a sonnet of love.
premise: when you wake in the middle of the night to thena not next to you, you go looking for her.
pairing: thena x (f)eternal!reader
warnings: very very soft smut, light descriptions of foreplay (fingering), a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, slight eternals spoilers, pet names (ο άγγελός μου meaning ‘my angel’ in greek). you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on. 18+ only minors dni, you will be blocked.
word count: 1.53k
etc: the greek translation came from google translate so if it’s wrong please let me know. but when i say i’m soft for thena, i mean i’m literally as soft as soft serve ice cream melting in a pot. this woman is queen, god, and i will not be taking any criticism on the manner.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to wake up from the missing warmth at your side. To not feel the familiar slow breath of the body that was usually there now gone. The side of the bed becoming cold and desolate, something that you had become accustomed to. Something you understood. Something that always had you climbing out of bed and going in search of the missing warmth, the missing person.
Your Thena.
And she’s always in the same spot, always has the same mug of tea in her hands. Her night dress flowing slightly from the small breeze coming from the open window. The light of the moon shining across her face so beautiful, as if she could get anymore beautiful.
It had always been hard for Thena to sleep, especially at night. Her body was constantly ready for a fight making her more restless than not. And you couldn’t imagine all of the restless thoughts that must go through her busy mind. Thena making it almost impossible to read her, even after all these centuries together her stone cold features revealing little to what was going on within her. The woman only letting you see what she wanted you to see, only letting you inside, climb past her walls and guards only if she allowed, when she allowed.
It was something you never found yourself getting upset over. The two of you may have been polar opposites, but you made it work. Her hard edges fit perfectly with your soft ones, neither of you daring to, wanting to, having any desire to change the other. And would never think of it.
You walk up behind her, you know she had already sensed your presence from the doorway. So when you press your lips to the back of her exposed shoulder she doesn’t flinch, a soft hum coming from her pressed lips.
“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask softly, wrapping your arms around her midsection loosely, your chin settling atop her shoulder.
She sighs bringing her mug to her lips taking a small sip. “Got a few more hours than last night.” She inadvertently answers without really answering, something she’s amazing at. Something that makes you smile.
“I’m surprised Gil isn’t awake making you a morning feast right now,” you tease and it makes a soft chuckle cut through Thena’s hard features. The sound of her sweet chuckle, the pressed smile on her face as she turns her head to look at you sends a flurry of sparks through you, butterflies you once heard a human call it. No matter the name of it though, the feeling was other worldly, a feeling that nothing else could match, could feel as good as how it felt when Thena laughed, smiled, or touched you. The two of you had lived many lives, ones you didn’t even remember, ones you might live a million centuries down the road, and you couldn’t imagine yourself loving her more than you did right now. In these moments with her. The time shared with her, no matter how much of that time had gone by, would go by, it would never be enough and it would all be so much, so amazing all at the same time.
“He didn’t wake this time.” Thena sets her mug onto the windowsill before she turns her body towards you, leaving your arms wrapped around her. Her slim fingers meeting the soft skin of your cheek, “you should be asleep. There’s no need for both of us to suffer by moonlight.” The corner of her mouth quirks, her eyes glinting with softness as she traces your features with her fingers as if she needs proof you’re really here, that her sleep deprived mind hasn’t conjured you up or fallen into the routine of you always coming to find her even when you’re not really there. When her thumb brushes across your lips you press a quick kiss to the pad of it making her smile.
“If this is suffering than I very much like it.” You pick, smile. Shiver a little when her fingers come to rest at the top of your chest, her palm pressing to where she can feel your heart beating. The two of you stand like that for a while, swaying a little to silent music, heads pressed together, breathing the other in. You run your hand up and down the middle of Thena’s back slowly, the silence shared between the two of you saying more than either of you could right now. The softness of this moment in the late hours of the night one of your favorites with her. And you might suspect, despite her usual constant protest for you to go back to sleep, that it’s Thena’s as well. As if the dark of the night slows everything down, makes everything less loud.
And when she whispers the soft words, “take me to bed, ο άγγελός μου.” Those butterflies come back. Thena pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as she pulls back to hold out her hand to you that you gladly take and hold onto, as if your life depended on it, as the two of you walk to your shared room.
Slipping under the covers, the returned warmth of having her body next to you makes you sink into the mattress a little more; at peace, at ease.
Her hands haven’t left your body—and she would surely wound you if you mentioned it out loud to the other members of your little family—that in private, even in passing when the others aren’t looking, Thena always has a part of her touching you at all times. She’s never let it known as to why she does it, if it’s just because she can’t help herself from touching you or if it’s more complex than that. As if you ground her, keep her here, present. That if she’s ever feeling lost all she needs to do is reach out and you’ll be there. Always.
You’d never ask her what it is, it being one of those things that if Thena wanted you to know she would let you know. And whatever it was you were grateful for it, thanked whatever God the humans were always praying to when good things happened, that this woman, this warrior, the great and beautiful Thena needed you. Needed to feel your skin on hers.
And maybe it was foolish for you to look at her touch as some sort of praise, notion of devotion and admiration. Or maybe it was something else entirely, something the poets in the streets of Greece used to go on about.
“Thena,” you don’t know what you’re going to say, what you want to say, but your brain is going fuzzy with the way she’s looking at you. Her stone features holding in what her eyes shine with; sweetness, fondness, something made up of more than just shared breath and touches. Something you want to whisper against her skin right now but instead find the distance between the two of you being closed, her soft lips pressed to yours in a slow passionate kiss that burns and soothes all at the same time.
And doesn’t stop even when she lifts your night dress from your body, hers following. Her kiss only faltering in the slightest when she feels your fingers skate across her breasts, a soft moan breathed against your lips, mixed with your breath, breathed in and settling inside that part of you where only Thena lives, owns; your heart.
Her lips never leave your body as they kiss, bite, and suck at any part of you within her reach. Any part she can praise and worship and make that breathy whimper release from your lungs that she loves so much.
When her hand slips between the two of you finding the spot where you are wet and aching for her, your body shakes and withers under her touch. Her skillful fingers bringing you pleasure that’s only she can bring. As if your body was built in the name of her, for her. “Thena.” Your moan is low and burns your throat. And her sweet gentle lips swallow it down with a deep kiss as she makes you cum with her fingers. Every praise, admiration, and devotion of her feelings written out with her lips onto yours.
And when the two of you have caught your breath, when all that can be heard are the soft breaths mixed between the two of you with your foreheads pressed together, you feel her fingers dance along your back. “ο άγγελός μου,” she says softly. Her hand moving from your back to your chin to lift it, meet her gaze as she moves her head from yours. You feel sleepy, sedated, but Thena looks as beautiful as before, as ever. Always so beautiful Thena, your Thena. “I love you.”
And with the tears in her eyes, the knowing that she’s only whispered those words to you and only will to you. You know for sure that the poets in Greece were talking about this; love. Your Thena.
