Haircut
"It's really time to get your hair cut." Natasha moved a long strand of black hair from the pillow where she had sat her elbow on it, causing Loki to yelp in protest.
"I told you, it is an expression of my freedom and spirit."
She poked him in the side with her finger, the one spot that always made him ticklish. "Yes, yes. But when I find your freedom all over the sheets after a long night of mischief, and when your spirit actually gets caught in your pajama drawer – don't try to deny it, I saw you this morning – and when freedom and spirit stops up the bath drain, then it is time to call the Royal Barber. Or Aesir Beauty Shoppe. Or whatever. How do you cut your hair in Asgard, anyway?"
"But, darling," Loki said in a silky voice, "there are many creative things I can do with it, you know. For example…"
"Oh. Huh. Hm." Natasha sucked in her breath as he moved over her. "Okay. Maybe – next week."