Summary: Norway can get pretty effing cold in the winter, even for a frost giant, and Loki finds himself seeking out new ways to keep warm against the chill.
Word Count: 1,800
Author’s Note: I’ve been sick for about three days and honestly, some cuddles from a handsome British daddy would probably do wonders to speed up my recovery. Instead what I got was some creep asking me where he could buy weed and trying to get my number while I waited for the bus outside my building this afternoon. So you know. I’m feeling pretty fucking splendid about the men I have to work with around here. Also, I could really do with some colder weather because all this heat and humidity is getting old, but it continues to be hot as balls every day and I can only further contemplate all the reasons I really, really want to move to the UK sooner rather than later. At least I have my imagination and sense of humor. Without them I’m pretty sure I would have irreversibly snapped by now.
~ Muerta 🌸💀🌸
Living in the Arctic Circle was, shockingly to nobody, unbearably cold. If the merciless Nordic wind and the thick sheets of ice and snow that coated every available inch of land for six months out of the year weren’t sobering enough to drive you insane, the near twenty-four hours of darkness certainly were. And yet, there you sat; huddled in a secluded cabin in the northernmost part of the Norwegian wilderness, keeping yourself warm with a scalding pot of tea and constant reminders of how wealthy this job would make you once it was finished.
When Thor had returned with the entirety of the Asgardian population in tow after Ragnarök, work began immediately to find the alien nation a new settlement on Midgard. Tony Stark – the disgustingly rich and technologically gifted Avenger who signed your paychecks – was head of the project, and had plucked you from his public relations team to be one of the management leads on it, noting how ridiculously talented you were at managing others to benefit everyone. Thor, Asgard’s new head honcho, had taken an instant liking to you, finding a deep respect for your passion and wit, and keeping you close to his side throughout the process of moving thousands of his friends and family members from a makeshift shelter on the outskirts of Manhattan to the middle of Absolutely Nowhere, Scandinavia, onto land that the government of Norway had generously offered up to become the new Asgard.
In his endeavors, Tony had neglected to tell you that Thor and his handsome, borderline psychotic brother, Loki, were a package deal. Having lived in New York during Loki’s attempted hostile takeover a few years before, you were hesitant to work so closely with him at first, to the point that you threatened to castrate him or worse if he tried any of his usual tricks to prompt world domination. Your threats had done little to deter the god – much to your disdain – and over the spring and summer spent laying the foundations for a functioning Asgardian sect, Loki had grown fond of you, spending every waking moment at your side and observing you with rapt interest.
Your unlikely friendship had started with biting, contentious banter, Loki only getting more amused the more you became frustrated with him, and you spent much of your free time trying in vain to avoid him. Many late nights working together changed the tone of your relationship, however, and you began to grow fond of him when he started asking you about Midgardian literature, history, and culture – subjects that you were passionate about and found you loved sharing with him. After many long nights awake with the Trickster God, you were willing to admit you liked him, and even came to consider him one of the greatest friends you’d ever had, though you would never fuel the lovable bastard’s ego by telling him that to his face.
When winter had rolled in, work on rebuilding Asgard was put on pause due to the relentless and unpredictable nature of Arctic weather. By that time, most of the residential cabins had been finished, with yours nestled within walking distance of the impressive stone mansion that served as Thor’s palace and furnished with every amenity you could possibly want or need. You were especially thankful for the panels that had been installed on every window, laced with Loki’s Seidr so that they changed their scenery at will depending on your mood.
“A little something to make the darkness more bearable,” he’d explained.
It was nearly two in the afternoon, and although you had the fireplace roaring and the heat on full blast, you still couldn’t manage to get warm enough to be comfortable. A snarling, furious wind shook the eaves of the cabin’s roof, causing the wooden rafters to creak under its unforgiving pressure as an unyielding storm roared outside. You were curled tightly beneath piles of soft blankets in your living room, cradling a cup of tea in your chilled fingers in the hope that it would inspire some of the circulation to return to them as you watched some frivolous home design show on the TV above your mantle, trying to distract yourself from how inadmissibly cold you were. Without warning, the front door of the cabin flew open, letting in a barrage of inclement wind and sharp snowflakes that stung your cheeks as they whipped by, the blizzard beyond the threshold framing the towering silhouette of a man with searing crimson eyes. The lofty man slammed the door shut behind him as he stomped inside, panting as he shook the snow from his shoulders.
“You’re blue,” you greeted Loki, not moving from your bundle of cushions and blankets beside the couch. He sneered, shedding his fur-lined jacket and placing it on the hook beside the door.
“I thought it would help me stand the wind,” he mumbled. “I was incorrect.”
You smirked at him as he stalked over to the fireplace, kneeling before it to warm his hands, his skin maintaining its icy hue.
“You’re cold?” you asked, amused. “Aren’t you like a snow fairy or something?”
Loki’s eyes flicked to the side at you, his brow furrowed into a vexed glare, but he didn’t turn to face you.
“Frost giant,” he corrected, annoyance dripping from his tongue. “I needn’t remind you that although I am of Jotun blood, I was raised on Asgard, in a much warmer climate.”
You hummed, sipping your tea and returning your attention to your show. After a moment, Loki stood again and paced over to the coffee table where your tea pot sat nestled in its cozy, steam curling from its spout. He took up one of the spare mugs beside it and poured himself a generous serving, manipulating it so that it hovered overhead while he made himself comfortable within the cocoon of fluff you’d built around yourself. You whined at his intrusion but did nothing to fend him off, instead shuffling to make room for him as he settled himself into the cushion beside you. He curled the blankets around both of your shoulders and removed his mug from where it floated above him, sighing contentedly as he drank from it.
“Isn’t the palace warm enough?” you asked him, your tone unaccusing as you were genuinely confused as to why he’d chosen to weather a blizzard to come to your cabin instead of staying within the safe confines of his own home.
“Yes, but sharing body heat is much more effective than huddling in front of a fireplace,” Loki nonchalantly replied.
“And Thor didn’t want to snuggle with you?” you teased, cackling as Loki dipped his still-blue fingers under the surface of his tea and playfully flicked some of the liquid at you in retaliation.
“That tongue of yours will get you into trouble someday,” he chided. You smirked.
“Look who’s talking.”
The two of you relaxed together in silence for a while, each sipping your tea and paying little attention to what was playing on the screen before you, your concentration stolen by the wind whistling outside as it lashed against the cabin’s walls. Three cups of oolong and a slew of finicky couples shopping for houses far above what their means allowed later, the fire in your hearth had nearly burned itself out, reduced to simmering embers and a subdued orange glow. The loss of the fire’s heat caused your body to shiver gently, and although a stack of logs was piled high beside the fireplace, ready to spark more heat where it was needed, you opted not to move from your shelter, far too comfortable and warm to brave the cold of the cabin’s hardwood floors.
“Shall I start the fire again?” Loki whispered. You shook your head.
“No,” you replied. “Don’t leave; you’ll make it colder.”
Loki let out a quiet, exasperated sigh as he worked himself closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up against his chest. With your body flush to his you could feel his freezing temperature, as he was still in his Jotun form, and you squirmed in an attempt to distance yourself from his frigid flesh.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Loki scolded, holding you firmly in place. “Don’t move, little one. Let me work.”
Without hesitation, he slipped his hands under the heavy fabric of your sweater and splayed his large palms and spindly digits across your stomach, causing your breath to hitch. You peered at him quizzically over your shoulder, wondering just what the hell he thought he was doing, and he grinned back at you, resting his chin in the crook of your neck as he began to (literally) work his magic. The chill you felt where his fingers met your skin soon faded into a soothing warmth, spreading from your torso out to your limbs like you were slipping into a hot bath. Your body went limp in Loki’s arms and you melted into him, your head resting against his shoulder as you closed your eyes, sighing blissfully at your newfound comfort.
“Oh my god,” you murmured, your hands moving to meet his where they rested underneath your shirt. He chuckled as he laced his fingers between yours, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.
“Better?” Loki hummed, his lips now pressed softly against your cheek. You nodded, and as you turned to face him, the tip of your nose brushed against his, and you could feel the whisper of his icy breath on your cheeks.
“Much better,” you breathed.
A faint smile fell across Loki’s features as he leaned forward, closing the gap between you and snaring your lips in a gentle kiss, his lips as warm and as soft as his hands had been upon your stomach. Much to your mind’s surprise, your body took control and reached up a hand to rest at the back of his head, fingers knotting in the silky locks of his hair as you kissed him back. You felt a tickle against the walls of your chest, and as you parted from Loki, you ran your tongue against your lips and gazed up at him, eyes wide and full of splendor. He couldn’t help but let out an endeared snigger at the sight of you, one of his thumbs moving to stroke at your cheek.
“I have wanted to do that for so very long,” he admitted softly. You grinned, a tender, pink flush creeping over your skin.
“Was it worth the wait?” you asked cheekily, biting your lip. Loki chuckled.
“Better, my darling,” he purred, pulling you into a second, more pious kiss as he pressed his chest against yours, closing every possible gap between your bodies.
Toad's Cave 