#this got a bit more vent-y than i intended but ah well we’re here. i’ll give it the vent tag so ppl can block it if needed

[mars-ipan]

steroids have decided the two emotions for tonight are Gamer Rage and Deep Yearning Sadness

[imagine-loki]

Wedded Bliss

TITLE: Wedded Bliss CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 27 AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Odin determined to find Loki a wife in a misguided, though somewhat well-intentioned attempt to ‘mellow him’. … RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: Eyy guess who survived the new year! XD

I’d like to credit SweetSigyn over at AO3 (dunno if they have a tumblr) for giving me a direction to go in. I mean, I had a vague plan for the start and end of this chapter but the middle of it was very much a handwave-y ‘I’ll think of something eventually’ kind of deal. Which… is basically how 95% of my writing goes, but shh.

________________________

    Edith excused herself about an hour later, thinking that she’d let Loki have enough fun in the other lab, and went to look for him, feeling much better about where she and Bruce stood. He was, she decided, a very likable man, and seeing how well he stayed in control of his… less sociable side up close now that they were not under threat helped her be more comfortable.

    She walked by an open door and suddenly felt herself be yanked into the room. Her instincts immediately kicked in and she turned and threw a punch up to where she figured her attacker’s face would be; instead she found that her ‘attacker’ was actually Loki and her punch had connected squarely with his throat.

    “Dude; the fuck!” she cried as he coughed and gasped, trying to get his breath back, “Don’t do that! Did you forget I was literally trained by an assassin?”

    “Duly noted,” Loki managed a tad hoarsely, massaging his neck.

    “You okay?”

    He cleared his throat. “Fine; though I certainly will not be trying that again.”

    “Good! What even made you think that was a good idea?”

    “Well, I didn’t think you would punch me!”

    “Dude, you are lucky I didn’t have anything to stab you with, or we’d be having a very different conversation. Never sneak up on me.”

    Loki frowned for a moment then sighed. “I suppose I cannot fault you your reflexes, given they keep you alive. I apologise.”

    “It’s fine. Sorry I throat punched you,” she replied, trying to stifle a laugh, “Though in my defence, I was aiming for your face; not my fault you’re so damn tall.”

    “This no longer feels like an apology.”

    Edith waved him off. “Anyway, I have to go sit on Clint now.”

    “Beg pardon?” Surely he’d misheard.

    “Well, he’s probably awake by now, which means he’s probably doing something he shouldn’t be, which means I have to go stop him.”

    “And you intend to accomplish this by sitting on him?”

     “Well, not literally…” she said then tilted her head a bit in thought, “Probably… It has been known to happen, though…”

    Loki stared at her, trying to gauge her honesty, then shook his head in disbelief. “You midgardians are so strange.”

    Edith chuckled softly. “Oh, sweetie. You have no idea. Remind me to introduce you to the wonders of duct tape and cellophane.”

    Loki eyed her dubiously but said nothing, simply gestured for her to precede him out the door. If she really did intend to sit on the archer; he very much wanted to bear witness to it.

****

    She did, in fact, intend to sit on the archer.

    As predicted, Clint was awake and working out in the recently refurbished gym despite very clear instructions that he was not to even set foot in there until a doctor cleared him; causing Edith to mutter that she was going to have some words with JARVIS for having allowed him entry. Edith gave Clint one chance to stop that he tried to wave off before quite literally tackling him onto the mat covering the floor, being mindful of his head of course, then proceeded to sit on his chest, all the while berating him like an errant child for his carelessness. The whole thing made Loki laugh so hard he had to sit down.

    Once Clint had dutifully accepted his scolding and apologised - twice - they left the gym to find something to pass the time, somehow ending up in one of Tony’s personal labs rigging up a rather elaborate trap that would, in theory, end with him getting sprayed by the fire extinguishers.

    “You know there’s a running joke online that you spend most of your time in vents?” Edith called up to Clint, hands on the ladder he stood on to steady it for him as he fiddled with a wire in one such vent.

    Clint groaned in annoyance. “Don’t remind me. Where do people even get that from? I don’t think I’ve ever even been in a vent.”

    “No idea,” Edith shrugged even though he couldn’t actually see it, “Blame Tony; that’s usually a safe bet.”

    Clint grunted in response then hopped down from the ladder. “That should do it.” He looked up towards one of the cameras in the room. “Alright, JARVIS, we’re counting on you here; no telling Tony and definitely no deleting the footage after.”

    “I have determined the possibility for injury from this trap to be very minimal, and the result could provide needed stress relief, both for Sir and the rest of the team; so, yes, you may ‘count on me’.”

    “You are absolutely certain that machine is not sentient?” Loki asked with a raised eyebrow, “Because that sounded remarkably like genuine amusement.”

    “Honestly? Sometimes I wonder,” Edith replied then grinned, “Good thing he’s on our side, just in case, eh?”

    “He’s also right about the stress relief,” Clint added then looked at them with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “What do you guys say we, ah… help the rest of the team out?”

    Edith and Loki exchanged a look then turned to Clint with equally troublesome grins.

****

    “They are never going to leave us alone in the tower again,” Edith remarked, receiving solemn nods from the men around her.

    After the plan had been decided, they had roped Bruce along and proceeded with the shenanigans. The scientist had been a bit reluctant at first, still not quite sure of his place in the tower, but before long relaxed enough to not only participate, but actually provide some ideas they ended up using. The result was a tower rigged with all manner of pranks; not all of them were expected to work, of course, particularly the ones meant for Natasha, but they had enough traps and back-ups to cause quite a bit of harmless chaos indeed.

   ��They sat in the common room, a dozen boxes of pizza on the coffee table before them, waiting for the rest of the team to return, which wouldn’t take long by JARVIS’ report. After a while of eating and chatting idly, Loki felt eyes on him and turned to find Clint staring at him rather intently, prompting a questioning look.

    “I’m just wondering where all of that’s going,” Clint said, gesturing to the slice in Loki’s hand and the mostly empty box - one of three, so far - before him.

    “Wow, Clint; rude,” Edith chimed.

    “What? It’s a serious question!”

    Loki chuckled, waving it away unconcernedly. “Asgardians have a much higher metabolism than humans, that is all. Be happy it’s just me and not Thor, or worst, Volstagg; you would never get a single morsel with those two around.”

    “I’ll take your word for it,” Clint replied then half turned to Edith and teased, “Gotta say, though; I never thought I’d meet someone who eats more than Edie does, and we live with a super soldier.”

    “Kiss my ass, Barton!” Edith retorted as the others laughed.

    “She does have a rather surprising appetite for one so small, doesn’t she?” Loki added with mock seriousness.

    “Oh. Oh, that’s how it is, then? You’re just going to gang up on me, then?” Edith huffed with a surprisingly genuine looking offended expression, “Fine! I don’t need you anyways,” she stood from the couch and moved to the one on the other side of the table, pulling a pizza box closer to her, “I got all I need right here.”

    By the time the rest of the team arrived the conversation had devolved further into a swapping of embarrassing stories that had the three nearly breathless with laughter, which of course was only a prelude to what ensued when the pranks they had set up were triggered. Surprisingly, even Natasha fell victim to one (or pretended to; it was hard to tell with her), though the look on her face promised a swift and terrible revenge.

    Loki walked Edith to her bedroom door after it was all said and done, as he did every night; and as every night, Edith didn’t let him go without a few (dozen) kisses. Not that he was complaining, mind. When the elevator opened onto her floor, Loki found himself face to face with Tony, and gave him a respectful nod before stepping into the car beside him.

    “You and I need to talk,” Tony spoke up after the doors closed and they began moving up.

    “Do we?” Loki asked curiously, “Regarding?”

    “The future. Specifically, your future.” He turned to face Loki. “I need to know how long you’re planning to stick around.”

    “Are you asking me to leave, Stark?”

    “Nope. I’m offering you a job.”