. Your lover, the not-yet-released psycho who’s pretending to be a doctor in the same facility where you work, and now apparently has a phone.

And your number.

Great.

We’re not dating, you type back. I’m busy.

I’m dying.

Good for you.

You grin to yourself—nice one.

A couple minutes pass with no response and you wonder if he’s actually dying…would that be the worst that could happen?

No. No, I don’t think that’d be too terrible.

But why would he ask you for help? I mean, it’s not like you’re friends—but then again, you’re the only one who knows who he really is…who else can he ask?

Fine. Be right there.

Turns out your fake doctor boyfriend already has a higher clearance than you. Your ID stops unlocking doors by the seventh floor, much to your chagrin, and you have to use the code Loki gave you to enter the psych/physiology floor.

Hall H turns out to be the furthest hallway from the elevators, so by the time you find it and start looking for the break room, you’re pretty sure he’ll already be dead. Since he was dying, after all.

You’re half expecting him to be lying in a puddle of his own blood, some other worker having discovered his real identity and not having as much self control as you did, but nope.

He’s still Robert Laing, reddish-blond and donning a lab coat that’s a little too short for him, staring at the vending machine in the corner.

“You came.” He doesn’t look up when you walk in, a dollar in one hand and two quarters in the other. “I’m shocked.”

“Of course you’re not dead,” you groan, turning right back around to walk out the door. “I gotta admit, by the fourth floor I was hoping—”

“I’ve given you every opportunity to kill me,” he snaps, making you stop in your tracks.

“You’re hard to kill. I shot the hell out of you that first time.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, please, your heart wasn’t in that.”

“Well, gee, I’ll be sure to mean it next time—”

“Next time?”

“I’m not very optimistic about our relationship, Doctor.” You cross your arms over your chest, scowling at him from the doorway. “Why’d you call me all the way up here? Just to rub it in my face that you have a higher clearance than me?”

“That was just an added bonus,” he sighs, turning back to the vending machine and waving his dollar at it. “I, erm…could use some assistance.”

Oh my god.

“You don’t know how a vending machine works??”

“I’m from another realm, stop laughing,” he hisses, and one of his quarters bounces off your forehead.

“HEY—”

“Just help me, woman. Please.”

“Well, since you said please…” you can’t help one more snort of laughter as you head over to him and take his money out of his hand. “Okay, what are you trying to buy?”

He points.

You try not to laugh.

“Okay, you have to punch in the code underneath it. B-4, see?”

“Here?” He points again.

“On the keypad, idiot.” You point to the keypad and watch him carefully enter the code. “Now you have to put in your money. Coins in here, bills in here. It’s a dollar fifty.”

“But I only have a dollar twenty-five—”

“Yeah, cause you threw one of your quarters at me, genius.” A big part of you wants to just tell him oh well, guess you can’t eat, but you fish around in your pocket for another quarter.

“Here.” You press it to his open palm, trying not to sound too annoyed. He’s just a big baby, you’re quickly discovering, death threats aside. “Found it on my way up, get your candy bar.”

There’s a beat of silence—shouldn’t have done that.

“…thank you.”

He sounds genuinely surprised.

“No problem. I mean, you are dying, after all.” You brush it away with a chuckle, smoothing out the corners of his dollar before trying to slip it in the machine.

“I didn’t know how to get you up here,” he admits, watching you closely. “Though nobody usually responds to my death announcements anymore.”

The machine spits his dollar back out and Loki huffs, trying to shove the bill back in the slot.

“Easy, Loki, stop it,” you laugh, taking the bill from him and trying to flatten it again. “Don’t force it in, just let it take it gently.”

You guide the dollar back in and this time it takes, whirring to life to retrieve Loki’s Snicker bar.

“That’s what she said,” you mumble to yourself as an afterthought, realising what you just said.

Loki coughs behind you.

“Sorry.” You turn around and give him a sheepish grin—he’s a little red in the face, but that might just be part of the facade. “Can’t help it.”

“That’s…quite alright,” he replies smoothly, taking the candy bar as you hand it to him. “Although…is that what she would say?”

“You disgust me.”

“And here we almost had a decent moment.”

“Almost,” you sigh, throwing up your hands in a helpless shrug. “I almost forgot you were Loki, to be completely honest.”

“Ouch. That seems unnecessary.”

“Dr. Laing isn’t completely unbearable,” you continue, holding up a finger to shush him. “So you can take…like, fifteen percent of the credit.”

He rolls his eyes again, ripping open his candy bar. “How gracious of you.”

“No need to thank me.”

You just stand there for a moment, arms crossed as he takes a tentative bite.

“Y’know, you seem more like a KitKat kind of guy.”

“I like chocolate,” he shrugs, “even more so when it comes with caramel.”

“Seriously?” You can’t help but grin—the more you talk to him, the less and less intimidating he becomes. There’s no way you’re letting this guy actually threaten you anymore.

“It used to be considered a delicacy meant only for the gods.” A flash of light fills the room and Loki’s back to Loki, gesturing at himself. “Back before your kind corrupted it.”

“Um, Loki, hate to burst your bubble, but humans invented Snickers.”

“Well, you’re not all terrible.”

Figuring you might as well take advantage of the opportunity, you flop down on one of the couches, staring at the god across from you.

…munching happily on a Snickers.

“Why are you doing this?”

He blinks and clears his throat, taking a couple steps closer. “What?”

“What are you getting out of this, all this pretending to be a doctor, getting hired here?”

“I have nothing better to do,” he answers carefully, studying your face with a quizzical gaze. “I certainly don’t want to be sitting in a cell talking through my emotions, so I might as well be putting my skills to use.”

“You’re actually taking patients??” You can only imagine what happens to them—Loki doesn’t come off as the kind of guy who’s taken his pledge to never harm. “What kind of doctor even are you?”

“To use your terminology, you’d consider me a neurosurgeon.” He sighs and lowers himself onto the couch across from you, still working on that candy bar. “Maybe in part a physician, as well.”

“Damn,” you whisper, undeniably a bit surprised. “That’s…a lot of work—for humans, I mean. Did you go to school for that?”

“I’ve studied my entire life. Never one particular subject, on Asgard w—they steer clear of limiting children’s knowledge to one specific field.”

“That’s pretty smart. Here, you’ve gotta pick one thing and just try to be good at that.”

“Identity can be terribly limiting,” he says quietly, picking at the candy wrapper. “If I identified myself as a ‘good’ neurosurgeon and only that, I don’t think I’d ever have discovered my aptitude for diplomacy, writing, mathematics, anything else.”

Diplomacy, neuroscience, math, writing, chocolate, caramel—this guy has layers, that’s for certain.

“So is this some kind of redemption plan?” You try for a smile, maybe feeling a little bit guilty for laughing before. “Gonna help a bunch of people to prove yourself and then make a big reveal to your brother?”

“That’s not a terrible idea.” He stands and stretches, crumpling his empty candy wrapper and tossing it into the trash bin. “Though I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I were ever redeemed.”

“You need to meet a nice someone, maybe settle down for the next few centuries,” you laugh, following him out the door as he shifts back into Dr. Laing. “Have a few creepy, greasy-haired babies. Might be good for you.”

He laughs and holds the door for you to leave the room, heading away down the hallway as you wait for the elevator. “That’s the furthest from a future I’d ever want, darling.”

“I’m not your darling, dipshit.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki slowburn #loki enemies to lovers #loki fake dating #loki imagine #pre-dating idiots

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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im in need of a nursery painting or shopping for the baby 😔✊👊

okok i’ve been so super discouraged for no reason lately and writing has gotten rly hard but here’s a super short thing that i wanted to be longer but you know what i’m happy with this expecting parents cuteness so enjoy

thank you all sfm for the sweet sweet messages, i’ll get around to answering asks asap!! life is wild!!

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“M…I…N…E…perfect.”

Loki looks way too proud of himself.

“You do realise I’m the one doing all the work for this baby, don’t you?” Trying to bite back a laugh, you flick your paintbrush at him. “My weight gain, my heat flashes, my cravings, my baby. S’just how it works.”

“Now wait a moment, I’ve gained weight, too,” he points out, a hand still firm on your waist as he dots his i. “We both can struggle through this.”

He’s on his knees in front of you, having just magicked away your shirt and grabbed your waist to paint the word “MINE” in big, bold, grey letters across your swollen belly.

“Have to make it explicitly clear,” he’d hummed to himself as you doubled over laughing, halfheartedly swatting at his hands.

Now he’s been down there for a few minutes, getting a little distracted with roaming hands and fighting to hold you still while he paints onto your stomach, his laughter coupled with yours making a steady hand nearly impossible.

“You have not gained weight, beanpole,” you laugh, and he leans forward to plant a kiss right above the painted word.

“I actually have, thank you for noticing.” Standing again, he lifts his shirt up, poking a finger into his side. “See? All this extra pudge. I’m rather proud of it, actually, plus it’ll keep me warm in the winter.”

“You literally still have an eight-pack.”

“It’s called sympathy weight and I wear it beautifully, if I do say so myself.” A smug smile hinting at his face, he dabs the end of his brush on the tip of your nose. “Now please, if you’re done gawking, my hormonal queen, we have a room to paint—HEY!”

He smacks at your arm, but you keep your paint-covered hand firmly planted on his ass.

“Mine,” you laugh, giving him another good slap on the rear. “Gotta make it explicitly clear, right?”

A grin spreading over his face, he twists to try and see the handprint painted onto the seat of his pants before turning to face you, spreading his arms wide. “And that’s all?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if I might direct your hands elsewhere…” he grins, fingers turning to point down towards his hips. “There’s another part of me that may be in need of claiming—”

The next wet handprint lands right on that infuriating little smirk.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

feel free to send me ideas!!

if you enjoyed…what if i linked my venmo…haha no i jest…no obligations….just in case….u don’t have to ha ha…….unless… ??

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki x reader fluff #dad!loki #loki x pregnant!reader #domestic loki #loki requests #loki laufeyson #loki drabbles #loki fluff

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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Okay but like think of this. Pre dating idiots where Loki is like doing shit he isn’t supposed to (cuz let’s face it when is he not) and reader finds him and is like yo wtf and he was to corner her and like starts growling about how she can’t tell fuckin anyone and it’s like fuckin hOT and shit idk sorry if it’s too specific I just love the pre dating tension 😅

You’re trying to have a normal Monday.

Thursday sucked, Friday you accidentally started dating a psychopath, and your weekend was full of anxious unease over what Monday might bring, given Loki’s latest threat.

Don’t think he meant it as a threat, but “maybe they’ll hire me” seems like a threat to you.

So this Monday, you head into work like normal.

You walk your normal distance, you go to your normal office and dump your stuff, you take your normal route to the break room, see the normal faces around the normal coffee pot and box of donuts.

You’re one sip into your first cup of joe when all the sudden your day starts with a spit take.

Coffee spews everywhere, all over your keys, phone, and ID resting on the counter, all over your freshly washed shirt, and Loki laughs.

He’d only nodded at you across the break room.

Crushing your now-empty cup in your fist, you steel yourself and march right over to the god—the doctor, I suppose, he’s not exactly himself at the moment—grab him by the ear, and drag him out of the room.

“You’re—ow—f-fiesty today, hm?” He’s trying to laugh at you, arms flailing as he scrambles to keep up with you; yeah, people are staring, but they don’t know who this new doctor shmoozing them around the coffee pot really is.

“Shut up,” you hiss, dragging him down the hall and shoving him into your office, slamming the door behind you. “You—you...you little shit.”

“Lovely to see you as well, darling.”

“Don’t—oh my god.”

“That’s me...”

“Why are you here??” Your voice cracks into an agonised wail, much to your dismay.

“I’m at work,” he calmly replies, pulling an ID card out of his suit pocket and waving it in your face. “And I’d appreciate if you let me be, I have patients to see to.”

No.

Your heart plummets and you gape at him, unable to do anything to stop him from turning on his heel and heading right back out the door.

Hired over one single weekend.

“Loki!” You shout and run after him, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him back. “I swear to god I’ll report you, you’re gonna kill someone—”

He whirls around, grabs hold of your arms, and drags you right back to your office—ignoring your rather loud protesting, kicking, and almost a scream for help—stopped in your throat by two nonexistent fingers pinching your tongue again.

The hold on your tongue releases when he pushes you into your office, casting a glance behind him before slamming the door shut.

“I should kill you,” he growls, and in a blink Dr. Laing is gone, the greasy, lanky, weasel of a god standing way too close to you instead. “If that’s the only way to get you to keep your mouth shut, I won’t hesitate—”

You can’t help but gulp.

“P-please don’t,” you whisper, voice betraying you. “I like my life.”

“Do you?” Loki pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh, eyes shut in obvious annoyance. “Look, I’m attempting to not kill anyone for the next few days, but if you can’t keep quiet...”

“I won’t say anything,” you swear, zipping two fingers over your lips. “I promise, I won’t tell, just let me go—”

Loki frowns, clearly not believing your pleads. “You’re a liability. It would be in my best interests to dispose of you.”

“But what if you didn’t,” you quickly offer, a sheepish smile on your face as you pat his hand—still fisted in your shirt and keeping you pinned to the wall. “J-just stop threatening to kill me and-and I won’t report you.”

His gaze flits from your face down to your hand, tapping the back of his, and he drops you.

Okay, you hadn’t realised he was holding you that high above the ground.

Scrambling to your feet, you stand back up to find yourself face to face with him.

Much too close.

He just narrows his eyes, glancing down at your throat as you swallow hard, squirming under his gaze.

His hands are twitching and with the way he’s watching your neck, you have half a mind to worry he’s about to strangle you—he certainly seems to be considering it.

Don’t back down first. Stand your ground.

You’re about to come at him with a snarky response to this little blackmail agreement when you freeze, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.

Oh my god. What is that smell??

He’s still staring, itching to kill you now, no doubt, but you can’t think straight—the scent clouds your senses and you nearly swoon.

It’s Loki.

It has to be, he’s the only thing close enough to you to be giving off a scent that strong—oh god, it’s good.

Every man in existence should be legally required to smell like this, you decide, fighting to keep yourself standing straight. For a split second, it doesn’t matter that it’s Loki, you’re about ready to hurl yourself at anyone who smells this good—

But he’s seconds away from murdering you in cold blood and seems to have no problem making you his fake little trophy wife for the sake of his escape plan, so...

“You smell awful.”

Might as well make him as uncomfortable as possible, seeing as he’s going to be blackmailing you—with the threat of death—into keeping his secrets.

“I live in a cell,” Loki snarls. “You live in a civilised shelter and actually have frequent access to a bath, yet even still...revolting.”

“You’re a dick, Loki, an absolute dick.”

“Did you...” he blinks a couple times and takes a step away from you, brow furrowed in frustration. “Did you forget that I just threatened to kill you?? You’re already insulting me again, you must be absolutely stupid.”

“I work in a tower full of superheroes,” you say simply. “One of whom is your brother, if I’m not mistaken? So I’d like to see you try.”

You slip past him, sick of sitting there backed against a wall drowning in his revoltingly not-awful scent—behind you, Loki can’t help but bare his teeth and clench his hands into shaking fists, knowing full well you’re right.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

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