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satandrankmy-coffee · 1 year

Text

A Lucky God

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: A classic wounded realisation of mutual affection

Tags: mentions of blood, injured Loki, fluff ending.

Word count: 1.7k

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“Did you think you would spend your New Year’s Eve like this?” Loki coughed, a shit-eating grin stamped across his bloody face.

You pressed your hands on the open wound on his side, “shut up,” you whispered, trying your best not to let your vision get blurry by the tears.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was what you asked for as a Christmas gift,” his voice sounded strained, his eyes fluttering shut, forcing one of your hands to move from his wound to his face, slapping him right across it. “Ouch.” He woke up, regaining consciousness as you continued to apply pressure

“That was more like what I was wishing for,” you chuckled, trying your best to ignore the warmth pulling in your hands as he lost more and more blood. “Don’t close your eyes again. They are on their way.”

“I am tired,” he whispered, his head laying heavy against the wall together with his upper body.

“You are going into hypovolemic shock.” You corrected him, feeling your chest tighten even more, tears clouding your vision. “They are coming. Just stay awake.” You repeated, mostly to yourself, trying to stay positive.

“Are you crying?” He suddenly stiffened, trying to reach for you as you pushed him back down, sitting firmly on his lap.

“Don’t move. You are making it worse.” Your voice had lost all its authority, coming off more as plead than an order.

“Why are you crying?” Loki cocked his head, confused like your hands weren’t covered in his blood like both of your entire lower bodies were not covered in blood.

“They are coming,” you repeated to yourself with a gasp, looking down at your hands.

“You already said that,” he searched for your eyes, barely being able to focus on the blurry figure that straddled his lap. His eyes fluttered again, closed. You didn’t slap him this time. You simply started to sob uncontrollably.

You didn’t even feel it when Thor pulled you off his brother when someone reassured you he would be fine when they took him away. You didn’t even notice the comments about being covered in Loki’s blood, the jokes about him being immortal, or the hug Thor had given you as he thanked you for saving him.

…

“He is stable,” Tony had entered the room they had brought you in. You were still covered in blood, which had started to harden. “You should go shower.”

You didn’t answer, simply nodding as the entire mission played back in your head, every mistake, every conversation repeating like a broken record.

You showered with cold water, scared the warmth would feel like his blood. Somebody had come to check on you, but you had asked them to leave, wondering how anybody could talk to you after you had almost gotten another Avenger killed.

Tony checked on you next, “It happens, kid.” He had reassured you from afar. You didn’t believe him. He probably thought you had done it on purpose. All the stupid jokes and the shallow competition with Loki pointed to that. You had tried to get him killed; that was for sure what everyone was thinking. “He is awake if you want to go see him,” that sentence had been the only thing to get through your head since you had last seen Loki.

“Where?” You had whispered, your own voice sounding foreign to your ears.

“I think he should be back in his room,” Tony answered. “I am going back to the party. You should join too after you see him. He will be fine.”

You nodded, unwilling to explain to Tony how that was the most inconsiderate statement ever. Loki’s room was barely a few doors from yours, but each step had felt like a mile. Your stomach turned on itself as you wondered how angry he would be, whether he would try to kill you right now or wait until he was back to full strength.

You reached his door, hesitating as your hand lifted to knock. You exhaled, finally pressing your knuckles against the wood. A weak “come in” came from the other side, and the mere sound of his strained voice took you back to the mission, filling your eyes with tears all over again. “Come in,” he repeated, noticing your hesitation.

You sighed, reaching for the handle and entering the pitch-black room. “Can I turn the light on?” You asked, your voice cracking.

“Of course,” he said, yet broke out into a dramatic groan as soon as you did. “God, are you not tired of forcing me to suffer for a day?” He joked, but you took it personally.

“I should go,” you turned back the way you came, ready to exit the room.

“I was not being serious,” he clarified, reaching forward to you, just to hiss in pain at the movement. “Stay.”

You exhaled loudly, closing your eyes to hold in tears and turned back to him. “I am sorry. I-“

“It was not your fault,” he stopped you before you could even finish your sentence, inviting you to come closer.

“Yes, it was.” You raised your tone, walking to his side of the bed, watching him as he tried to sit up slightly.

“No, it wasn’t. You saved my life,” he looked at you seriously, his gaze unwavering.

“I sobbed as you bled out,” you threw your hands up in the air.

“More than I expected from you. I thought you would just leave me there to die,” he chuckled just to cry out in pain.

“Don’t say that.” You warned him, looking down at him.

“You hate me. I didn’t expect you to save me.” He replied, this time seriously.

“I hate you?” You laughed exasperated, covering your face with your hands. “I hate you?” You repeated dramatically, walking around the room.

“You hate me.” He repeated, watching you confused.

“You hate me,” you replied, looking back at him, matching his serious tone.

“I hate you? Don’t make me laugh that I am injured enough,” he tried to raise his hands but was pulled by the pain.

“You should hate me. I almost got you killed,” you replied, your tone growing more impatient after each word.

“You saved my life, and even if….” He stopped mid-sentence, looking away. “Never mind.”

“Even if?”

“Even if I would have died, I would have been perfectly happy where I was. With you.” He lifted his eyes from his lap back to your face, scrutinising your shocked expression.

“You hate me,” you repeated in denial of his words. Your eyes big as you looked at him.

“I would have been happy dying in your arms,” he repeated, his gaze challenging your denial. “Stop projecting your hate.”

“Do you think I would cry the way I did for somebody I hated?” You shouted this time, refusing to let him insult your intelligence.

“Yes,” he spoke up, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips. You moved closer, sitting down by his side.

“I thought you had died. Why couldn’t you stay awake?” You shouted, unsure where your anger was coming from, where all those confusing feelings you thought unreciprocated were resurfacing from.

“Are you mad at me for passing out?” He tried to contain a laugh, breaking into a shocked smile.

“I am mad at you because you come back and say stupid things like you would have been happy dying in my arms when I had spent the past god knows how many hours in complete shock because I thought you were dead.” You shouted back, this time looking at him in the eyes as the two of you realised something together.

“It is almost midnight,” he suddenly changed the topic of conversation, looking at the clock on his bedside table.

“And?”

“There is a New Years’ party downstairs,” he added matter of fact.

“And?”

“You should go celebrate,” he gave you a strained smile.

“I wanna make sure you won’t die.” You replied, reaching for his free hand next to you. Loki was immediately shocked by the contact, his hand stiffening before it grabbed yours, caressing it.

“Terrible excuse,” he grinned.

“Then I’ll go,” you tried to stand up, hoping he would call your bluff.

Loki refused to let go of your hand, making you look back at him. The God smiled at you, his lips slightly parted. “Stay.”

“Give me a good excuse,” you replied, refusing to sit back down. He pulled on your hand again, lips parted as he thought.

“When I had you on my lap, your hands on my body, all I could think about was how sorry I was that I hadn’t told you how I felt before.” He sighed, his gaze unwavering, “Then I felt some relief, thinking you were at least not gonna feel sorry for me if you thought I hated you. When I started losing consciousness, I thought about how perfectly content I was that I was dying with you by my side, however selfish that was.”

“I think you lost too much blood, Loki.” You replied, trying to let go of his hand, but he held you tighter.

“Let me be sincere, for once, no mischief,” he spoke with a solemn look, his eyes shining with adoration, forcing you to sit back down by his side. He suddenly let go of your hand and moved slightly to the opposite side of his bed, filling the room with painful groans. “Come here, lay with me. Humour this injured soldier and let him end the year as a content god.”

You moved slowly, questioning the newly found proximity, ignoring the fact that you were on top of him merely hours ago. He stretched his arm, offering it for you to lay your head on. Your movements were delicate, hoping not to hurt him any further and also cautious, scared all of this was simply a myriad caused by the shock. Your head finally touched his chest as you kept a careful distance from his wound.

“I am a lucky god,” he exhaled into a smile. You closed your eyes, taking in the feeling of his body against yours without fearing for his life, feeling him breathing under your touch. “I get to start the year next to the person that saved my life a few hours ago. I get to live one more day to tell them how I feel,” he spoke before pressing a kiss on the top of your head and closing his eyes as the sound of fireworks played in a distance, “happy new years.”

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Liv's Note

Another New Year's Loki fic I had prepared but never posted. I am a sucker for this god. I hope you enjoyed it, and please take the time to reblog it to support my work :) it means the world to me!

Let me know what you thought of it <3

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