#loki fighting

A man appeared in your peripheral vision, gun raised and sighted onto your head. You raised one blood-stained hand to swipe at him with your powers, sending him flying into the nearest wall with a resounding crack! that made you flinch.

Loki had fought you coming on this mission, snarled and hissed and raged to disguise the fear that you knew pounded through his veins like a poison. You had stood firm, comforting yet unyielding as you insisted that you were fully capable of handling it. He couldn’t coddle you forever. He had fallen in love with an Avenger, and there was a price to pay for the perks of being a professional ass-kicker.

“Hold on princess, your knight in shining leather is almost here. And we’re coming, too,” Tony quipped, full of bravado and snark even through the earpiece you had shoved into your ear as soon as the situation had flipped upside down.

You poked your head out from behind the pillar, catching a quick look at the dozens of business casual Hydra agents advancing on you before you were forced to retreat at the flash of their weapons. Shit. “Any day now would be swell.”

The screech of metal wrenching into pieces and glass shattering was music to your ears. Blasts drowned out the sound of gunfire, and you would recognize that specific whine of Tony’s repulsors anywhere. Swallowing down the last of your fear, you stood up and walked around the pillar, taking out three agents in rapid succession. The last bullet went flying, as the woman you had aimed at crumpled to the ground from a dagger sticking out of her chest.

Loki was glorious in battle, a sight to be seen and a distracting one at that. Sure, you adored him in the mornings, soft and rumpled from sleep, his raven hair a halo around him as he pulled you into him even in his sleep. But this was where he truly seemed to thrive. Cape flowing dramatically behind him, his leathers dark and striking and moving fluidly with his graceful, powerful movements as he used his blades and speed to take down enemy after enemy, he looked the part of a battle-hardened warrior prince through and through.

You were only vaguely aware of the others coming in guns blazing through the hole in the wall that Tony had blasted. Lightning lit Loki from behind as he killed each and every person in between the two of you, exuding a terrifying deadly air that sent a wave of delicious heat rolling through you.

There wasn’t a moment lost once every enemy was taken down. Loki sped to you and pulled you into the circle of his arms, crushing you to him so tightly that you weren’t sure where he ended and you began. You matched his desperation, clinging to him like he was the only force strong enough to hold you to the godforsaken carpet ruined with glass and blood. Copper, dirt, and salt filled your nostrils as you breathed him in, only the faintest hint of the spicy earthy scent of his cologne was able to penetrate the scent of combat that clung to his skin.

“You should have listened to me,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he curled as protectively around you as he possibly could.

You shifted slightly so that the pressure of his embrace was off of your wound, smoothing your hands over his leather-covered spine again and again to both soothe him and yourself. “I know.”

He pulled away from you just enough to peer down at you, taking stock of the bruising and blood on your face. The agony written in the downward tilt of his eyebrows and the tightness of his eyes wrapped around your heart and squeezed. “I did not know if I would make it to you in time. The thought of losing you,” he paused, a muscle in his jaw fluttered and he took a deep shaky breath before continuing on, “was the most excruciating pain I’d ever felt.”

“I’m okay,” you reassured him with a weak smile.

But your knees buckled just after those placating words passed your chapped lips. The loss of adrenaline and sticky, hot blood that now soaked your side worked together to remind you just how not okay you truly were.

Loki cursed, feeling you falter against him, and swept you easily into the cradle of his arms. His eyes flitted over the slowly growing crimson stain on your white blouse that had been hidden by your black blazer, revealed by your curled up position against his chest. “You stubborn woman.”

Once inside the waiting Quinjet he sat down on a waiting cot secured against the wall, stretching you out carefully so that you were on your side with your head cushioned against his warm thighs. Nat came in moments later, somehow still breathtakingly gorgeous herself with mussed hair and dirt streaking her face. She tended to you quickly, putting an IV in your arm for saline and pain medication before patching you up the best that she could. The entire time Loki held onto your hand, his other hand smoothing over your hair in a comforting rhythm that matched his steady breaths.

You fought the deadening weight of the morphine, staring at the intricately woven leather of his trousers with heavy-lidded eyes.

“You should rest,” he suggested quietly, once everyone was back on board and you were soaring through the skies towards the Compound.

“I’m okay,” you replied. It seemed as if you were only capable of two word sentences lately.

A blanket appeared out of nowhere, covering your body from foot to shoulder with the wave of his free fingers. His other hand scratched lightly at your scalp, combing out the tangles formed from sweat and blood. “I am not losing you today, sweetling. Rest now. I have you.”

Content knowing that he would watch over you, but only after you tugged your clasped hands into your chest, you answered the siren call of morphine and exhaustion, drifting peacefully into the warm nothingness that sounded quite like Loki’s rich, low voice whispering, “I love you.”

~~~

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