For Anonymous: For Anonymous: “Thor is really self conscious about his eye patch and thinks the reader won’t love him anymore but it’s like fluffy comfort when she asks him what’s wrong?” Also @captain-ariel-barnes and @thortillas insisted on knowing EXACTLY when this went up! 💖💖💖
A/N: THERE ARE ABSOLUTELY NO INFINITY WAR SPOILERS IN THIS AT ALL, despite the title and the gif. This one specific reference just fit. Really well. And if you’ve noticed, I’ve been keeping the shorter, fluffy drabbles without a read more cut because I have a theory that people in safe mode might be able to view them on their dashboard or in the thor x reader tag but not on my blog so…let me know if this theory is correct please!
Oh plus, Odin did, in fact, give his eye for Wisdom. That’s how he got an eyepatch. It’s a whole thing.
Warnings: Nada. Super cute. Super touchy. Super fluffy with a dash of angst because…Thor’s got a lot to deal with all the time.
Words: 1,999 (wow i couldn’t just add one more and make it even? awesome.)
You’d never seen Thor like this before. Sure, he got serious when he needed to, but normally he was bright and sunny and enthusiastic. Normally he was all about holding your hand and showing affection openly. Normally, he wasn’t weighed down with a whole kingdom on his shoulders. And you tried to understand that, but this was a whole personality shift.
He sulked. A lot. He was quiet when he’d usually be boisterous. He was contemplative, rather than running his mouth and tripping over himself. And you missed your happy, sappy, romantic God of a boyfriend. Desperately.
You just wanted to talk to him. You reminded yourself that asking him to open up and trust you to listen to him wasn’t a lot. It was part of the deal of being together. So you sighed, pushed his door open without knocking, and entered the room. He hadn’t even gotten out yet, but he was awake and shirtless.
“Hey baby,” you whispered, shutting the door behind you softly.
He didn’t look over at you. The fingers of his right hand played with the metal eyepatch that replaced one of his brilliant blue eyes as he faced the ceiling. You went over to the bed, got under the sheet with him, and tried to duck under that arm at its bend. He barely reacted except to shift so you fit.
“You hungry?” you asked, knowing he was almost always hungry. He was a big man, after all. “I could make grilled cheese or something.”
He shook his head. But that was it. And you felt your stomach tighten and your heart sink. You couldn’t stand seeing him like this anymore, so you turned over so you were facing him, which forced you to throw an arm over his torso.
“Thor, baby, what’s wrong?” you asked, bending your arm so you could reach to scratch the hairs on his chin.
“I look like my father,” he said after another whole minute of silence.
That was all he gave you, so your brow pinched up in the middle and you asked, “And? Is that a bad thing?”
“Maybe?” he said. “He wasn’t a great person. Good leader, but made some awful mistakes-”
“Okay, but you’re not your father, Thor. You just look like him – which, for the record, I can neither confirm nor deny, given I never saw your father myself.” You said it just to state a fact, not to rub it in his face.
Still, he sighed and shut his eye. He never lifted his fingers from his eyepatch, so you reached out and pulled his hand away yourself.
“What’s all of this mopeiness really about?” you asked softly, just trying to get some answers. Real answers to problems that you could turn into solutions. When he didn’t answer again, you pulled his hand to your lips and kissed each knuckle, and in between you said, “You – know – you – can – tell – me – anything.”
“You’ll think I’m being ridiculous,” he said, not so much a warning as it was a statement. “Or maybe that’s just me hoping.”
“You really need to be more straightforward, Thor,” you said, a little hint of a laugh in your tone. You missed hearing him laugh so much, you’d even take a single chuckle at that point.
He took a second, but then he finally made eye contact with you. You bit your lip and tried to make it look like you were waiting patiently, but you weren’t. You were anxious, and when you got anxious, you got antsy. You tried to focus on drawing patterns on his skin, just to expend some energy.
“Ragnarok didn’t change me, but being put on the throne did,” he said.
You wanted to tell him that that didn’t matter to you. You thought he was an amazing king – and honestly, you tried not to think about what that meant for you more than who it made him. But you stayed quiet and let him speak, since it was what you’d asked for in the first place.
“I had to face my people and swear I’d protect them, and I’ve tried… But then I got a glimpse at my reflection. I thought I’d seen a ghost, (Y/N),” he said. “I look like my father. I’ve taken his seat and his title and his responsibility, but I can live with all of that. What bothers me still is that I look like him.”
You stared, because he wasn’t getting to the point. You still wanted to give him the opportunity to talk if he had anything else to say, but apparently, that was it. So you said, “I don’t see the problem here.”
“Odin gave his eye for Wisdom,” he said, as if it was supposed to make sense in a Midgardian context. “He wore an eyepatch most of his life, and all of mine.”
You blinked fast twice, then once slower, for exaggerated effect. He was right. You thought he was being ridiculous.
“Thor, are you trying to tell me you’re sad all the time because you have one less eye?” you asked, trying your best to be sensitive. You didn’t think you were successful, especially when he turned his eye away from you.
“I’m not sad because I have one less eye,” he insisted. “I’m upset because…”
“Because?” you asked, your fingers stopping their ministrations on his chest.
“Because what if you can’t see past it? What if the loss of my eye makes you see me differently? What if-” he sighed, still unable to look at you. “What if you change your mind about me?”
You almost laughed, but you bit your lip to keep the feeling in. You knew it would only make him more upset, so you waited until you could calm down. You let out the tension from the laugh in a long breath, then sat up until you were kneeling in the space between the side of his arm and his torso.
“Thor Odinson,” you said softly, “you should know me well enough by now to know that a piece of metal, a crude haircut, and a few extra scars are not going to make me fall out of love with you.” You picked up the hand you’d kissed moments ago so he couldn’t bring it back to his eyepatch. Shoving your fingers between his large ones, you waited until he did meet your gaze to continue. “You could have a metal arm like Bucky. You could’ve been shrunk four feet and be shorter than me. But as long as you’re still the man I love enough to wait around for whenever you go back into space, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
It took him a second, but he let out a long sigh of relief. You swore you saw his lower lid fill with tears before he shut his eye again. Letting his hand drop to your thigh, you leaned down and kissed the rough scarred skin around his eyepatch, one little bit at a time until you’d made your way all the way around the socket and back to the start. Then you trailed kisses to his lips, and when you met there, he let out little breathy laughs, like he couldn’t believe his fortune.
When you pulled away to sit back, his hand followed you, attached to your cheek. His palm was almost larger than your head, so you leaned into him with a smile.
“Maybe I do see you differently now,” you said, but without breaking connection with him. “But that’s not a bad thing.”
“What do you see now?” he asked.
You raised your eyebrows. “I’m only gonna tell you if you’re sure you wanna hear.”
He let one tear fall sideways down his face. You couldn’t tell if it was residual from the flood before your kisses, or if was new. It didn’t matter. He nodded, and you turned your face to his palm and kissed it once before turning back.
“Before all of this Ragnarok stuff, you were sunny. All the time. Bright and happy and – god – so wonderful. I’d get distracted on missions watching you fight. Have I mentioned that before?”
He laughed, though the sound was cut short. He seemed overcome with emotion, as his eye kept filling and spilling and filling again. “You have. I’ve seen it happen, too,” he said.
“Yes, and I’ll deny this conversation ever happened if you tell anyone,” you said, never losing your smile behind the threat.
Thor nodded, not losing his, either. That was a good sign, you knew.
“So, anyway, yeah. When you came back this time, things were different. It wasn’t the eyepatch. It was the way you carried your shoulders and…I don’t know. You walked like you were missing half of you – took me a bit to realize it was because Mjolnir was gone, but still. Yeah, I saw you differently. I saw you physically vulnerable. Do you know how often mortals get to see Gods like that?” you asked.
He didn’t have an answer, or at the very least, he didn’t give one.
“Pretty much never,” you told him. “And, you know, when I think about it like that, I’m kind of honored. Because for so much of our relationship, you’ve taken care of me. You’re stronger and faster and…whatever else, so I just let it happen. Then you stepped off that ship and you looked like you were gonna fall apart and, yeah, Thor, I saw you differently. I saw you as someone I got to take care of. And I’m more honored for that than anything else.”
Silence fell. You bit your lip again, watching as a mix of emotions passed over his features. This was one of those times you wished you had powers like Wanda’s, so you could see into his head and hear his thoughts. Thor was normally open, but you’d already considered how that had changed. You weren’t surprised, even as the silence dragged on.
But then he sat up, leaning on one arm. He was practically draped over your lap, but you made no sign of discomfort. It was his turn to say whatever it was he had to say.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I should’ve come to you sooner about all of this.” He couldn’t even meet your gaze, so you moved your hand to his cheek, bending slightly to meet him halfway.
“You have nothing to apologize for, baby,” you told him. “And nothing to worry about – not when it comes to me, anyway. I know you’ve got a lot else on your mind.” You sat up again and kissed his forehead, then pulled his head against your chest.
His arms went around you as he relaxed. You felt the tension leave every muscle in his body. Somehow he managed to put most of his weight on you without knocking you backward while also relaxing, but you didn’t question how that worked. You just let it happen. You kissed his forehead again, then put your cheek against it so your hair fell over his shoulders.
“Can you say it again?” he asked quietly.
“Say what?”
“That you love me,” he whispered. He sounded a lot like he had when he’d come back to Earth after Ragnarok, and it broke your heart a little.
You knew this was going to be a slow climb up a long, treacherous hill, but you were willing to make the climb with him. That was what made it so easy for you to shut your eyes and say, “I love you so much, Thor.” You heard him hum, then you let the air hang between you for a minute. Of course, you couldn’t let that last too long, though. “And not just because the eyepatch makes you look like a super sexy pirate or anything.”
He laughed, and the vibrations from his chest shook and warmed you at the same time. “Good to know,” he said.
Toad's Cave 