SOKOVIA ✦ marvel oneshots

honey

( quartz! )

...

THE NEW ASGARD PROJECT STARTED ONCE THE LAST EMBERS OF THANOS'S WRATH DIED OUT. It was to be a home for the displaced Asgardians, a new hope for them as they started their lives anew on Earth.

However, in reality, it was a rather inconspicuous apartment building that needed many renovations before it would resemble that of Asgard in the slightest.

Thor had taken to overseeing the strenuous tasks of remodeling the building; knocking down walls, re-tiling, replacing windows and the like. Valkyrie, or Bruunhilde as she liked you to call her, assisted him along with the ever optimistic Korg and a few Asgardians.

With the heavy work out of the way, there was still a lot more to do, which lead to you, Bruce, and the charming trickster Loki to ensure that the drab building flourished with color and style.

Tasked with a small team of Asgardians to assist you, you were given the lovely job of painting; something that you found fun and relaxing. Choosing from a wide variety of colors, and turning the dull, dirty walls into a canvas to breathe new life into was always a delightful task for you.

That was before you were struck with a flu seemingly tailored just to make you miserable. The chore of carrying paint cans wrought havoc on your already aching muscles, leaving you panting, out of breath with your chest alight, unprepared for the fit of coughs that would scrape at your sore throat.

"I thought I heard someone gasping their last, dying breaths," a silky voice tinged with amusement echoed through the empty room that you were struggling to paint.

You set down the can of gold paint you were battling with a thud on the paper lined floors and wiped at the beads of sweat on your forehead, your muscles relieved to have the strain gone.

Turning, you found Loki leaning in the doorway, watching you with a small smirk. The well fitted black shirt he was clad in had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he neglected to ensure the buttons from his chest upwards were done all the way up in an effort to cool himself down.

You were both envious and in awe of how he managed to look so good in the blistering heat, whereas your hair was a mess, with paint staining your clothes, and your face flushed and dripping with sweat.

Too weak to muster a smile like you normally would to him, you merely nodded in agreement. "I feel like I'm dying."

The smirk dropped off Loki's face at your words. He pushed himself off the wall and uncrossed his arms. "Oh dear, you do look it." He closed the small gap between you and him in quick, long strides, and laid a cool hand against your cheek, then your forehead. "You're burning up."