#thor reader insert

In the distance, your friends emerge from the opposite treeline, heading towards you with enough speed that you drop your hand and stand a little straighter, even more worried that there’s something important you’ve missed. Between the probable concussion and being out of ammo, you’re not sure how helpful you’re going to be if they’re counting on you for backup.

“Are there more coming? What did they say?”

Steve shakes his head, frowning, and stays silent. You hate being in the dark, and anxiety joins the head injury already making your stomach swirl. 

“Then what is it?”

At the front of the group, Thor leads the rest of the team across the scorched grass. You know the look on his face well, and you know that it will do you no good to try and downplay the pain you’re in—he already knows. Somehow, he’s always been able to sense your deepest anguish and despair without even being near you. He tried explaining the connection to you once, but you’d kissed him sweetly and chalked it up to love. If there is something more Asgardian going on, you’d rather revel in its magic than try and wrap your brain around it.

He reaches you in what feels like seconds, and you’re helpless as Steve peels off to check up on the others. Thor cradles your face in both hands, turning it gently from side to side as he inspects the scrape running across your forehead, your newly blossoming black eye, and the cut on your bottom lip.

“I was worried something happened to you,” he murmurs, his voice low with anger, guilt, and remorse. It makes you want to punch something, knowing that you’re the cause of those feelings in someone you love so deeply. “The others, they said they hadn’t seen you… I was right.”

You lift your hands to gently pull off his, then shake your head. That’s a mistake and you slam your eyes shut, breathing in through your nose to try and quell the nausea that rises at the movement.

“Breathe, Little One,” Thor soothes.

He holds you steady as you try to take slow breaths through your nose in an attempt to keep yourself from vomiting all over him. When the queasiness finally subsides, you open your eyes and allow him to lead you to a fallen tree, which is just the right height for you to sit. He chooses to take a knee in front of you, and you force a weak smile.

“I’ll be okay. It’s just a concussion.”

“I never should have left you. No battle is important enough—”

You reach out to grab his hand. It’s calloused from years of holding his hammer. Tonight, it’s caked with blood and soot from the alien’s burning ships. You’ve grown used to the rough feel of his skin against yours, as well as the sight of it stained with the marks of war.

The sharp smell of ozone accompanies Thor’s presence. As you breathe in again, deep enough to fill your entire chest until it almost hurts, you smell rain. A few moments later, rain begins to fall, filtering through the treetops before landing on your head and shoulders. It washes clean the gun slung across your back. You can feel the ash beginning to clear as well.

“You know as well as I do that you can never resist a fight,” you tell him, smiling just a little. It makes the cut in your bottom lip sting from the stretch. “I’ll heal. I always do.”

Thor doesn’t smile back, but he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t move your hand either, and when rain falls on his cheek, you rub it in with your thumb, using it to clean the grime from his skin.

You sit there together in the rain, listening to it drum against the leaves and branches above you, until Steve finally approaches again.

“We’ve got confirmation that the rest of them cleared out,” he says, not bothering with a greeting. “We should do the same. Clint needs medical attention, as does you.”

There’s no denying that he’s talking to you and not Thor. Dropping your hand from his face, you sigh and move to get up, readying yourself for the deep ache that is starting to spread throughout your body now that the adrenaline is wearing off. Thor stops you with a hand on your knee.

The ground is damp with blood and rain. When he stands, his right boot glistens with the thin sheen of moisture it’s picked up from the forest floor beneath him. Your own boots are wet too, though mostly from when you’d charged through the river earlier. Thor had taken a more familiar approach during the battle, sticking to the open plain to the north of the forest. You, on the other hand, had taken the southern path.

The forest is separated from the plain by a wide river. Thankfully, it’s shallow enough that you’d been able to cross it with little difficulty. Your pants are soaked to just above your knees, and you’re silently wishing you’d taken Tony’s offer for a weather-proof suit instead of your traditional uniform, but wet clothes never hurt anyone. You can change on the quinjet.

Thor bends down and loops one arm around your shoulders, then carefully slides the other between the backs of your knees and the fallen tree. He lifts you with ease, and though you know he’d never drop you, instinct makes you cling to him. 

“You don’t have to carry me,” you tell him. 

“I don’t have to do a lot of things. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to hold you again.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, embracing the gentle sway of your position as he follows Steve toward the rest of the group, then across the clearing. The quinjet is hidden just west of where the first ship had landed. If all’s gone according to plan, the team’s presence on the plains drew them away from the hiding spot and your plane is still where you left it.

Thor crosses the river using a path of flat-topped boulders you hadn’t seen in your hurry to lead Thanos and his most trusted soldiers away from the center of the fight. The only thing that had been going through your head was to move, and to move quickly. 

“I’ll always come back for you. I’ll always look for you,” Thor says as he steps onto the opposite bank of the river. You tilt your head back to look up at him instead of at the backs of your friends’ heads. 

“I never thought you wouldn’t,” you answer honestly, a bit surprised by the statement. “Did you think I’d been taken? Or that I’d left you for good?”

He’s silent as he approaches the quinjet, whose cloaking software is disabled as Tony approaches it first. You stare at his face while you wait for his answer, silently inspecting his beard for any hidden cuts or scrapes you hadn’t noticed before.

Finally, Thor replies, “In Asgard, our ancestors journey to Valhalla after their death. I have faith that we would be reunited there someday. My father would ensure it if my mother did not.”

“If I have my way”—you say, lowering your voice as he climbs up the jet ramp and ducks his head to enter the cargo hold—“we’ll never be separated by death.”

The rest of the team talks quietly to each other, but Thor doesn’t join the conversation. He carries you past your friends and you smile tiredly at them when they look your way. Finally, Thor settles himself in the farthest seat. He keeps you in his lap, and you trust that he won’t let anything happen to you. It wouldn’t matter either way—the quinjet’s maneuvers are hardly noticeable if it’s flown right, though Steve always insists that you use one of the lap belts attached to the seats.

Your legs are draped over Thor’s lap so you can sit sideways and rest your head against his shoulder. His arms wrap around your back and rest over your thighs to keep you secure.

As the door to the cargo hold closes, the lights dim, allowing more power to the engines. They’ll come on again soon, but for a moment, you close your eyes in relief. You hadn’t realized how much the light was worsening the pain from your concussion.

“Little One…” He murmurs, and you open your eyes, then sit up a little more to press a kiss to his damp cheek. 

“I love you. More than anything,” you add. “And I promise I’ll be okay. I just need a little time to heal, just like I always do.”

He squeezes your thigh in return. “I’ll be worried until you’re fully healed again. If we were on Asgard…”

You smile up at him. “If we were on Asgard, there are a lot more things I’d like to be doing.”

Closing your eyes, you relax into the warmth of his body that is slowly recentering you, despite the cool armor pressed against your skin. Behind you, your friends debrief quietly. The quinjet begins to lift as you listen. You feel the movement only for a moment before it fades away and you’re able to focus back on the sound of their voices, grateful for another finished fight and a chance to rebuild.

“Tell me more about Asgard,” you murmuring, knowing he’ll hear you despite the noise in the cargo hold. “Tell me about the palace.”

There’s a fondness in Thor’s voice as he replies, one that only comes about when he speaks of his home and his childhood. It’s warm and gentle, and it ensures that Asgard will always have a special place in your heart, even if you’ll never see it in its true glory.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Thor warns, nudging your arm.

You open your eyes. He’s looking down at you, but there is no worry in his expression. Instead, he smiles at you when you meet his gaze.

“I won’t,” you assure him. “Keep talking.”

And he does, all the way home.

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King Valkyrie walks you towards Thor’s house. She warns you to brace yourself, that Thor isn’t…himself.

You haven’t seen Thor since the battle. Not really. Not long enough to truly look at him. Not long enough for him to look back.

Val departs quietly upon nearing the doorstep.

You let out a big sigh.

You knock on his door.

It takes a moment. A shuffle. A muffled curse. Something crashes.

Then—The door swings open.

Thors eyes widen in surprise.

“(Y/N)?” he questions. His voice is soft. Disbelieving. A little… hopeful.

Your heart clenches. He looks so different—hair unkempt, beard overgrown, shirt stretched, eyes tired. A beer can clutched in one hand. Behind him, the TV blares some violent video game, Korg shouts encouragement, and there’s a half-eaten pizza on the couch.

But his smile is real.

He pulls you into a bone-crushing bear hug. Oh, how you’ve missed his hugs

“You’re here,” he says, almost like he can’t believe it.

“I wanted to see how you were doing.” You explained, trying not to cringe from the smell that hit you.

“I’m fine!” Thor says too quickly, too brightly. “Never better. Beer? Pizza?” he offers, then turns to Miek and Korg.

“Friends, you remember Lady (y/n), one of Earth’s fiercest warriors!”

Korg and Miek bid you a hello.

You laugh softly, because you don’t know how else to keep from crying

He steps aside. “Come in.”

You spend the afternoon with him. Sitting on his sagging couch, feet on the cluttered floor. He laughs at Korg’s jokes, brags about beating some kid online, pretends everything is normal.

But you see him.

The way he flinches when someone on the game shouts “headshot.”

the tired in his eyes; the kind that sleep can’t fix.

The way he keeps his smile turned on like a light he refuses to let burn out.

And every time he notices you watching him, he straightens. Puts on that brave, too-loud grin.

You’ve loved him quietly for years. Loved the way he fought for everyone, carried worlds on his back. Loved the softness he hid behind thunder and bravado.

Now all you want is to help him carry even a piece of this pain.

But he won’t let you close enough to touch it.

As the sun starts setting, you stand up.

“I should get going. It’s a long journey back.”

Thor springs to his feet like he’s afraid you’re leaving forever.

“So soon? You—you don’t have to go.”

Your heart twists.

“I’ll come visit again,” you promise. “If you want.”

His eyes flicker. Something unspoken, something raw. But then he smiles that same forced smile.

“Of course I want you here. You’re my..” he pauses only for a heartbeat, but it’s too long; you notice. “Friend.”

Friend.

You’re not sure what the hesitation means. You’re not sure what the way he looked at you means. You’re not sure of anything at this point.

You manage a nod, but something in your chest twists sharply.

He walks you outside. The wind off the water is cold, and Thor crosses his arms like he’s trying to hide the slight shake in his hands.

“Thor… you don’t have to pretend with me.”

“Really,” he says softly, “I’m alright. Don’t worry.”

You look up at him.

His jaw tightens. A flicker of panic crosses his face.

“I’m not pretending.”

You hold his gaze. You know he’s lying.

He knows you know.

You shift your weight, unsure if you should try again- push him to talk, but gently.

But something in his posture stops you, he’s hanging on by a thread and you cant be the one to pull it.

“I should go,” you whisper.

He nods too quickly. “Yes. Right. Of course.”

But then his hand twitches—just enough that you think he might reach for you. Might ask you to stay. Might let you in.

He doesn’t.

His fingers curl back into a fist.

You force a soft smile. “Goodnight, Thor.”

“Goodnight,” he echoes, voice so gentle it nearly breaks you all over again.

You turn away before he can see the shine in your eyes. The gravel crunches under your boots, each step feeling heavier than the last.

You make it down the hill. Past the houses. Past the docks. Past the point where he can see you if he looks out his window.

And then, when the last sliver of his home is out of sight—Your breath cracks.

You stop, hands bracing on your knees, and the tears come fast, hot, relentless. You try to breathe around the ache in your chest.

He’s hurting so much.

And he won’t let you help.

And you don’t know how to reach him.

You cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sob that tears out of you. The salty wind stings your eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling hollowing you out from the inside.

You love him. You came all this way for him. And he still won’t let you in. He doesn’t even know.

You wipe your cheeks, but the tears just won’t stop.

You’ve fought monsters.

You’ve survived wars.

You’ve lost and kept going.

But this—watching Thor break from the inside while insisting he’s fine- hurts more than any battle ever did.

You stand there in the fading light, heart in pieces, wishing he’d let you give him even a fraction of the comfort he’s given to others.

And behind you, in the house on the hill, Thor sits heavily on the couch, staring at the door you walked out of.

Korg says something, but Thor doesn’t hear it.

Because for the first time all day, the smile falls completely off his face. His mind fills with thoughts about you. He should call your name, run after you, something.

But fear roots him in place. Something heavy and unspoken sits in the back of his throat, but he swallows it down the same way he swallows everything these days

-

Your comment, however, hadn't been aimed at Helen. Rather, it was muttered in amusement at the swaggering entrance of Thor — and, in tow, his mighty cask of Asgardian mead.

That stuff was treated like liquid gold around here. I mean, you once watched a single shot of the stuff put Clint Barton outta commission for three days. For two of them, he was still drunk.

For men like Thor, Rogers and the recent (brooding and tentatively murderous) addition to the team — Sergeant James Barnes — the stuff was just the right amount of alcohol per volume to produce the usual, coveted effect that normal spirits were unable to supply.

The bottle hanging from Thor's hands is made of a murky, green glass — and it's big. You're a bit ashamed to admit you'd probably purchased one or two Barefoot Rosés in that gargantuan size. The wax seal around the bottle's neck is pitch black. The label is scrawled with the sort of runes you'd usually tap Erik Selvig in on.

But, context clues are context clues.

It's booze.

And Thor, as soon as he makes eye-contact with you across the room, is thanking the Gods he decided to bring this — because really, how else was he going to muster up the courage to walk over there and talk to you?

What, like... Like some sort of... Normal person?

He's a God. And — a-and you're... You're the very funny, very sweet, very kind member of the medical team who is always so gentle when Thor manages to injure himself enough on missions to warrant attention. It's rare, but the worst bit is: he isn't exactly keen on it. No, no. He much prefers healing magic — an admission that to him even seems laughable.

By Odin's beard, he is Thor. The God of Thunder. Generations of viking kin, true warriors, have prayed to him for strength in battle, for guidance in war. He is the Champion of Storms, protector of Midgard.

And here he is: afraid of needles.

Thor shifts awkwardly on his feet, watching you converse lightly with Dr. Cho across the room — and he stalls enough that Steve sees it.

The Captain's usual greeting is met with half-there silence. A far-away handshake-hug. And though maybe Steve isn't looking for his own dance partner tonight, it doesn't mean he isn't keenly aware of his good friend's center-of-attention. The same center-of-attention that's been the center-of-attention for weeks now.

"C'mon," Steve rumbles lowly, gesturing with his chin, "Let's get you a drink, and get you over there."

Thor holds up a hand. He narrows his brows. "I can't simply—"

"What's stoppin' you?" Steve asks, decidedly Brooklyn-esque of him.

"She's... I mean — you can see her, can't you?" Thor grits out, leaning in close, "Oh, Gods, she's looking over here—"

"—I thought you were supposed to be Crown Prince of Asgard—"

"I am," Thor hisses, ducking to seem busy by the entrance to the upper-level of the Tower. There's a table by the elevator. He fiddles with a framed photo of Stark and Parker, "I am and all the... y'know, courtship blah blah blah was handled by advisors. And my mother. I was never very good at it—"

"Hey, you two."

Thor jumps six feet in the air, and in that moment, a zap of lightning touches the tip of your nose. He nearly drops the bottle of Asgardian Mead. Steve catches it. Thor leans, one hand on the table, and the other on his hip.

He tries to seem nonchalant.

You promptly sneeze, and Steve can't help but look wide-eyed at Thor with a semi-panicked expression.

You rub your nose and laugh, a bit stunned — only to find that Steve and Thor are looking at you like you've got three heads.

For a moment, you wonder if maybe you've got something in your teeth. Or maybe the margarita Natasha made has turned your mouth an artificial cherry color. But, no. You see why they're staring when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the elevator's mirror. It opens and reveals a perplexed Scott Lang. Behind him, you see your reflection.

(Scott always looked kinda confused. Nothing new there.)

As the doors close, you realize that all the hairs on your head are standing up straight.

Waiting for a lightning strike.

You laugh — as bright as the sun in the midst of a storm — and Thor swears it will be the death of him.

"Relax, Thunderdome," you chirp, nudging his arm, "We gotta work on the static build-up."

Ha. Right.

Static.

Friction.

No — no, no, no, no don't go there.

Thor musters up a nervous smile.

"Totally."

(Y/n)'s hands rattled, her keys clacked like bells, and his eyes. Those eyes watched her. Remembering every detail. The curve of her face, the length of her hair. It was intriguing. What kind of mortal would worship him?

Why would one so beautiful choose him? Of all the Gods in Asgard?

The door slid open, dark things entered the trickster's mind. Imagining this perfect stranger in nefarious positions. Open for his taking.

Would she be so interested?

The click of the door was just enough time for Loki to make a decision.

"(Y/n)" he name danced off his lips.

In an effort to share the feeling, he gently grasped her before pressing his lips against hers. They melted against one another, her arms wrapping around his neck humming with delight as they shared a deep kiss.

He only stopped kissing her when he realized once again she was mortal.

"Yes, this will do nicely," Loki said darkly.

"You wanted to see your alter,"

(Y/n) touched her lips absently, then wrapped her arms around her middle. It felt as if her organs were going to spill from her plush body.

The table sat in her bedroom, she placed the rock perfectly before backing away to await his approval. Loki looked over the trinkets, snakes, gold, greens, and blacks. Herbs. Water. Even a small plastic dinosaur joined the ornate items.

"Is it to your liking?" she asked.

His emerald eyes made her feel as if she was lost in the darkest forest.

"It's missing one thing," he pinched his chin between his finger and thumb. "Yes, just one,"

His grin was almost evil. Loki's hand landed on her hips, picking her up with as much effort as he would have to lift a child. He sat her down carefully onto the table, her eyes match that of a doe. Loki found her perfect, each curve filled her clothes just right.

"Yes, that is much better," he nodded, quickly approaching her. His lips engulfed her's and his slender fingers palmed the thickest part of her thighs.

Loki's icy lips pressed against her lips, down her jaw, and over her called bone. Nipping and sucking. (Y/n)'s breathing was heavy.

"Loki," she cooed.

"Let me have you," Loki whispered. "All of you,"

(Y/n) whimpered, his teeth grazed her earlobe.

"Yes," she hissed. "Please. I'll always be yours."

His fingers began to stripe each layer of clothing off of her body. He continued his ministrations, kissing and biting down her chest. Loki's eyes stared into hers as his teeth grazed over the pert nipple. He bit down gently, tugging before giving it a long suck. He flattened his tongue licking long and gently across the bud.

Then he stopped.

"Darling" he hissed. "Watch me while I pleasure you,"

(Y/n) hadn't any idea she was closing her eyes. They shot open from his demand, however.

His dark hair was soon between her legs, licking from bottom to top at first. Loki pauses, gripping her thighs pulling her so her ass was partially off the table. He locked her with his arms in place, the fabric of his suit gently scraped against her thigh.

Loki slicked and sucked her pussy checking every so often she was watching what he was doing to her.

"Loki!" She shouted, cumming against his tongue. His tongue lapped against her once more, forcing a full-body twitch from her. Loki chuckled darkly, kissing her thick thigh and sucking. When he lifted his head a hard mark was left behind where hickey now laid.

"Beautiful," he whispered. He kissed the spot again. "Can you walk?"

Loki stood straight, tugging off his tie. Words couldn't be formed, she simply weakly nodded. (Y/n) stepped down, losing her footing but before she hit the ground Loki had steadied her.

"Lay on your bed," he demanded.

She did as she was told, laying comfortable. Loki pulled off his jacket and then shirt. Each part of his clothing melted off of him, revealing his slim body. He was hard and the tip was blushed, wet. Ready to take her.

The god climbed onto the bed on his knees, hovering above her. His large and thick cock pressed against her thigh but stayed far from her entrance. Instead, his thin fingers found her clit, squelching against her wetness.

"I bet you've dreamed of this," he kissed her, allowing her to taste the lingering flavor on her lips.

"Ah," she moaned.

"That's not a word, darling," his fingers shifted faster and harder against her clit. "Tell me,"

"Ah. Y-yes. I have," she admitted. Loki smirked, his fingers now gently danced over her clit.

"I'm going to fill you, be everything to you. I'm your only."

"My only?" (Y/n) whimpered, his fingers picked up the pace again. Her stomach knotted and coiled.

"Yes, I am going to keep you," he whispered into her ear.

She came again, on his fingers. With the wave of pleasure, Loki took the opportunity for mischief. His cock entered her as she spasmed from her orgasm.

(Y/n) moaned in surprise. "Loki!" she called.

Loki's hips slapped against her. His hips found their rhythm. Changing pace from slow to fast. Hard then soft. He was driving her insane. He filled her perfectly, not too large. Not too small. It was as if he was made to fill her.

His thumb pressed against the already abused clit.

The sex was new and everything she never received before. The third time cumming was arriving.

"I'm going to fill you," he moaned.

His went faster and faster. He pressed her thighs and hips up going deeper.

"I'm not. But its the only idea I have." Thor responded with a glance back at Loki. Thor remained silent, but was surprised at the emotion on Loki's face as he stared at the back of your head.

You thought the meeting of Jane and Loki went well, and by that, you mean you smiled when she slapped him. Something you wanted to do, but could not find the strength for.

When Jane and Thor walked ahead of you, leaving you following, Loki fell in line beside you. There was a moment of tense silence before he spoke softly, with a sparing glance at you. "It's good to see you Y/n."

You did not look at him, but you felt his gaze burning into the side of your face. "I'm sorry I can't return the sentiment." You said coldly as you stepped a bit faster, lengthening the distance between you.

Loki felt his heart pang with guilt and hurt as you pulled even further away from him. And he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

- - -

"This is a horrible plan." You muttered as you watched the Dark Elves ship get closer.

Loki was beside you, Thor preparing Jane for what was about to happen. "Thor is notorious for coming up with bad plans." Loki muttered.

For a moment you felt yourself almost smile, as a familiar nostalgia rushed over you as you stood side by side. His shoulder was brushing yours and you were torn between two emotions that had been growing since you reunited. Anger, willing you to push him away, and the growing desire to embrace him and love him again as you once had.

You spared a glance at him, and almost flinched in surprise when you found him gazing at you. You locked eyes, and you felt a swell of pain flow through you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You said softly, your voice almost breaking.

He tilted his head ever-so-slightly as he held your gaze and spoke quietly. “Like what?” 

A look of sadness and hurt crossed your face, and he felt his heart break as you spoke. “Like you still love me.”

He held your gaze in silent shock before you turned and walked away from him. "Y/n-" He tried to stop you, but you continued on. He followed you with his eyes for a moment before he hung his head.

The worst part of all the decisions he made, was knowing how it would effect you. He regretted it the whole time, knowing full well he must have broken your heart. And when you never came to visit him in his prison, he knew he had lost you.

But he could not push away the hope, that maybe he was wrong. Maybe you still loved him. If his love remained throughout everything that happened, surely there was a chance yours did to?

- - -

You fell onto the ground beside Jane after Loki threw you to the ground. Looking up at Loki with shock, his eyes locked onto yours as he began to be pulled away from you into the black hole. Panic crossed your face as you began to stand, wanting to reach out to him, to save him.

As Thor flew by, tacking him to the ground, saving him, you fell back onto the ground in relief as you watched them roll to a stop. When he and Thor rose, Loki locked eyes with you for a moment.

He saw it, and you felt it. The fear of losing one another again. But pushing it away, you rose and began running to Thor's aid, to stop the Dark Elves from leaving. Suddenly, dark elves were surrounding both you and Loki.

After successfully killing them, you both looked to see Thor losing the battle with the corrupted elf. You ran to his aid as he was being beaten into the ground.

Loki got to him first and you watched as he stabbed the elf through the chest. You stopped in your tracks, watching as the elf turned to Loki. You felt your chest seize as panic took over. Suddenly the elf grabbed Loki and pulled him closer, sending the weapon straight through him.

The air was filled with your's and Thor's pained yells. You felt as though you could not move, as he said something to the elf, before a black hole grenade went off, and he disappeared.

Fining your legs, though as shaky as they were, you ran to Loki's side, and reached him just as Thor did. You both pulled him up, as you rested his head on your lap.

"You fool, you didn't listen." Thor said, voice filled with pain.

"I know. I'm a fool, I'm a fool." Loki spoke, his voice failing as his skin began to pale.

You felt tears well in your eyes as you held his head.

"Stay with me okay."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Loki's eyes passed between you and Thor as you both shushed him.

"It's okay, It's alright." Thor muttered. "I'll tell father what you did here today."

Loki stayed silent as he stared at Thor, before speaking softly. "I didn't do it for him."

His eyes moved up, and landed on yours and he tried to smile, and you saw a tear slide from his eye. "I'm sorry I betrayed you. You did not deserve it. And I never deserved your love. But please know, I never stopped loving you, you know. Never."

You forced a smile, as a tear fell from your face, landing on his cheek, and sliding down. You brushed it away with your hand as you spoke breathlessly. "I know. But it would be easier if you did."

He let out a soft dry laugh. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, before bringing your mouth next to his ear. You whispered softly. "I never stopped loving you either."

Lifting back up, you met his eyes and he attempted a small smile again. His body seized slightly, as his skin grew darker, he let out a ragged breath, before closing his eyes.

"No." You whimpered out, and Thor took a deep breath before yelling out a tormented cry. You rested your head against Loki's, as Thor pressed his face into his chest.

You remained a few moments more, before you both looked at one another, knowing you had to leave him here for now. You needed to stop the Dark Elves, no matter what.

Thor stood silently as he walked away, stopping beside Jane, who rested her hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

Looking down at Loki once more, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, before rising with a shaky breath.

Though your heart was breaking for the loss of love you thought you pushed away, you had to continue on. The fight was not over, you needed to be strong. For him, for Thor, for yourself.

You would win this fight, and you would do so with the knowledge that you were wrong. Loki did not lie to you. He loved you then, and he loved you now. You would never be able to fix what was broken between the two of you, so for now, that had to be enough.

xx End xx

Loki is down to try anything. And I mean anything. Almost nothing is off limits. He’s a God, so he’s down to mix it up.If you find something he hasn’t heard of, he’ll be very excited to try it.

Degradation/praise kink.  He loves to switch between teasing you and praising you in the bedroom. He’ll mock your mortality with small displays of his power and then call you a good girl when you do something he likes.

He’s definitely not opposed to using his powers to morph into others, if you want him to. If you like it, you’ll have to be the one to establish a code word so that he doesn’t just spring it on you.

One day, you’d learn not to visit New York. Your first time to the city, there ended up being an alien invasion and you’d been through months of therapy since. You get up the courage to visit the City again and now an extremist group was attempting to claim buildings and overtake the Avengers.

In the way of selfish human beings, the evacuation had been anything but calm and you’d been jostled and knocked aside, landing on your leg and hearing a faint crack. Between the panic and noise, no one noticed you still on the floor and eventually you were left alone. Of course.

You make it down two flights of stairs -why’d you need to go to this department so bad anyway?- before you can’t hold yourself up anymore. You situated yourself enough so that the pain in your leg was only a dull throb and kept trying to use your phone to reach an emergency line, to no avail. You’re not entirely sure how long you’d been laying there, alternately yelling for help and accepting your doom, when a not-so distant explosion rocks the building. Despite your attempt at calming yourself, you could feel true terror boiling up.

That feeling was only amplified when you hear a window in a level above shatter and a loud thud as something - or someone?- lands.Even higher beyond that, you hear more noise, more mechanical. You hear only one set of footsteps bounding down the stairs. You’re not sure what to expect - someone coming to kill you? A terrorist trying to escape? The man that emerges is not anything you’d expected. Thor, of the Avengers, his face slightly pulling in concern.

“You are not meant to be here.” He says. As if you’d decided to just hang out.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You hiss back at him, flinching as another explosion shakes the building. Any other time you’d be intimidated by the large, handsome man but right now was certainly not the time for you to be fussed at.You could hear fighting above. A slow, wide grin appears on his face.

“I believe I may be your soulmate.” Thor says. You glance at him again, mouth half open to snap at him again, brain slowly processing his former words. He approaches you slowly, giving you a once-over. “You’re injured?”

“Y-yeah, my leg.” You answer, still bewildered. “How did you even know I was down here?”

“Friday said there was another heat signature down here, we wanted to make certain all civilians were safe.” Thor answers, kneeling down and testing your hurt leg. You make a slight choking noise when he brushes against your knee and Thor frowns. “Were you left here?”

“Ah, well, there was a stampede basically and I can’t really get down the stairs.” You reply. Thor’s face is a flurry of anger and calculation, before he reaches up, activating his earpiece.

“Yes, I found them. No, just one, they’re-” Thor pauses, glancing at you and a grin breaking out across his face. “They’re my heart’s chosen.” You can almost hear the response from your position on the floor, your face aflame even as Thor winces at the noise in his ear.

He says something else into the earpiece but you don't catch it over the sound of rumbling and fighting from above. Thor catches your scared expression and kneels back to your side.

“Would you permit me to pick you up, my lamb?” He asks and you manage to nod before he sweeps you up, holding you effortlessly against him. Even with the careful way he’s holding you, your leg pulses in pain and you find the breath knocked out of you. You wince, flinching into his chest and Thor frowns, making sure to hold you as if you were porcelain.

Flying through the air would probably have been more exhilarating if you hadn’t been injured and fearful for your life, during a bad guy invasion.

“Here.” Thor says as he lands. You manage to pry your eyes open and are astonished to find yourself on the ledge of the Avengers Tower. “Friday has alerted a physician to your injuries, they’re waiting to look at you.”

“Is it even safe here?” You ask. Thor carries you through the door where, indeed, a young professional-looking woman is waiting. He gives you a considering glance as he sets you down on the couch, the woman immediately stepping up to take a look at you.