David Loki × reader
Summary: David isnt used to being taken care. Or even being taken seriously. Or comforted. Until you.
Word count: 2.1k+
Warnings: fluffy af
Authors note: to our shared boyfriend det. Loki. Hope he has the best day.
"Yeah. And it was a pretty long day. And, yeah, I'm sorry I didnt call you sooner.", he huffs into his phone, right hand struggling vigorously as he tries to take off a sock.
His hair falls in his eyeline but he's already frustrated enough to grunt and drop his mobile, hands now fumbling about to ensure he can hear you.
"(Y/n)? (Y/n)?", he anxiously asks, walking into his kitchen to get a drink. The case that's hes been working on is all he has on his mind right now.
But the first thing he still did when he got home was return the two voice messages you'd left for him at 5 pm. Maybe subconsciously, he had you on his mind too... quite a bit.
"Honey, I'm right here. I was just saying, you better rest now. Are you even home yet?", you ask all in a flurry, question after question forming in your mind before you can stop your thought train.
"Just got in. And don't worry. I wont work too much.", he assures. His mouth gets busy trying to uncork his beer, oh, a beer after a tiring neurotic day.
But the "too much" is all that catches your ear.
"I'm saying dont work at all. Sleep a little.", you push on, hoping he'd follow the point in your words. But he just hums an ascent to your suggestion, throwing himself on his living room couch, phone still to his ear.
"So, how was your day?", he asks instead.
You wonder if it's his way of evading the subject, but honestly he's just missed your voice.
And theres no better way to admit it.
"It was fine. Just the usual, writing and editing and creating content for someone else.", you roll your eyes, more focused on the strangled groan that travels through your receiver.
"Loki? Are you ok?", you cut in.
"Yeah. Yeah. Just got a little injured in the field. No big deal." He trivializes the pain like it's nothing. Like the discomfort taking over his entire body is an everyday ritual.
And it physically pains you to hear him say it.
You remain silent for a minute, processing your line of action from here, but hes immediate to break your reverie.
"You know what? You've worked all day too. I shouldnt keep you up like this. We'll meet tomorrow ok?" You can hear his attempt at smiling, your hands already working the zipper on your jeans so you can get ready to leave.
"Yeah ok.", you distractedly answer, pocketing your phone when the opposite end shuts off with a quick "bye."
It's a wonder really, his deference from being taken care. The way he doesnt even expect you to be there for him. Although you want to be.
So you decide to take matters into your own hands.
It's a twenty minute drive to his apartment, your hands shivering from the cold as you tentatively sound a knock on his door. You can hear the muffled sound of a chair moving, the door creaking open after a second.
"(Y/n)?", he gasps, almost close to clutching his chest in surprise. Even though his voice gives away the shock of a lifetime, you cant help but notice the way his eyes light up when he realises you're really here.
"Hi.", you whispers sheepishly, bracing yourself against another gust of cold wind.
Placing an arm on your shoulder, he ushers you into his apartment, shutting the door behind him. Your eyes catch a glimpse of his injury as it partially peeks out of sweatshirt. But you decide to give him some time.
"What are you doing here?", he asks, hands holding the sides of your arms like hes still trying to believe this is real.
"You just sounded so tired on the call.", you reason, your hands dropping your bag on his table as you take off your jacket.
"So you just came over?" His brows furrow as he poses his question, your entire conscience freezing in place. Did you just cross a line?
"Wait. Should I not have? Shit, do you want to be alone? I can leave. Im-", you mumble, second thinking every decision youd ever made in your life.
You're about to turn around and practically run out of his apartment but his fingers cover your mouth for a second, stopping the rest of your words in their tracks.
"I couldn't be happier that you're here.", he explains with a smile. You relax a little into his touch, his hands pushing your hair behind your ear.
"I just cant believe you actually came.", he shakes his head. You can feel tears slightly sting your eyelids but you hold them back.
"Of course. I'm here for you. Always.", you assure, going on your tip toes to lightly plant a kiss on his lips.
He pulls away too soon and you can see it's the stiffness of his neck that makes me retract.
"Ok first things first." You hold out your hand, which he holds after a second, his eyebrow raised incredulously as you guide him around his own house.
You reach his bedroom, walking him over to his bed and sitting him down before he can ask anything further.
"Shhh. Just sit and relax. And let me do my thing.", you shush him, his eyes narrowing suspiciously before he nods anyway.
You pull the hem of his sweatshirt, his mind finally joining the dots, hands automatically coming up to stop you.
"(Y/n), seriously. I'm ok. You dont have to-"
"I thought we had an agreement.", you remind him, pouting like a 5 year old until he finally takes his shirt off himself.
Theres a gash on shoulder going from his clavicle to his deltoid and you have bite your tongue to keep your doubts to yourself. You didnt want him to relive the pain.
Your fingers find the gauze you'd brought with you, dipping it in antiseptic before holding it before him.
"Can I?", you ask quietly, the atmosphere a little tense as you look into his eyes. For some reason, theres an inexplicable awe in his gaze, his head nodding absently to let you proceed.
"Its going to burn.", you warn him, his eyes closing with a low tsssss when fabric touches his wound. You cringe away from his agony but he holds your hand in place, breathing again and letting you continue.
You clean the wound for a minute, making sure theres nothing questionable left in there, his eyelids still glued shut in fear or giving away the pain.
"You ok?", you ask again.
"Better than ok." His smile is wider than you've ever seen it before, almost like a school boy as loops his arms around your waist. "I'm not used to this."
"To what?", you shrug, going back to the counter for ointment.
"You know. Someone taking care of me. Hasn't happened since I was like 12."
"You better get used to it now then.", you smile, bending low to his face to plant a kiss on his lips. His fingers hook behind your ear, finding comfort in the only familiar thing he's felt all day. You.
"Wait wait. We're not done yet.", you laugh, holding yourself against his unharmed shoulder as you rub the salve into his cut. His mouth falls open as the cooling reaches through to his brain, a groan escaping his lips at the newfound ease.
"Mhmm", he hums, letting go of your waist so you can set the stuff back in its place.
"What now?", he asks, hands fidgeting on his lap.
"Now we go back out again. And make sure you've eaten something... which I'm sure you havent.", you finish, cutting off whatever lame excuse he was about to give.
He sighs in defeat, hands stationed on your waist as he follows you into his kitchen. You bring out the two cups of noodles youd stashed for emergencies in his cupboard, leaving the water to boil before you join him at his table.
Hes still hunched over the counter, posture visibly drooping to support himself. You stand behind him, massaging his shoulders, his head uncharacteristically falling back on your chest.
You're slightly taken aback by this show of vulnerability, but you hide it well enough.
"Were you working when I came over?", you ask quietly, kissing his neck as you speak. He groans in approval hand coming up to lace through your hair.
"I'm sorry.", he murmurs. He turns around in the stool but you slip out of his grip just in time to turn the burner off. You pour the water into the cups, handing him on while taking one for yourself.
Theres a humor in his gaze as he watches the water simmer before him, the smirk indicating an obvious question in the choice of dinner.
"What? This is all I found at last minute ok?", you grin, spending the next few minutes in silence as the food calms you down.
You can see his eyes drooping as he sits before you and you decide it's good enough time to get him into bed.
"Babe. Come on. Time to tuck you in now.", you joke, holding his hand as you both walk back to the bedroom.
"Oh god, am I being babied now?", he yawns, hand around your shoulders as he hugs you from behind, exhaustion finally clouding the rest of his stern demeanour.
"Yes. And how does it feel? Really?", you ask, batting your eyelashes as he lays back on the bed.
"Great. To be honest."
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