Ways I Show a Character Is Deeply in Love (and Doesnât Realize It Yet)
Falling in love doesnât always come with violins and kissing in the rain. Sometimes it looks like, âWhy do I know their coffee order, favorite pen, and dogâs birthday?â
They remember everything. Not because theyâre trying to flirt. Just because their brain decided, âThis personâs data is important now.â
They get annoyed by other people talking to them. Why are you laughing at their joke? Heâs not even funny.
They show up. For dumb things. Things they wouldnât normally care about. Your catâs vet appointment? Theyâre there.
Their body reacts before they do. Smiling before their brain catches up. Leaning closer without realizing. Looking at their mouth while they talk. Oops.
They pretend theyâre just "helping out." You know. Just being a good friend. A good friend who stares at your texts like theyâre holy scripture.
They get flustered when the other person flirts with anyone else. âIâm not jealous. I just⊠think they deserve better. Like someone emotionally mature. Who knows their coffee order. Who⊠wears this hoodie. Okay bye.â
They panic when the other person gets too close. Not because theyâre scared of them. Because theyâre scared of how much they care.
The narrow hallway forced me to press against the wall, shoulder brushing old, peeling paint. I could hear Joelâs boots behind meâsteady, deliberateâand then I felt it: his hand on my hip. Just a touch, firm and grounding, a silent way of saying Iâm coming through.
I shifted, trying to make space in the tight passage, but there wasnât much room. My back bumped into himâhips brushing hisâand I froze. His breath hitched, just enough for me to hear it, and I felt the heat between us crackle in that instant.
Neither of us moved.
The air went heavy, thick with something unspoken. His hand lingered a beat too long, thumb tracing a barely-there line at my waist. I didnât dare look back. I wasnât sure what Iâd see in his eyes.
His breath was on my neck nowâwarm, ragged, too close. The hallway suddenly felt suffocating in the best kind of way. I didnât move. Couldnât. His hand slid from my hip to my waist, fingers curling slightly as if testing the boundary between patience and surrender.
âYou keep backinâ into me like that, darlinâ,â he muttered low, voice thick like smoke, âand I ainât gonna be able to keep my damn composure.â
The gravel in his voice sent a shiver through me. He pressed closer, chest flush against my back now, and I could feel just how much tension heâd been carrying. Weeksâmonthsâof close calls, long nights, too many things left unsaid. It all lived in that space between us, in the pressure of his body behind mine.
âIâve been tryinâ to be good,â he said, voice husky, lips near my ear. âBut you make it real hard.â
His hand trailed lower, possessive without being rough, and I let out a breath I hadnât realized I was holding. My body betrayed me, pressing back into him, needing the contact as much as he did.
Joel groaned, low and guttural, like the sound had been caged in him too long. âYou donât know what youâre doinâ to me,â he said, and there was a kind of ache in his wordsâlike heâd been starving, and I was the first real thing heâd had in a long time.
He turned me slowly, pinning me gently but firmly against the wall. One of his hands braced beside my head, the other still gripping my waist like he couldnât let go.
âTell me to stop,â he murmured, gaze locked on mine, wild with need but still waitingâfor me.
But stopping was the last thing on my mind.
I didnât say a word. Didnât need to.
My silence was permission enoughâand Joel took it. He leaned in, catching my mouth with his, and it wasnât soft. It was raw, aching. Like heâd been holding back for too long and didnât know how to be gentle anymore.
His hand slid into my hair, the other gripping my hip like he was grounding himself. His kiss tasted like desperation, like the bite of whiskey and the wear of too many nights gone without comfort. When he pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against mine, his chest rising and falling like heâd just run miles.
âYou feel this too, right?â he asked, voice rough. âAinât just me?â
My answer was in the way I reached for himâfingertips brushing over the coarse fabric of his shirt, the heat of his chest, the muscles pulled tight beneath. I tugged him closer until there was no space left between us, just skin and tension and years of unspoken want.
Joel growled low in his throat, his restraint hanging by a thread. He moved his hands slowly at first, reverently, like he was relearning touchâlike this was sacred somehow. His fingers slid under my shirt, calloused palms mapping every inch like he needed to remember it.
âYouâre gonna ruin me,â he whispered into my neck, his breath warm and ragged. âBeen so damn long⊠forgot what it felt like to need someone this bad.â
His hands roamedâfirm, intentionalâgripping, stroking, coaxing me into his rhythm. Every motion came with heat, pressure, a promise. He kissed down my throat, along my collarbone, as if memorizing me piece by piece.
We moved together slowly, but it wasnât gentleâit was urgent. Like two people who had waited far too long and finally couldnât hold back anymore. He guided me with his body, his voice in my earârough commands, sweet nothings, every word dripping with hunger and the need to feel alive through me.
He made me feel seen. Owned. Wanted.
And when it finally brokeâwhen the tension snapped and he came undone with a low, guttural sound buried in my shoulderâit wasnât just release.
It was relief.
Like heâd finally found something real again in a world that had taken so much.
Tags: Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension
Summary: You are a servant working under Ego's wing for a few years. You wanted a way out, but could find no way that didn't result in him killing you. That is until the day Ego had located his son, Peter Quill, who also could harness his abilities. With that in mind, perhaps there was a way out, someone who could contend with a celestial. Hope was finally in sight, and Quill was the key.
Chapter Summary: Arriving on Ego's planet, Ego has a task for you that heavily involves Quill.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Smut/adult stuff
MINORS GO AWAY
LEAVE THIS PLACE AND GO READ SOMETHING ELSE >:[
Thanks! :))
SUMMARY:
While you are gone, Nero gets well acquainted with your new room.
BEGINNING NOTES:
đïžPerverse/Horny Nero x G/N Reader
đ§žUn-established relationship
đïžNero (pillow) masturbation
đ§žMentioned reader masturbation; implied bottom--or at least likes to have things âinsideâ (that sounds horrible lmao, youâll see what I mean)
đïžNeroâs scent kink is really strong here
đ§žNero and the reader just moved into a house together; as âroommatesâ.Â
==
     Nero bit his lip in excitement as he stared into the room. He knew that this was obscenely perverted; that this would undoubtedly get him in trouble but he couldnât resist. With a slow lean back out of the doorway, he looked to his left then his right, surveying the hallway. You werenât home--you weren't going to be for another few hours, but he couldnât be too cautious. What if you came home and saw what he was doing? Youâd most definitely move out and, probably, beat the living hell out of him for this.Â
     But the unyielding flame inside him was overwhelming and he couldnât help-- no, he needed to satiate this lewd hunger building inside him.
     The young hunter walked into your partially unpacked room. It had only been six days since the two of you had begun to move in and you had been rather busy with contracts lately; leaving Nero to do most of the sprucing up of the cozy abode. As he stood over your bed his teeth pierced through his lower lip and his own blood began to fill his mouth and dribble down his chin. Slowly he began to palm his growing excitement. His eyes fluttered shut as he took a deep breath, replaying last nightâs events in his mind.Â
     The quiet mewls of your erotic delight were followed by the soft squishing wet sounds of whatever toy or fingers you had been using. On the other side of the wall was the living space, the place Nero was currently painting. He couldnât help but listen in, placing his ear flush against the unpainted surface. His cock was hard as ever and he touched himself in rhythm with your own playtime, listening to the bed creak from your rapid movements.Â
     The sounds of your unintelligible gibberish when you encroached on your orgasm. Your muffled whimpering cry as you reached your peak pushed Nero over the edge causing him to make a mess all over his hand and jeans. As he stared at the fluid that decorated his own skin he couldnât help but yearn for it to be your skin instead or, better yet, to be inside you. As quick as possible, he scrambled to the bathroom to clean his hand and then scurried off to his room to get new pants. When you asked why he changed clothes, he simply claimed to have âspilled paintâ on himself; unable to even look you in the eye without risking getting hard.
     Admittedly this wasnât the first time Nero had done something like this; something so unspeakably immoral and filthy. The young man has stolen your clothes so many times that heâs forgotten how much heâs soiled with his lust.Â
     At first, it was an accident. You'd come over to his previous home--a small one-bedroom apartment--and youâd left your lightweight hoodie on the couch. Nero picked it up and was going to place it by the door, so he could take it back in the morning but he stopped. Without thinking he put the fabric up to his nose and took a slow deep inhale, a dangerous smell of your soap and a light smell of sweat lingered on the coat. Your scent drives him up the wall usually but within the privacy of his own home, it did so much more. For a brief moment, he realized what he was doing was weird but that quickly passed. Nero didn't even leave the living room before he had his dick out and was beating it, your hoodie still held up to his face.Â
     Right before he finished, laid it on the couch, and came on it, fantasizing that it was you. The young man had never cum so hard in his life; which was then surprisingly followed by a few more rounds all of which were layered upon the soiled jacket. After a much-needed wash, he returned it to you. He remembers the guilty arousal he got when he watched you put it on, knowing he'd splattered it senseless.
     Nero opened his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself. When he remembers that first time, he ends up getting overly excited and cumming way too fast. Taking a short break from groping himself, he unhurriedly walked over to a shirt you'd discarded on the floor and picked it up.
     The teal devil held the fabric to his nose and moaned lowly, this only added more fuel to the out-of-control lust within him. He wants you. He needs you.Â
     A growl of frustration came from his throat as he returned to your bed. Quickly, he grabbed your body pillow and slid your shirt over it. Then he mounted your bed, hips straddling the plush-filled fabric. All the while he was imagining it was you instead.Â
     He put the hemline of his shirt into his mouth and unbuttoned his jeans. A small shake appeared in his hands as he closed his eyes and slowly palmed his cock tent. In his mind, he was imagining all the perverse things heâd do to you if only given the chance to. As he pulled down his boxers, he finally let go of his lower lip and let out a low groan.Â
     Bit by bit, he leaned down onto the pillow and wrapped his arms around it. Sluggish languid motions pushed his throbbing cock into the fabric. His eyes fluttered shut again as he took a deep inhale making his arms tighten further around the object. Although he had only just started, he already had pre-cum dribbling from his cock and was smearing it against your inanimate sleeping companion. The idea that this very pillow heâs grinding against is one that bore witness and was right beside you during your playtime only made him want to slam against it harder.Â
     Nero attempted to pick up the pace but found his jeans blocked said movement. Irritated, he got up off the bed and slid them off, and decided he might as well take everything off. Once repositioned on the bed, he leaned down and kissed the fabric. Nuzzling his head into his he began to thrust into it again.Â
     He laid on his side and wrapped his arms and legs around the pillow, grinding harder and quicker. Neroâs nails dug into the shirtâs fabric, unknowingly tearing it. Loud unfiltered moans and grunts came from the teal devil as he buried himself deeper into the fabric.Â
     Carefully he bit into the fabric and began to chew on it slightly. His legs tightened even further, wrapping as tightly as they could. As his thrusts began to speed up, he found himself moaning your name; calling out for you. He turned over and pinned the pillow beneath him, sliding in a flat kneel--his inner thighs hitting the mattress and object of his lust.Â
     He laid his head against the side of it, acting as if it were your head, as his pace became brutal. Another pathetically desperate round of moans came from him, grasping at the cotton-filled fabric that he wished were you instead. As he felt himself coming to his peak, he moved his head and placed his forehead where he envisioned yours to be.Â
     A very finite amount of sweat decorated his body and brow, making his hair flatten a bit and stick to his skin. He felt as if his body were on fire and felt something much more feral fill his limbs as he fucked into the captive fabric. Nero had a strong urge to Trigger--to really let himself go and to ruin the plush; but he fought it, knowing that youâd find out if he did.Â
     He let out a few sputtering heavy breaths and grunts as he shot his load against both the pillow and your shirt. His breath hitched as he felt his cock twitch in sinful released delight. Several ropes of thick cum spurted onto the pillow and shirt as he gently played with his tip to ride his high just a little longer. A small content sigh left his lips as he placed a gentle kiss against the pillow and smiled. As he leaned upwards, his breathing was heavy and he realized he was still rock hard, standing at attention.Â
     âN-Nero?!â
     A sudden hot mortified feeling encompassed his face. Nero should've covered himself up-- should've apologized-- should've done something-- but he just sat there, frozen, staring at the wrinkled and tainted pillow beneath him. Completely petrified.Â
     You swallowed hard as an odd lust began to creep into your mind. Nero and you were both frozen at the situation. Admittedly, you wanted to be mad; to be upset that you leave for an hour and come home to find Nero cumming on your bed. However, you couldnât bring yourself to--at least, not right now. Right now all you could think about was joining the still-aroused devil.Â
     A small smirk pulled at your lips as you strode towards him, a small sway in your hips, and a certain heavy-lidded look in your eyes. Neroâs eyes slowly panned up to meet yours. Your smirk widened as you watched his cock twitch from your approach.Â
     Once at your bedside, you placed a hand on the far side of his face and turned him towards you. Neroâs lips were slightly parted and he went to speak but was quickly cut off by you placing your lips on top of his. The kiss was slow and passionate, you made sure that your intention was crystal clear as he moved his body to face yours. As you split apart from the kiss, you placed your hand around his burning dick, earning a surprised half-grunt half-moan from the red-faced young man.Â
     Still touching foreheads, you whispered against his lips, "You're quite the pervert; aren't you?"
     He swallowed hard and began to panic, "I'm sorry, I---"
     "Shh shh shh," your hand began to move in slow languid motions, earning another one of the sweet noises from the devil, "Don't apologize," you kissed him longingly, biting his lower blood-stained lip as you pulled your lips away again, "Next time just ask before you go and fuck my pillows," you leaned back and ran you hand slowly up his torso, resting it on the back of his neck, "Now, be a good boy," you leaned back in and placed a kiss on the side of his neck, feeling him tremble beneath you, "and show me what you have been wanting to do."
     Nero let out a shuddering breath and a very quiet "oh", feeling a chill run up his spine. It took a moment for him to recompose himself as he felt you place very soft kisses against his neck.Â
     When he was grounded back in reality, he flipped you over and pinned you underneath him. He returned the favor and began to run soft sweet kisses along your body. At the base of the side of your neck, mimicking the spot youâd been on him, Nero bit down hard. You arched into him and let out a low sharp gasping moan at the unexpectedly harsh move, feeling his teeth gently work a dark mark into your skin.Â
     After he was satisfied with the severity of the mark, Nero whispered to you in a husky sultry low voice, tickling the tender skin with his heavy hot breaths, "I hope youâre up for a long nightâŠâ He placed a long kiss against the side of your jaw, nipping at it slightly, âYou won't remember your name when I'm done with you."
==
ENDING NOTES:
I am probably going to do the same type of situation using Dante; he also seems like the type to do this kind of thing. It might be using a teddy bear or something though, idk. Regardless, this wonât be for some time. Currently, as of posting this and not counting this fic, I have 13 WIPs + 11 Requests (If you are wondering why the requests are still not open this is why lmao).Â
đïžđ§žđïž
==
Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)
â a/n: i thought this would be a lil cute thing to just leave on my acc, soooooo here take it bro
miguel was quite a complicated guy, many knew that much he's been through a shit load and he just always has a look on his face, a look like he really didn't have an interest in what anyone was saying.
to add it all up, he's a grumpy guy. a very grumpy guy it's a miracle if you ever make him smile. a few, especially peter b. and his baby daughter have tried countless times but he barely ever cracked a smile or a smirk even.
now for you, you could say you were somewhat closer to him than others. you were aloud to be around him more outside of working or any dimension crap that needed to be dealt with.
and even around you he'd barely crack a smile yet you found yourself to be quite a funny person, hilarious even. and put of all the attempts others have tried to make him even laugh have all failed. miserably.
though today was a boring day, there wasn't really much work to be done. some people were back home, and others just hung out like you, miguel, and jess had been doing.
but you were just staring into soace as miguel and jess had been doing there own thing until something you thought was a little funny popped into your mind.
"hey hey, miguel." he didn't turn around, but you knew he was still paying attention. "hm." "why do cannibals never eat clowns?" jess started to listen in a little as well wanting to see what you had to say.
miguel huffed a little continuing what he was doing, "why?" you started to laugh a little jus thinking about it, "because they taste funny." it was a small moment of silence before you heard a small chuckle, well thats what it sounded like to you.
"jess, was that you?" jess shakes her head, "my laugh ain't that deep." she answered already knowing who it was, and she slightly gestured her head to miguel.
"it was you!" miguel shook his head denying it, "no it wasn't, you're crazy." you scoffed hearing this, "i am not crazy, i heard you!" you start to scooch closer to him examining his face for a while,
there was no sign of any type of laughter really just his same straight face. "miguel i know it was you who laughed im not crazy," "nope." rolling your eyes you look back at jess than him, "deny it all you'd like! you know it was funny."
'course he did, if he wasn't all mysterious and scary looking he would have burst out laughing. "the joke was dumb, no one would have laughed at that." "but you did." he shook his head, "i did not."
he did. and he knew that. the joke was just really stupid. but like hell he'd ever admit that he laughed at it, even a little bit.
don't worry your a very funny person he laughed and he knows itttt @esthxio @gaybitchfx @secretivemessenger @reallyromealone / @rome-alone @vyloy @bloodyfennec @lostsomewhereinthegarden
All the writers leaving due to lack of interaction makes me really sad. Readers pls if you like something u read, pls pls pls reblog it or at least leave a comment or an anonymous ask to the writer talking about what you liked abt their fic. It only takes a moment but to the writer, it means a lot.
And to those who do reblog and leaves comments, you guys are amazing. Thank u for taking time to give feedback
âIt workedâŠâ Thorâs familiar voice sounded; he ran forward, gathering you in his arms, and muttered those words repeatedly. âIt actually worked.â
âThor?â you questioned, drawing back to look him in the eye; his hair was longer and messier, he had bags under his eye, and his beard was grown. His eyes, though, they were icier, icier than they should be, and his eyepatch partially covered a lightning-shaped scar that stretched from his chin up to his forehead. âWhat happened to you?â
Pairings:
Thor x Male!Reader
Tags:
Dark!Thor | Possibly Unhinged Thor | Reader Died and Was Brought Back To Life
Words: 1023
Author's Note:
I see a lot of Stephen and Wanda fics where they tear reality apart to get reader back, but like y'all are forgetting Thor, cause I mean, think about it, he would probably do the same or possibly even worse. Also, dark and unhinged Thor, is becoming one of my favorite things.
You donât remember dying, not fully; you remember the desperation in Thorâs eyes as the world faded around you. What you donât remember is resurrecting yourself, which begs the question, how exactly are you waking up in Asgard, of all places, without a scratch on you? Forget that; how is Asgard untouched? The bed you woke up in is the exact same one you and Thor had, as is the room and every other detail of the realm you can see from the window. The servant who walks in looks like someone you think you know, but her eyes are icy, almost devoid, and when you reach out to touch her, sheâs cold to the touch; a hint of something electrifying surrounds her. Her voice, though, is kind and warm, as though she is still alive.Â
The cold feeling doesnât stop there, and neither does the buzz of electricity around you; the servant suggests - rather desperately, you might add - that you don the suit laid out and eat the breakfast she brought. You glance down at yourself and note the burial clothes youâre wearing, you move to leave, but she blocks your path, âPlease, sire, at the request of his majesty, you are to eat and change; you may leaveââ
âWhere am I?â
âHis majesty requests youââ
âNo, I will do no such thing, whereâs Thor?â you ask, but she restarts her sentence again, âWhere is my husband?â You turn away when she does not answer, moving to the window, now glancing at the sunny day before you; you begin to notice the fading corners of this reality, the magic surrounding you in this dream is haphazardly glued together. You stretch your hands out in front of you, your magic twists out, and then turns to lightning, striking back at you so hard that you fly into the wall on the other side of the room.Â
âOh dear, are you alright, your highness?â
You rub your head, wincing at the pain, âIâm fine; I just wasnât expecting such a reaction.â When you moved back to the window, there was a hole in the sky; from it, you spotted nothingness, no stars, no planets, just nothing. It closed back up in a flurry, and you found yourself waking again in the same bed as if the day restarted; the same servant walked in through the door, though this time, she did not speak, instead directing you to the suit and breakfast. Not one to be dissuaded, you instead turned back to the same window and jumped right out of it; you fell fast, the wind rushing past you; before you could touch the ground, a flash of lightning struck, arms wound around you, and then you woke up again.Â
When the servant walked back this time, you grabbed her, shaking her as you made your demands. She shook her head, eyes wide, âPlease, sire, his majesty requests you eat and change and meet him in the throne room.âÂ
âFuck that,â you ran past her then, the guards, and everyone else you passed. The halls twisted, bringing you back to your room; when that grew irritating, you decided to make your way, decimating one of the walls, until you fell through into the throne room. Unlike the rest of Asgard, the throne room was as desecrated as youâd last seen it; in the center was some contraption, and a pillar of light descended into it from the hole in the ceiling. And standing, well hunching before it, was a figure; when they turned, you heard a gasp.
âIt workedâŠâ Thorâs familiar voice sounded; he ran forward, gathering you in his arms, and muttered those words repeatedly. âIt actually worked.â
âThor?â you questioned, drawing back to look him in the eye; his hair was longer and messier, he had bags under his eye, and his beard was grown. His eyes, though, they were icier, icier than they should be, and his eyepatch partially covered a lightning-shaped scar that stretched from his chin up to his forehead. âWhat happened to you?â
He didnât reply, instead hiding his face in your neck and hugging you tight. From your position, you spot more; bones surround the area, and discarded weapons lay everywhere; when you draw back from Thor again, there is a desperate madness in his eye. âYou didnât change? Did you eat?â
âNoââ
He grows angry, snapping his fingers; the servant girl appears before you, and when Thor demands an explanation, she divulges into a series of pleads. His arm rises in the air, white lightning strikes around her neck, and she struggles to breathe, her hands move to grapes it away, but she winces when she is burned by it. You reach out to stop Thor, but the lightning burns your hand; at the sound of your cry, he ceases, turning all his attention back to you. âI hurt you, no, no, no, Iâm sorry, Iâm sorryâŠâ he apologizes repeatedly.Â
Your hand goes from burning hot to cold, then normal again when Thor grasps it softly; when you reach out and touch his face, the same cold and buzzing feeling is there, and your eyes widen. When you move to step back, he clutches onto you, âPleaseâŠdonât leave meâŠnot againâŠ.â
âAgain?â you question, âI donât understandâŠhow am I here, Thor? I died, the god killer took my lifeâŠhow am IâŠâ the realization hits you when he looks away guiltily.
âI had toâŠhe took you away from meâŠI couldnât live without you.â
âThor, what did you do?â
He whimpers, âPlease donât leave meâŠ.please.â He falls to his knees, clutching your legs with desperation. When you get down to his level, tears are falling from his eye and lightning-shaped marks creeping on his skin; you hold his head, ignoring the electric shock you receive; he begs again, and you nod reluctantly.
âOk, darling, I wonât leave, but you have to tell me, what you did, ok? What price did you pay to get me back, ok?â He nods, diving into your arms; you stroke his hair, and the chill around you creeps away as Thor holds you tight.
End Note:
Look, the idea of Thor being unhinged and desperate to have Reader back is something I think we should get more of in fics. And yes, I gave Thor back his eyepatch, because no one can stop me.
I'm sorry if I'm requesting a lot đ but can you do a Thor x Black Male Reader? Reader is a new intern at Stark industries and is super shy and he meets the infamous God Of Thunder and Thor is just super flirty?
Lord Have Mercy
Summary:
Thor Odinson. How does one encapsulate the majesty that is Thor Odinson? Some had called him handsome, others a dream hunk; personally, youâd call him that and more. And flirty. Youâd also call him flirty, very, very flirty.Â
Pairings:
Thor Odinson x Black Male!Reader
Tags:
Intern Reader | Flirty Thor | Shy Reader
Words: 1019
Author's Note:
Before we begin, let's all take a moment to thank Taika Waititi for the Taikafication of Thor, because that was without a doubt one of the best things to happen to the MCU. And there is no such thing as over requesting.
Thor Odinson. How does one encapsulate the majesty that is Thor Odinson? Youâd heard many people talk about him, more so once you joined Stark Industries - the general work populace seemed to have some form of interaction with him one way or another. Some had called him handsome, others a dream hunk; personally, youâd call him that and more. And flirty. Youâd also call him flirty, very, very flirty.Â
Heâd arrived looking for Tony, and youâd been the first person he saw, so obviously, you agreed to show him where Tony might be. The elevator had seemed like a good idea, but now standing so close to him - not that you had to, the god didnât seem to have a grasp on personal space - you regretted not chancing the stairs.Â
âYou appear nervous.â
You turned to him, hands fumbling in front of you, âMe? No, Iâm not nervous.â
âAre you sure?â He asked you, taking one of your hands in his; he moved it towards himself, placing a kiss on it, his eyes locked on yours, âIâd be more than happy to help settle any nerves you may be having.â
The familiar ding of the elevator sounded, and Thor winked; he exited the elevator with a slight laugh; you watched him, hand still in the air. That was not the only encounter you had with Thor; no, sometime later in one of the printing rooms, he stumbled across you. Stumble is a generous word; he more or less found you, then plastered himself by your side and watched as you performed one of the most tedious jobs imaginable. âThis isnât exactly the most entertaining thing in the world, you know?â
âAll the more reason for me to be here,â Thor responded, âWho else shall take the task of basking in your beauty?â
You tried to concentrate on your task, but Thorâs words and cheeky smile made you pause and laugh a little. âOh, Iâm notâI meanâreally, Iâm justââ
He tilted his head, âBreathtaking? Gorgeous? Forgive me for coming so quickly to such conclusions, but one does not come across a being as stunning as yourself every so often,â he stated bluntly.
If you werenât shocked before, you were now; Thor remained resolute with his words; he looked ready to say more but didnât as he was called away, parting from you with a smile. You returned to your desk with prep in your step; not long after you were graced with the godâs presence again, he stole a chair from elsewhere, turning it around to settle his arms and head on the backrest. He placed his hammer beside him and swung his legs as he made idle chatter with you. âHow does it feel to be so handsome?â
You chuckled, âYou already used that one.â
âDid I? Maybe I need a kiss to jog my memory.â
You bit your lip, scratching the back of your neck; you glanced away from him to try and form some kind of response. Thor took one of your hands from you before you could cover your face again, his thumb rubbing circles as he gazed into your eyes again. âThorââ
âA moment, Iâm lost in your eyes.â
You blinked, then blinked again when he winked, âYou canât just say things like that.â
âWhy not?â
âWeâWell, because I donât know how to respond,â you remarked. Thor chuckled, âIâm serious, now shoo, I have work to do,â you told him, as sternly as you could, half a smile on your face, âgo on then! Shoo!â He pouted, and you sighed, âOk, just let me do this, and I'll see you at lunch in a few hours, ok?â He perked up, nodding enthusiastically, and he rushed off to the merry laughter and curious glances of your coworkers around. When lunch came around, Thor awaited you outside Stark Industries, his arm held out for you.Â
âSo, where to my sweet prince?â Thor asked.
âOh, wellâŠIâm not too sureâŠwhat do you like to eat?âÂ
Thor shrugged, âI am most familiar with shawarma, although I wouldnât mind a taste of you for lunch.â Thank goodness Thor had you in his arms because those words caught you by surprise; you tripped - quite gracefully - and nearly fell on your face. Amused by your reaction, Thor carried on, âUnless, of course, youâd instead save yourself for dessert, I wouldnât mind either way.â
âThor!â
âIf youâd like me to be silent, I only ask for a kiss,â he told you.
âEven if I kissed you, you wouldnât stop.â
âTrue, but at least then Iâd have tasted the nectar of the gods.â At this point, heâd moved you both away to somewhere slightly secluded, his hand titled your chin upwards, âIf you are displeased with the idea, I wonât coerce you into it; otherwise, Iâd very much like to feel the sweet touch of your lips.â You meekly nodded.Â
Thor gently took your face in his hands, pulling you close; he stroked your cheeks; there was almost a moment of hesitation, then he moved forward, his lips connected to yours, and your hands went to pull him closer as your senses narrowed down to just him. Your arms settled around his shoulders and neck, his hands traveled to your waist, and soon enough, there was barely any space between the two of you. You broke apart from him when you felt something wet fall on your head, the weather had changed, a light drizzle had begun, and Thorâs proud little smile was enough to tell you why.
âReally?â You laughed, âAll that for a kiss?â
Thor pecked you lightly, âI told you, the nectar of the gods.â He moved close to your ear, âIf you think that impressive, you should see what I can do in far more intimate situations.â He whispered, pecking your neck and squeezing your waist; he grinned when you gasped in response. âOff to lunch then?â He sidetracked, pulling you along as you grinned from ear to ear, butterflies in your stomach, and tried very hard not to think too hard about what Thor and in far more intimate situations.
End Note:
I low-key wish I could talk to people I liked half as well as I write flirty shit like this. Like damn, if only I was this smooth. Stay Hydrated.
m! surgeon! reader â 2.8k words â angst â unresolved ending â no romance â no it doesn't make sense that reader is a 25 year old surgical attending â go with it â i might make a short part 2 to this but honestly no promises since i still don't feel that great
"Have any of your memories come back?" I rubbed my temples, sighing into my words. It's been two months. Two months of the same question and the same answer. Two months of having to pretend the man sitting across from me on the other end of my desk was nothing more than my patient. Having to hold back my anger and choke back the lump in my throat, having to keep a straight face and make sure my tears wouldn't fall. Preforming the act that I wasn't robbed of the man I planned to spend my life with. And I was bitter. Because Bruce Wayne forced me to dig into my own boyfriend's brain for a bullet. And every day of these two months felt like forever of this never-ending nightmare. A nightmare Dick didn't have to know about. Not if I could spare him the guilt of not loving me anymore. He didn't have to know what had been taken from me, because I couldn't risk telling him and only getting him back because of how bad he'd feel.
"No." I wrote down in his chart. Patient still has no memory of anything after the age of 8. "Still a bit of a headache." I opened my mouth only for him to speak once more. "Dull, it's an ache. Not sharp, more like throbbing. Same as it's been. The medicine helps." We've been doing this every day. He knew the drill by now, and I'm sure he was getting sick of it just as much as I've beenâ albeit for different reasons. I needed to give him a break.
My persistence was of my own grief for him, not because I needed to check in with him every day. I just wanted to be close to him no matter how much it hurt, I wanted to hear his voice and see his face. I wanted to look into his eyes even though they couldn't recognize me anymore. I yearned for his smile, the softening of his gaze, the sound of my name as he held me. But the reality was just as bleak as the bareness of my office. There was nothing between us anymore. My eyes fell on my watch. "I'll have to cut our time short today, I hope you don't mind."
I left him in my office without waiting for him to leave first. I didn't care. I had other patients and I couldn't keep entertaining the idea that tomorrow or the next day Dick's memory would be any different. The halls were empty. Desolate. The white of the lights seemed to be a bit more blinding without any people to fill the open space. I hated this part of the hospital. The floor that no ordinary person knew of. The floor not listed on the buttons of the elevator stopped at. A floor just above the morgue, yet no one knew it was here. The space to save the very people who save us. I had a pager specifically for this floor alone, and that pager took priority even if I was in another surgery. Not out of favoritism, but because of the fact that Gotham would rot if it weren't for the vigilantes that took care of it. If I didn't drop everything and run to their rescue, then eventually there would be no one left for me to save.
The elevator stopped a floor before the one I needed to get off on, doors opening to reveal my very disheveled looking resident."I have Teddy's pre-opsâ I've been looking for you." She handed me the clipboard and stood next to me. I looked over each of the results, lifting page after page and studying each number carefully. "Where did you go?" I hummed, dropping the pages I was lifting and signing off on the chart.
"Lunch." My response was curt, and my walk out of the elevator was brisk as she struggled to catch up to me. "I need you to go make sure the O.R. is prepped and page Dr. Jha in peds, tell her we're going to be starting the surgery soon and I'd like it if she were to try to check in every so often." She was still following me even after I told her what I needed her to do. "Did you have a question?"
"Can I scrub in?" My brows furrowed at the question. I forgot to tell her she was allowed to scrub in. I've been so wound up that I've been forgetting the common decency to communicate more than just what is needed.
"Yes, of course, I'm sorryâ I thought I had asked you already." I felt embarrassed, but she left without any sense of humor so I guess she didn't mind. "Hello, Teddy!" I painted a smile on my face as I walked into the room. "How are you feeling?" I made my way to the side of his bed. His parents had a look on their faces that I knew all too well. "Bad night, kid?" My gaze fell back to the boy as he nodded weakly.
"He couldn't sleep at all. He's in so much painâ" Mrs. Maxwell's voice broke, and I knew better than to let her son watch his mother cry. I led both parents outside the room and closed the door. The gentle click of the knob was what broke the woman into a sob. "help our son, please." The desperation of a parent was one thing that could always rip me apart when I heard it. Being able to do nothing to save the life you gave a part of yourself to nurture. I couldn't imagine the pain of having to deliver your son's future into the hands of someone like me. Having to trust I wouldn't ruin his endless possibilities.
"That's the plan." My voice gentle, assuring. "It's his brain. Any number of things could go wrong, and I know we've talked about this beforeâ but there's a reason the past three surgeons turned you guys away." I tried my best to stay assertive. I needed to prepare them for the worst because lying to them would do no one any good. There was a 90% chance their child was going to die on the table.
"He has three months, Dr. L/n. He can't spend the last few months of his life like this," Mr. Maxwell whimpered his words. Completely defeated. "even if that means today's his last." The pain in his voice burned my ears. Hurt my heart. Listening to voices that dripped with grief was never an easy part of the job.
"I'm going to do absolutely everything I can, do you hear me?" My brows were furrowed, face tensed. I was determined regardless of how unsure I was. "I'm gonna go talk with Theodore about the procedure, see if there's anything I can do for him before we take him to surgery." I pat the two on their shoulders and opened the door, turning to face them once more. "It wouldn't be a bad idea to say your goodbyes before we go." They followed me into the room and I could hear the exact moment our demeanors changed. They stopped crying instantly, and the idea that they've had the practice to do that made my chest feel heavy. "Hey buddy, you ready to get rid of that headache?" He could only hum.
"He stopped talking a few days ago." I realized only then that three months was being generous. We might be too late.
My pager beeped at the worst possible time. The pager that I'm not allowed to ignore was something I needed to, regardless of the fact it kept beeping. "I need you to grab my phone and answer the call that's about to ring." I mumbled, focused on the life I was trying to save.
"There's no need," My gaze shot up to the gallery, Bruce speaking through the intercom. "How fast can you finish?" I sighed, eyes going back down to Teddy's head. I could hear the way everyone else was muttering. Shocked that I knew Bruce Wayne. Little did they know.
"I'm resecting a brain tumor out of a 5 year old," I was speaking as if he was an idiot. In a way I truly believed he was. "if I damage any part of his brain, he'll never walk again, talk again, never be able to hold anything in his hands or do things for himself." My work was precise as I continued. "One millimeter of the wrong movement and he lives a life of pain and dependence. Suction." As my resident placed the device, the suction tore loose an artery that had wrapped itself around the tumor.
"Oh god!" I sighed. "Oh my god, what do I do?" She was panicking. "Dr. L/n, what do I do?" I stayed silent for a bit, hoping she'd get a grip, but she didn't. There was no time to spare for a teaching moment.
"I can't move my hands or he'll die. Get out what you can and cauterize the bleeder." No matter how much blood she suctioned out, more still seemed to pool in its place. The blood was spilling faster than she could drain, and it wasn't something as simple as clamping it. If she couldn't see the artery, she could clamp a part of his brain. It was a bad situation. After just a minute his brain started to swell, the monitor began to beep in a panic of what was happening, and all I could do was watch. Watch as the little boy I promised a future to died. Listen as the monitor blared the continuous ring in my ears. I removed my tools carefully, placing them on the tray and sliding the top of my mask off. The air was heavy. Silence aside from the flatline. A sharp and jagged reminder of what we just lost. "Time of death," I looked at the clock with a sigh. "19:27."
My gloves were the first to go, then my gown, then my mask as I entered the scrub roomâ where Bruce was unfortunately waiting for me. I knew the shit that was going to come out of his mouth and I didn't need to hear it. I couldn't hear it. Not right now. "Dick'sâ" Upon hearing the name I dreaded, I shoved him.
"Will you fucking stop already?!" My scream echoed through the narrow walls of the room. "He doesn't know you! He's never going to know you!" All of the anger and the grief began pouring out of me. I couldn't stop it. The dam had already broken. "You made me cut my boyfriend's head open, Bruce!" All that was running through my mind was how it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that I got treated like some stone cold surgeon without feelings. It wasn't fair that I had to bury my feelings and treat him like a patient. It wasn't fair that Bruce acted like I didn't lose him too. "Have you thought for a fucking second that I don't want to hear about every little thing he does?" I pushed him again, my tears falling freely. "I can't care anymore! I can't careâ because if I do, I'm gonna be stuck here in this hell that you put me through!" I had to let Dick go. I had to leave him to be the person he wants to be. I couldn't do that if bruce wouldn't let me try.
His hands raised to my cheeks. I tried to back away, but he wouldn't let me. Bruce pulled me into his chest and none of the fight I put up would work on him. I realized he was just letting me shove him earlier, not that I was truly strong enough to knock him back. "I'll be in your office when you get a minute. We need to talk." With that he left.
There wasn't time to ruminate. I needed to go and inform Teddy's family. My glare pierced the staff who were staring through the window, and then it fell to my resident. She shrunk under my gaze and hurried into the scrub room while I began washing my hands of the filth I took part in. "I shouldn't have let you scrub in." She stayed silent. "That was an intern type of mistake you made in there." Even as I looked at her, her head stayed down. Focused on washing her hands. Avoiding the confrontation. "You're a fourth year intern. You're not suited for neuro if you can't have gentle hands. Especially if you can't act quickly and calmly." My tone wasn't angry. I wasn't mad at her, but I still sounded stern. The tumor was inoperable. There was no telling if I would have done something wrong if she didn't beat me to itâ but I couldn't say that. Not because of some ego or agenda, but because I knew she had the ability to be better. I had to force a lesson out of this. "A child is dead. He would have been alive if it weren't for you being in control of the suction. A child that could have had the most beautiful and extraordinary life, gone because you weren't careful."
Tears fell smooth against her cheeks. "What am I going to tell them?" I sighed and dried my hands, tossing her the towel when I was finished.
"You're not. The mistake started when I trusted you in my O.R. This was my fault from the beginning." I walked out and made my way to the elevator as she followed after me. "To be a surgeon, you have to want to be the best. You have to need to be the best." I pressed the button, waiting for the doors to slide open. "Not because you want to be better than everyone else." We walked in and I pressed the floor below us. "Not because you want the recognition." We walked off and made our way to the waiting area. "But because you want these people to shed tears of joy. Relief. Because you need to let the people you operate on see the rest of their lives. Because men and women and children are going to be handed to you by the people that love them, and those people are trusting you to give them back."
The moment the Maxwells saw us, they stood up and rushed over. The air of anticipation slowly becoming crushed by our silence as they read my face. It could have been the puffiness of my eyes, or perhaps just the look, but I knew they knew. "While I was removing the tumor, I found a substantial amount of fluid that had built up in Teddy's brain. It was the reason why he had stopped talking. As we drained it, I found an artery that wrapped itself around the tumor. The walls of the artery were weak, and when the pressure was relieved, the artery tore with the suction. He was gone in seconds." Mrs. Maxwell let out a wail, her husband gripping onto her so she wouldn't drop to the floor.
"Teddy's.... He's.." He couldn't process my gentle words.
"Teddy is dead." The disbelief seemed to lift from his face. Gasping for air like the oxygen had been forcibly removed from his lungs. His son was gone. My brows furrowed as he brought his hand out for me to shake, but I took his hand anyways. The hold was gentle.
âYou tried?â He sniffled and I nodded my head.
âMy hardest.â He pulled me into the hold he had with his wife, squeezing me tight and letting me go before I could return the gesture. âI'm so sorry.â I spoke just loud enough for them to hear me over their cries. There was nothing more for me to do. I had given them five grueling hours of anticipation and shattered their world all in one day.
I took my leave and headed to the elevator once more, and as the doors closed I flipped the switch that was on the back of the handlebar and waited. I just wanted to break down. Between everything that's happened today and the pure despair I've had to lay hidden from everyone else, my body felt like it was being crushed under the weight of it all. I was exhausted, and more importantly I was scared of the conversation Bruce wanted to have. Anything could be wrong. There was no reason Bruce would have paged me so many times and then looked for me himself if something wasn't. I made my way to my office the moment the doors opened. Perhaps it was my own fear that pushed me forward, but whatever it was, my pace was close to bursting into a full-on sprint.
He had been waiting for me, just as he said he would. Sitting patiently on the couch and reading one of the neurology books I had on my shelf. âMake it quick.â He shut the book and put it back.
âThey came back.â
likes and reblogs appreciated â sorry i hate adding unnecessary names because i don't want a name to match up with a reader on accident but it was unavoidable in this case. i hate my writing sorry. love u guys tho. requests are open for dc
if u dont acknowledge the fanfics u read, the writer wonât think anyone is actually taking the time to read their stuff, which makes our effort feel wasted and our passions feel worthless
Summary: After the events of Infinity War, The Reader and Thor attempted to mend their past to no avail. Theyâre in the Endgame now
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU)
Pairing: Thor x Reader
Warning: Readerâs death.
Extra(s): This is the Part Two to my previous Thor fic:Â The Last Roses
GIF Source
âSo...You need me to be there... Why?â Youâd spoken, eyebrow arched and keeping eye contact with Steve and Natasha.
âWell as acting director of S.H.I.E.L.D., we figured that youâd want to be there. To oversee this.â Natasha spoke.
Theyâd just finished explaining the plan that they had. To pull off some sort of time heist. All that after barging into the headquarters and demanding to speak to whoever was in charge.
âIt all sounds like some shit from out of a comic book. Again, what do I need to be there for.â
âSome shit out of a comic book? Youâve fucked a god before, Y/n. Howâs that for some shit out of a comic book.â Natasha crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.
âIt sounds like I should grab my coat.â You stood from your desk, cheeks burning red.
This is how you found yourself sitting in the back of a pickup truck with Professor Hulk and some sort of Talking Raccoon. The two of you were on the way to New Asgard. From what you could tell it was somewhere in Norway.
The ride up there had you thinking back to the day that you last saw Thor.
Youâd had one of the best nights of sleep of your entire career. Arms wrapped around the only boyfriend youâd ever had. The term having been used loosely, given the on-again-off-again nature of the relationship.
There was never really any other reason why the two of you separated so often except that the two of you had conflicting schedules for the most part. It gets kind of hard trying to schedule dates and meetups when thereâs always some sort of crisis. Whether it was on earth or on a completely different planet entirely. It didnât exactly help that you couldnât go with him to Asgard.
A groan came from your lips. Expecting a grumble or a shuffle in response, instead, you received silence. Opening your eyes, there was a bundle of sheets where the God shouldâve been.
âI donât know why I expected it to be different this time.â You spoke aloud to no one in particular. With a sigh, youâd rolled out of bed and entered the kitchen, the first thing you had noticed was the missing vase.
In place of the said vase was a crudely written note.
â Dear, Y/n
Iâm needed elsewhere.
Thor. â
Some note. You scoffed at the words and rolled your eyes. The nerve of that man.
Youâd prepared your breakfast and waited for the entire day for the god to return. Hopefully, the two of you could finally bunker down somewhere and actually start a relationship.
But he never came back. Not for the entire five years.
On the ride up there you saw the most beautiful field of flowers. It spanned for miles. âHey, Banner. Watch this.â You smiled as you grabbed the smallest pebble, and threw it into the field.
Just as you expected, it exploded out into a brilliance of colors.
âWoah... Iâve never seen anything like that in my life. Where did they...â
âTheyâre native to Asgard. Weâre close.â You cut him off, sighing softly and staring off into the field
âYou sure itâs a good idea to bring him? I heard that he and Thor had a rocky past.â Rocket asked, being cautious enough to whisper.
âWhat? No, Y/n and Thor are perfect for each other,â Bruce waved his larger hand. âIâm sure theyâll be happy to see each other again.â
Ten minutes later, you were standing in the little fishing town of TĂžnsberg New Asgard.
âValkyrie!â Banner exclaimed happily.
The woman looked at You and Rocket briefly before greeting the green giant.
You had different plans. This was supposed to be, by no means, a get-together. You crossed your arms and with a huff, you waited for the two to catch up.
After all, if it was indeed a working time machine, then whatâs the rush?
âHeâs over there. He only comes out for his... refills.â Valkyrie gestured to the large building behind her and to the large brown barrels and boxes labeled BEER
âSo what? Heâs an alcoholic now?â You scoffed, counting the pile of boxes. âI thought you guys couldnât get drunk off of Midgardian alcohol.â
âSo did I, until he started buying them by the barrel.â Valkyrie shrugged, going back to whatever she was doing.
You took this as your cue to leave the three behind, being the first to enter the man cave of a building. You cringed at the stench in the place.
âJesus... smells like something died in here.â Rocket murmured, cringing as well.
You traversed through the narrow hallway, careful not to tip over the mountain of beer.
âThor!?â Banner yelled, his voice echoing through the home.
âAre you here about the cable?â The very changed man hadnât even bothered to see who it was, just gesturing to the black box. âItâs been out for days now...â
âHold on just a second. Did you just ask if weâre here to fix your damn cable?â Youâd asked incredulously.
âoh... Y/n!,â Thor finally turned to see who it was that entered his home. âAnd you brought the boys! How have you guys been?â He went over and motioned to hug you.
Youâd pushed his chest back. âDonât fucking hug me. Is this what you've been doing that was so damn important that you couldnât even wait to tell me?â
âOkay... maybe it wasnât a good idea to bring him.â Banner whispered to Rocket, watching as you began to scold the god.
Thor seemed to wince as you ranted and embarrassed him in front of his friends. âAnd what the hell is that smell? Did something die in here?â
âY/n... I can explain... Just calm down a second.â Thor smiled, taking you over to the couch and placing you between Korg and Miek. âWhy donât we talk about it over a beer...hopefully, youâre not in a rush?â The god proceeded to open the bottle with Storm Breaker, the weapon sitting by the television.
âWell, that depends on what you think a rush is...â Rocket started, mumbling to himself. Though, his voice was drowned out by your much louder tone.
âDonât tell me to calm down. I get to be mad at you.â Your voice jumped a few octaves as you rose from your seat. âYou left me for five years. Five fucking yearsâ
âI understand that Y/n, but I-â
âNo, I understand why you did it.â Youâd cut him off again. âWhat Iâm mad about is the fact that not once did you come back to check on me. Not once did you see how I was doing or try to explain what was happening with me.â Y/n paced back and forth, cracking their knuckles.
âY/n... I-â Thor started, licking his lips and shifting in his seat.
You took a deep breath, âThis is not the time nor the place for this...â You glanced at Bruce, knowing he could probably explain things much better than you could.
Taking the hint, he stepped up and cleared his throat. âWe didnât come here to catch up, Thor, we have a way to undo what Thanos did...â
âDonât... say that name.â Thor stood, grabbing a fistful of Bannerâs shirt.
-
Soon, you found yourself standing in the avengers compound. Everyone stood in front of you, wearing their red and white suits together.
âSo... you guys mean to tell me that all I have to do is press this button twice?â You asked, watching them go up to the platform.
âWell, yeah but its also itâs not that simple. You quite possibly have the most important job. You press the button once. Wait ten seconds Then bring us back by pressing the button again.â Tony explained. âYou see, we need you here because...â
Your eyes wandered up to the stage, finding Thorâs own. The exchange lasted only a few seconds before you faded back into the conversation.
âYeah, yeah. Whatever, Stark.â You slammed your hand down on the button, watching them disappear.
Youâd waited ten seconds and then brought them back.
âWelcome back. I trust you hand an enjoyable trip down memory lane?â You smiled, bounding up the stairs to greet them.
The thudding of Clintâs knees against the glass floor would never be forgotten. Nor the tears that were spilled. Not even the rage that festered and boiled.
Youâd been the first to leave after the news came. Clearing your throat, you broke the somber silence. âIâve got to go do something.â
Youâd quickly left, finding some random room to cry in.
The tears raced down your cheeks the minute you were out of sight. âThis wasnât the time to cryâ you would tell yourself. You had to pull yourself together. Though you said this, you still found yourself unable to get up from the bed.
A soft knock on the door.
âHey,â Thor said, running a hand through his locks. He hadnât known what to say. Especially since he knew that you werenât okay. âIâm, uh, still worthy.â He smiled briefly, twirling the hammer in his hand.
Youâd sat up to look him, though, after your initial glance, you couldnât bring your gaze back up to meet his eyes. Youâd barely managed to look at the hammer in his hand. âThatâs good. At least youâre still the King of Asgard. Yâknow, like officially.â Youâd sniffled, wiping your face before looking up to meet theÂ
âI think this would be the perfect time to explain myself... Hm?â Thor forced a smile, before letting his face fall.
âThis should be good...â His words brought your eyes racing to meet his own heterochromic ones.Â
âWell, I guess, to begin with... I never actually forgot about you... I know it sounds bad, but Iâm mad that I didnât forget. It would have made staying away easier for me..â Thor looked down at the hammer in his hand and twirled it absentmindedly. âI needed to move on... I still need to move on. I have to be what I was supposed to be. The King of Asgard and God of thunder.âÂ
Thor suddenly ceased the motion, the twirling stopping. Heâd gripped the handle so hard that his knuckles whitened. You were sure that if it was Storm Breaker in his hands instead, the war ax would have snapped under the pressure. âI tried so hard... but every time I close my eyes, I see him. I see him with my brotherâs lifeless body in his hands and sitting on his throne of corpses, laughing. Sitting atop all of the lives that heâs taken and laughing down at the man who let him do it.âÂ
âThor... Itâs not yo-â
âAll I see is how I failed in the past. The bodies of Heimdall and the rest of my people...â At this point, his voice began to croak and crumble... âAnd then I start to how I might fail in the future... I see him on his throne, stepping and sitting on the bodies of my comrades. Then he stands and grabs you by the throat and makes me beg for your life as he squeezes your last breath from your body.â Thor spoke it all within one breath. He gasped with a brief pause, eyebrows drawing together.
âI... I canât let him have you...â Thor looked up at you for the first time, eyes glassy and pink. âI won't let him have you," Thor bellowed, eyes cast back downward. "Not like everything else I love." He whispered the last bit.
You couldnât help but furrow your brows in both confusion and disbelief. âThor I can take care of mysel-â You placed a tender hand on top of his.
Thor wiped his nose on his fingerless glove before sniffling. âIâve made up my mind Y/n. Thereâs nothing you could say to change it.â Thor stood and walked towards the door. âThe gauntlet is almost ready. You should be there when it happens.â Thor left without so much as another glance.
It took a second for the SHIELD agent to recollect himself, from both the passive dumping of his on-again-off-again boyfriend and the death of his beloved friend.
You seemed to have walked in on the right moment because the most important question had been thrown into the air.Â
âWho is gonna put it on?â The talking raccoon asked.
âIâll do it.â Thor jumped at the opportunity to do the honors, taking long strides towards the glove.
âWoah, Woah, Woah, Point Break. Slow down a bit... Weâre talking about enough power to annihilate the entire universe here. Do you really think that itâs the best idea for you to handle it?â Tony stepped in, pressing a firm hand into Thorâs chest.Â
âObviously, Iâm the strongest avenger. Anyone else would die.â He insisted, grumbling. âJust standing here isnât going to fix anything. Just let me do it!â He hissed.
Everyone stood dumbfounded at the pleading tone that made its way into the room and the only thing that stopped him was your tenderly placed hand on his shoulder.Â
He stepped away and allowed Banner to take the glove without any objection.
âEveryone ready?â Banner asked, ready to slip on the gauntlet and before everyoneâs silent confirmations, those with power began protecting those without.Â
You and Clint stepped behind Tony and his Nano-tech shield while Thor stepped in front of the Raccoon. Ant-Man and his suit. Rhodey and his. Cap and his shield.Â
Professor Hulk nearly had the gauntlet on until Thor spoke up. âWait, wait wait wait...â He hissed.
Everyone let out the breath theyâd been holding.Â
âWhat is it, Thor?â Banner asked impatiently, starting to sweat
âY/n, come over here and stand behind me....â He spoke, waving you over.
âYou cannot be serious right now.â You hissed.Â
âI am. Now hurry up so we can get on with it.â Thor snapped back.
The burning of your cheeks didnât go unnoticed by the group, however, you did as requested by the god. âFine.â You huffed, now standing behind the man.Â
âBanner. Do your thing.â At your queue, Bruce slid the gauntlet onto his hand.
The damage was done immediately, as the fibers of the manâs clothing were singed by the overwhelming power of the stones. You watched as colorful streams of power surged through his arm and to his neck, bringing the man to his knees. He grunted, trying to focus on his objective.
âAre you alright?â You questioned at the same time that Thor began shouting for the man to take off the damned thing before it caused too much damage to his arm.
âTake it off, take it off!â The man in front of you hissed, in fear for his friend.
Nevertheless, Bruce powered through the pain, managing to snap his fingers before his hulking form fell to the floor with a thud. He was quickly surrounded to be tended to.
âDid... Did it work?â You dared to question, though, your confirms were solidified by a phone call from Nick Fury.Â
You placed a tender hand on Thorâs back, stepping out from behind your godly shield to take your call.Â
Stepping into the corridor, you put the phone to your ear. Before you could get a greeting out, the ceiling caved in all around you.
Thor found himself pushing the heavy remnants of a ceiling off of himself and Steve, both of them looking out onto the newly flattened landscape, as well as the gigantic warship hanging in the sky above them, threatening to launch another devastating attack."Thank you, Thor..." Steven murmured, clambering to his own two feet. "Is everyone okay?" He spoke through the coms.
"Y/n... Where's Y/n?" Thor yelled, racing off to find you.
You came to surrounded by rubble all around you. When you tried to stand, you found that you couldnât because of the debris that pinned you to the ground.
Trying your hardest to push away the rubble that was laid across your lower body, your face scrunched up in pain. Your eyes brimmed with tears as you tried and tried to free yourself. "Come on... Please!" You shouted to yourself before Thor landed nearby.
"Y/n!" Thor shouted, running over and taking quick note of your condition before crouching and attempting to lift the beams. "Hold on!"
With a grunt, he slowly started to lift the concrete. Until it snapped, most of it falling back down onto your body, making you cry out in anguish, the tears now flowing freely. "Fuck!"
He'd quickly dropped the large obstruction and stepped away, getting more and more distressed by the second. "No... no, no, no..." He repeated, crouching down and taking your hand between his two. "I-I'll have Banner come help you. Yeah... that'll work."
The second his hand tried to slip out from yours, you gripped his harder. "Thor... Just leave me here and focus on Thanos right now." You squinted through the pain and forced a smile. "Kill the bastard and then come back, yeah?"Â
Thor adverted his eyes, contemplating your words before turning back and mouthing something. He kissed your forehead and ran off towards the fight.Â
You watched his figure clamber to a stand before fleeing to the battle. It was then that it became apparent that your blood was pooling underneath your body. A cold shiver ran through your body, taking one final look at his bright red cape before everything dissolved into darkness.
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