Thor x Reader

Nine

Uncertainly you eyed him. Your gaze wandered over his face, hoping he was just making another of his macabre jokes.

In the past he had often teased you and had said things that made you panic, only to admit later that he had no idea why you had reacted so extremely.

He was a little manipulative. In the end, he couldn't avoid everything from his father.

But when your eyes met his, sunken and clouded with exhaustion, you knew he wasn't bluffing this time.

He knew.

A cold shiver crept down your spine.

You swallowed hard.

Slowly your head moved to deny his accusation.

"I'm not lying.", you said and pretended to be annoyed. "Tyr disappeared before he could teach me certain things."

"You know how to cast spells.", Thor took a step towards you.

Strangely, it wasn't a threat. He just wanted to come closer to get a better look at you.

And you didn't feel the need to flee from him either.

As his shadow fell over you, you raised your head to keep eye contact with him.

The blue of his eyes was still the same. Sometimes it looked like a clear, cloudless sky. Then it became cloudy like a thunderstorm.

You knew that when he was really angry, magic flowed through his eyes and made them glow like lightning.

But it had never happened because of you.

The last time it had happened, he had defied his own father. His anger had been so powerful, the great lodge had had to be rebuilt.

But in the end it had been for nothing.

The Allfather had only mocked him.

"Casting spells and lifting them are two completely different things.", you said.

For a moment he just stared at you.

A low hum made his chest shiver.

"But you do know how to cast spells.", he said.

It was not a question, but rather he was waiting for you to confirm it to his face.

It puzzled you why he was suddenly interested in your magical abilities.

Long ago, when you were still talking, you had not long been Tyr's student. It had taken you decades to learn simple things like walking between worlds.

And you didn't lie to him when you said that you couldn't actually break your master's spell. Your training had ended too soon to be a match to his powers.

But you believed you knew what response the spell was listening for. Then it would break itself.

Like a riddle.

Confused, you frowned.

For the briefest of seconds you took your eyes off his and let them wander over his chest.

He was fair-skinned, but not as white as Heimdall preferred to be. Irritations appeared everywhere you looked. There were either red scratches, scars or stretch marks.

Over the centuries, his tattoos had faded. Now they looked grey instead of black.

Some of them were completely unknown to you. But the ones he had had even back then brought back memories.

Between his dishevelled ginger hair, a tattoo appeared that covered his entire right temple and part of his eye. The lines were wobbly and uneven. Some edges already started to blur.

It was kind of embarrassing to look at, such unprofessional work created by terrible skills.

And yet, Thor had made sure to part his hunger mane in a way that it was out in the open, for everyone to see.

You remembered it well. It was you who had tattooed him.

Traditionally Tyr had been the one who decorated his family with runes and ink.

But that fateful night, Thor had insisted that you tattoo his face.

To this day you did not know what his motives had been for refusing his brother's skilled hands. At the time it had been a sweet gesture of trust on his part.

Now he must have bitterly regretted it. For all eternity he would wear a work of art of yours on his face.

A strange thought. If it had been on your body, you would probably have peeled it off with a knife.

His gaze met yours again.

And suddenly he smiled.

It wasn't much of a smile, the corners of his mouth lifted just enough to show that he was moving them. The sight was tired, exhausted.

And yet.

He smiled at you.

Completely caught off guard, you sucked in a sharp breath.

Why was he smiling?

It felt as if he had read your thoughts. Once upon a time he had been very close to knowing what you were thinking. But after all this time it must have been impossible for him to guess that you pitied him because of the tattoo on his face.

"I don't regret it.", he finally said.

As if in a trance, his hand lifted. With his fingertips he traced the slipped lines. It almost seemed as if he enjoyed touching it. Like he was able to remember better times through the ink.

Irritated by what you felt, you averted your eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about.", you murmured. "What do you want, Thor?"

"I have already told you."

"And I answered."

"Because you think I'm here for Allfather."

You froze.

This was a trick. It had to be a trap.

He just wanted to test you.

"You're talking nonsense.", you laughed, but it was audibly forced.

"(Y/N).", the way he called out for you was enough to make blood freeze.

As if struck by lightning, you stared at him.

His face felt so familiar yet like the one of a stranger.

Every single sound that his voice made brought back memories, turned back time. But it wasn't the same.

The way he looked at you, so full of regret, like a dog that wanted to apologise with its tail between its legs.

You hated it. You hated everything with every cell of your existence.

"Don't.", your voice was trembling.

Beads of sweat crawled down your skin. It felt like a layer of snow covered your entire body.

"I know...", he said.

Angered, you bared your teeth.

"You don't get to call me by my name after denying me yours!", you hissed. "Get out!"

His lips pressed into a thin line.

"Please.", how soft he spoke.

As if he feared everything could break apart.

"Get out.", you insisted, your eyed as stern as stone. "And don't you dare come back. Not this time."