Chapter Text
“Sylvie…?” Loki had been sitting, reading a book on the sofa, as he had been found doing so many times before. His eyes had just barely peeked up above the page to glance over at her. She had been busying herself with a metal wire puzzle for the better part of an hour. He had glanced up at her countless times, delighting in the way her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth in concentration, and laughing at the way the small toy had been tossed across the room in frustration, only to be picked up moments later.
Sylvie loved toys, he noticed. In their travels, she gravitated toward all things playful. Stuffed animals, puzzles, figurines, all of it caught her interest every time. Loki had never found anything more endearing in all his life. Their home had begun to fill up with these small trinkets, and their bed had an army of stuffed animals that needed to be moved whenever it was time for sleep. Loki had to admit, having the eyes of her favorite stuffed dragon on him when their time in the bedroom turned less than innocent was nothing short of unsettling. He had told her as much, and she had just frozen with her hand in his trousers and laughed. It had killed the mood that time in favor of laughing and calling him an idiot, but it didn’t take long to fire her back up again.
He continued watching her, fiddling around with her puzzle, seemingly not noticing his call. “Love di-”
“I heard you.” She responded finally, and it was a short, curt statement. She was growing frustrated with the puzzle again. “And if I can’t get this damn thing solved it’s going across the room.”
“You said that the past five times you hurled it across the room, love.” He smirked, and hid behind his book for fear she would hurl it right at his forehead.
“Piss off! What do you want?” She stopped for a moment, looking up at him. “You said my name.”
“I did. It’s not important. I’ll let you go back to your puzzle.” He heard her scoff, and looked back up to see her glaring at him. “What? Clearly you’re in no mood to talk.”
“Well I can put the stupid thing down. It’s pissing me off anyway. Go on. Out with it.”
“It’s okay, Sylvie, really. I can ask again some other ti-”
He wasn’t really sure how she got across the room so fast. He didn’t really think he wanted to know how many disasters it had taken to build up her speed, to make her the little cheetah he had fallen so desperately in love with. All he knew now is that she had knocked his book out of his hands and pounced on him from over one side of the couch. There was a small, slender hand on one side of his head, one on his chest, and a pair of knees digging into his thighs. His breath caught in his throat. “You’re like a feral tigress, you know?” He muttered from underneath her. “I know how to throw you off of me, and you’d never be able to do a thing about it.”
“Sounds like a shit bluff and you know it.”
“Oh no, Sylvie darling, nothing of the sort. I know exactly how to render you absolutely useless. And I guarantee you it’s nothing any bandit, or alien, or TVA agent had ever tried on you.”
The tilt of her head was enough to let him know that he had the tactical advantage here, despite being sat on. Without any other telegraphs or warnings his long, elegant fingers dug into her ribs, skittering around wildly. She was horrendously ticklish, and whether she forgot he knew, or didn’t know he knew, he couldn’t say. What he did know was that he had won this round as she screamed and rolled off of him.
He followed her to the floor, continuing his tickle torture and dodging the wild fists and knees that were flung his way as she thrashed about.
“Loki-!” She gasped. “Fuck you. S-” She gasped through her laughter. “Stop or I’ll gut you where you sta-!”
“Mmm. No, I don’t think I will this time.” He grunted as a thigh connected with his side, but it wasn’t enough to deter him. He straddled her waist and locked her thighs down under his own. Her thrashing didn’t stop, and she was soon scream-laughing so hard her eyes had begun to tear up. He didn’t want to cause her any harm, so he didn’t continue as long as he was tempted to. “Or maybe I’m a merciful god.”
“You’re a miserable fucking arse clown.” She panted, swiping at her eyes.
“Rude.” He stated as he climbed off of her, reaching to rub the abused spot on her ribs before his hand was promptly slapped away. She laid there for a while, catching her breath and drying her eyes, and he watched the rise and fall of her chest, letting it mesmerize him and captivate his thoughts. “What does the word “belong” mean to you?”
“You serious? That’s what you tickled me half to death for? A shit metaphor or word study or some rubbish?” She softened a bit when she saw his eyes, and his pleading expression. Those eyes would kill her every time. “Why do you wanna know?” He shrugged and she sighed. “I guess it’s like home, isn’t it? Somewhere you can go where you don’t have to run away in the morning. Or if you do run away in the morning, you know you can always come back. A place where your stuff is if you have any, and where the people you care about most in the world are.”
Loki stood, scooping her up off the floor and bringing her back to the sofa to sit on his lap, wrapped up in his arms. She gave a small huff of annoyance, but he knew she loved to be held. “What does it mean to YOU, Sylvie?”
“I just told you what it means, you boob.”
“Yes. You did. But a definition is something I can find in any dictionary. What’s in my Sylvie’s heart? Where does she belong?”
He heard a small response, but it was a quiet, mumbled answer. “Sorry, come again?” He leaned in closer to try to hear her better, but when she repeated herself he still couldn’t register what she was saying. “Love I can’t he-”
“My Loki!” She shouted, looking away to hide her crimson cheeks. “That’s in my heart, and that’s where I belong. With you. Okay? Can you shut up about it?”
Of all the things he had expected to hear her say, that wasn’t one of them, and it wormed its way directly into his brain and reduced him to a puddle. He felt his eyes mist over as the stunned expression faded from his face. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. He felt her cross her arms as she burrowed into his embrace. “Sylvie…” He murmured against her, feeling like he might float away at any time.
“You just wanted to embarrass me…” She griped. “You’re not even gonna answer your own question are you?”
“Oh no I was, but I was going to say the exact same thing about you.” He smiled, nudging her cheek with his nose. “Cross my heart.”
“Or I’ll just cut it out.”
“No, not that, maybe just make it skip a beat instead.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond before pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was slow and sweet, and lasted long enough for them both to be out of breath by the time he pulled away.
“Prick.” She muttered, barely an inch away from his lips. Her breath came in shallow puffs against him.
“Perhaps, and I’m all yours forever.” He smirked before diving in to kiss her once more. The tiny fist that thumped against his chest before coming to grasp the side of his neck meant everything, and he found himself shifting their positions quickly. He laid her down on the couch and moved to lay on top of her, before a sharp yelp tore itself from his throat and he lurched to the side, falling off the couch and clutching his thigh.
“Loki! What’s wr-” She paused, wincing for a moment. “Oh… Shit.” She reached into the pocket of her soft lounge pants and pulled out the metal wire puzzle. One of the prongs had poked through her pants and stabbed him in the leg. “Sorry…”
He didn’t answer right away, but when he was finally able to climb back up to the couch, it was him that gently took the small trinket from her and sent it flying across the room.