Marvel Character Oneshots

Masked ~ thor x reader

{this takes place on earth, after The Avengers}

You can feel your excitement prickle at you as you step through the doors to the hall. It pushes up the corners of your lips, a smile betraying your calm-and-collected demeanour.

Your ruby red ball gown flows to the ground from your waist in pleated layers. A corset squeezes your ribcage. Your tall, black heels click-clack on the floor underneath you. A mask, set across your nose and eyes, glitters with sequins and sparkles. Its dark colour contrasting exquisitely against your pale skin.

The ballroom is decorated wonderfully. Streamers hang from the ceiling, stars adorn the walls and the tables are dressed with white silk. You take a deep breath and search the room, scanning the crowd for a dance partner.

You knew nobody there besides the Avengers, who'd invited you. You and Clint are cousins, and knowing how much you love dressing up, he'd persuaded them to invite you to their prestigious masquerade ball in celebration of their win in the Battle of New York. You had to admit, being related to an Avenger has its perks.

You sigh and make your way over to the drinks table, seeing almost every person too preoccupied to dance with you. You reach over to take a glass of champagne when a deep, husky male voice interrupts you.

"Would you care to dance with yours truly, my fair lady (Y/N)?"

You freeze. Turning slowly, you take in a tall, muscular man who's wearing a smart, seemingly medieval, formal outfit. A long red cape flows from his shoulders. Your heart skips a beat. You don't need to see behind his red mask to know who stands before you.

"Thor," you greet, grinning at him. How on earth he'd recognised you, you had no clue. "I would love to!"

You take his outstretched hand, staring up into his tender blue eyes. He smiles softly at you, placing a hand on your waist gently as you reach the middle of the dance floor. You settle one hand on his shoulder, leaving the other intertwined with his. You waltz slowly to the music, standing close to him.

He can't keep his eyes off of you. You know the look he's giving you, and you know what he's going to end up saying. A giggle escapes your rose-painted lips. He frowns.

"What have you taken humour from, my dear?" He asks, spinning you around and gliding you back tightly into his embrace. Your heart races in your chest.

"Oh, nothing!" You smile. He doesn't look completely reassured, but gets over it fast.

"You look delightfully beautiful tonight, (Y/N)," he says, squeezing your waist. Though your heart flutters at the romantic gesture, you cock a brow.

"Why, thank you." You smirk at him. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Your charm bracelet gave you away to my observations. Barton hinted you'd be wearing it tonight."

You frown in surprise. You had no idea Thor and Clint spoke often. You learn something new every day then, I suppose, you think.

The song finishes. You step away, making Thor release his grip on you, and courtsey to him. He springs another dazzling smile on you and bows back. Your heart is doing incredibly strange things today.

"You look quite dapper yourself, by the way, your Majesty."

He chuckles. He looks around at the chattery gathering and offers you his hand again. "Come for a walk with me?"

Taking a hold of his large, calloused hand, you step together out the doors and into the stunning garden. He moves your grasp to the inside of his elbow. You stand close, absorbing his body heat. It's cold, you think.

He glances sideways at you, noting the absence of sleeves on your arms. A waiter passes you both, on his way inside with a tray of champagne. Thor stops him.

"Kind sir, please would you fetch my lady a warm shawl?"

The waiter stares widely between the two of you. You try not to laugh at his astonished face.

"Of - of course, Mr Thor, sir," he stutters and hurries inside.

You let loose your giggles again, putting a hand to your mouth. Thor settles his gaze back onto you. You can literally feel his confusion. You pat his cheek adoringly.

"Don't worry yourself, I laugh easily!"

He grabs your receding hand and holds it to his face, wiping the mirth-filled smile from your face. His intense eyes regard you wholesomely. Your chest aches with pleasure as you get lost in his beckoning orbs. You can't help yourself. You step closer, bringing your other hand up to his chest.

"Uh - Mr Thor, sir?"

The waiter was back. You try not to glare at him as he hands you a shawl, though you wrap it around your shoulders gratefully. You turn back to the regal man in front of you. He hadn't looked away from you for a moment. You smile, again.

He reaches behind his head and unties his mask, setting it down on the wall next to you. You do the same to yours, all the while holding his enrapturing eye contact.

Suddenly, in an extremely swift, fleeting movement, his lips crash onto yours. One of his hands slide into your hair. You press your lips firmly against his, shocked, but loving it nonetheless.

Turns out, his incredible eyes aren't the only part of him that are so intense. His lips caress yours bruisingly, but his hands are gentle on your head and his soft facial hair tickles you.

And then something slows you down, the weight of insecurity pulling you away from his tender grasp, your lips parting from their melodious dance. You open your eyes fretfully, removing his hand from your hair. You step away from him and turn around, staring up at the full moon.

"What is it that blocks the way to your heart, my love?" He whispers, his husky voice getting louder as he advances up behind you, letting his hands rest on your hips.

A tear slides down your cheek. Fear trembles in your knees.

"Someone as strong as you, as regal as you, could never love someone as weak and mortal as me," you murmur, fear of his rejection steals the volume from your voice. Your remark sounds stupid out loud, better in your head. You cringe, refusing to meet his eyes as he twists you round to face him.

"As weak and mortal as you?" He asks.

"As weak and mortal as I," you reply. Another mascara-smudging tear stains your face.

He puts a finger under your chin, lifting your head to finally look up at him. You can't stand his inviting, caring eyes.

"But... I do not understand. You aren't weak." He comforts. "Yes, you may be mortal, but I can help you change that, if you wish."

You keep your arms crossed, but you can't help believing his every word.

"As for having my love..." He smiles at you. "We can always see where that goes."

*

{i am open to any requests for a part 2! :3}