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mariasvetlana · 3 years ago

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AHHHHHH THIS IS SO HOT 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐃 (𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓)

𝐕𝐈𝐕’𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Note: The skin tone of the woman in the moodboard (top left corner) is NOT reflective of what the reader looks like — my readers are all non-descriptive as possible in terms of appearance so that it’s inclusive for everyone. It was just hard to find a picture with that kind of vibe without showing some of the model’s face lol.

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐗 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Requested — by Anonymous (in this ask)

Warnings — coarse language, shameless and explicit smut, oral (f receiving), porn with minimal plot, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, political/arranged marriages, mutual pining, Minors DNI; 18+ only!

Summary — Stubbornness and pride (and hurt) prevent you from submitting to a marriage to the first prince of Asgard, who has been a thorn in your side ever since you two met. Unfortunately for you, your families are determined to see the marriage through, even if it means locking the two of you in a room together until a compromise can be made...

Notes — My first ever Thor fic! This is NOT related to The Incubus's Bride AU, despite the similar title! Thank you so much to the anon who requested this. I had fun writing it. Please let me know what you think by commenting or reblogging!

Please remember I block ageless blogs. Put your age in your bio or message me with your age so I know you’re not a minor. Thanks!

Once again, if you are a minor… kindly gtfo. This is not for you. You are ultimately responsible for your own media consumption. You have been warned.

Thor watches, his anger simmering just beneath the surface of his seemingly calm exterior, as you pace back and forth around the room. He then recalls the way you had leaned close to Loki earlier during the party and whispered something to him. The simmering becomes a full-on rolling boil when he remembers the sight of his brother’s hand pressed into the curve of your waist, lowering his head so you could speak directly into his ear.

The second prince of Asgard had then thrown his head back and laughed, a sight that was rare here on this planet. You had never once spoken to Thor so intimately, let alone tried to him laugh like that.

It was his engagement party, and yet his fiancée had spent a better part of the night flirting with his brother.

Loki had excused himself from your conversation to head over to the dining table, where a huge feast had been prepared just for the occasion. The kingdom was alight with good cheer and exploding fireworks, live music echoing off the stone walls of the castle. Loki took a jar of mead off the table, having left you to find something to refill your goblet with.

Thor wrapped a hand around his brother’s arm and stopped him mid-stride, growling out between clenched teeth. “What are you doing?”

“I’m drinking,” Loki said simply before turning to leave once again. Thor tugged him back again, scoffing when the younger Odinson rolled his eyes with annoyance.

“It’s unseemly, the way you touch her with such familiarity.” Thor chastised. Loki narrowed his eyes and exchanged a look with Heimdall, who was sitting on the first prince’s right side, trying to enjoy his meal through Thor’s quiet seething. “She’s about to be your sister-in-law, might I remind you.”

“That’s so funny,” Loki facetiously placed his thumb and forefinger against his chin, as if deep in thought. “I was just about to remind you of the same thing. She’s your fiancée, brother. Have you actually spoken to her since the engagement announcement?”

Judging from the awkward silence that followed, it was evident Thor hadn’t. Loki sighed, before moving to hoist his brother out of his seat. “Alright, come on. Let’s fix that, shall we?”

“What? No, I—”

“Either you go over there, or I go over there disguised as you. And I’ll tell her all sorts of things that may or may not be true. Which one will it be?” Loki stood with his arms crossed, and Thor looked over at Heimdall for assistance.

“I’m afraid you’re on your own, sire.” The seer replied, raising both hands in surrender. He already knew what was about to happen, and, as per usual, he had no desire to influence the future.

Thor glanced at you from across the room as you were speaking to Lady Sif, who was admiring the new sword you had forged for her back in the underworld. He knew Loki wasn’t bluffing, and he couldn’t be trusted with you for another second. Who knows what sorts of ideas he’d put in your head? Or where else he’d touch you before the night was over?

“Fine,” he gritted out.

But after all the years of being brother to the god of mischief, one would think Thor would have known better by now.

It’s how he finds himself locked in a room with you, Loki having lured the both of you into the nearest empty chambers for a quiet chat. He smirked as he enchanted the doors so they wouldn’t open unless the two of you worked out your differences, waving you both goodbye as they slammed shut.

Thor doesn’t take his eyes off you while you pace, unable to ignore the way your dress left very little to the imagination. He raked his heated gaze hungrily over your salacious form, cursing you for showing up looking like a temptress straight out of his nightmares.

But that’s exactly what you are.

The one and only Princess of Hell, commander of its fiery pits, and mistress of the formerly untameable beast Cerberus.

Your fathers had been allies for centuries, with you most recently coming to his aid during a battle with the Dark Elves in a sudden blast of carbon and flame. Thor remembered squinting against the bright orange inferno to see the outline of your shapely silhouette, before sighing with relief when he finally made out the shape of the horns at each side of your head, when you emerged from the shadows in all your glory.

You locked eyes with him across the battlefield, smirking, before shooting a crack of thunder from the tips of your delicate fingers, striking down an elf who had been creeping up behind him during the chaos.

He didn’t even have the time to be embarrassed at having been caught off guard; you had just saved his life, after all. He was mostly just elated to know that, while you hated him, you didn’t hate him quite enough to see him die.

Surely, that counted for something, did it not?

Unfortunately, you and Thor first met back when he was still an impulsive and arrogant young prince. You were immensely unimpressed with him, his pride severely wounded when he had flirted and flattered you, only for you to casually dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

Ever since, your interactions were filled with snide remarks, thinly veiled backhanded compliments, and a rivalry to prove who was stronger and better. You insulted his reliance on his hammer. He referred to you, to whomever was willing to listen, condescendingly as ‘baby thunder’, mocking your lightning abilities in comparison to his.

But Odin had plans for the both of you. He was impressed with you; outside of your childish rivalry with his eldest son, you were matchless in the underworld. He proposed a new arrangement to take the alliance between your two kingdoms even further: a marriage.

Thor opposed near vehemently, his protests echoing loudly into the silent throne room. He looked over at you incredulously, wondering why you weren’t voicing your own objections.

He caught up with you later over the Bifrost Bridge as you were just about to leave, grabbing your arm and hissing as he asked why you’d want to go through with it. He didn’t let go even as your skin sizzled with anger, the pain shooting up his arm, but he took it all with silent rage.

“Because I would do anything for my people,” you yanked your arm out from his grip before standing up as tall as you could, but compared to him, you only came up to the middle of his chest. Even so, in Thor’s eyes, you were unparalleled, the exquisite creature that you are. “Even marry the likes of you.”

He watched you walk away, torn. With a flash of light, you disappeared into the Bifrost and returned home. He wanted to do the honourable thing, to turn around and convince his father to let you out of this arrangement, let you out of a marriage you couldn’t possibly want.

But another part of him rejoiced. He had to admit that he wanted you, had wanted you from the moment he first laid eyes on you, since you had emerged from the sparks and embers of the underworld like a rising phoenix.

He wanted you no matter how you came to him.

But Thor is obviously clueless to the hearts of the fairer sex, because if he really looked back on that day, he would have seen the hurt in your eyes at his outburst. You were supposed to hate the arrogant and self-centred first prince of Asgard, given your track record together.

You were not supposed to want him above all else. You weren’t supposed to have swelled with hope when Odin proposed a marriage between the two of you. You shouldn’t have been elated at the thought of becoming his wife.

You shouldn’t have been disappointed when he dissented, because it should have been obvious that he couldn’t stand you.

“Hey—” He calls out to you now from where he’s leaning against the wall, in hopes he could convince you to stop your incessant pacing.

“Shut up, Odinson.” You snapped, irritated that Loki would do this to you after you decided to confide in him your troubles. The two of you had become close friends over the years, to no one’s surprise, and he had teasingly congratulated you on the engagement.

“Perhaps now, you can stop pretending to hate him so?” Loki suggested.

“Sure,” you shrugged, finishing the last of your mead and placing your hand on his arm to pull him closer so you could mutter under your breath, “But honestly? It’s sort of half the fun.”

Loki laughed out loud, and you felt a prickling of indignation when you saw Thor tense from across the room. The audacity of that man!

Even now, he looks at you like he owns you. (But doesn’t he?)

“I’ve barely said anything.” Thor barks, earning him a heated glare, your eyes flashing red. You could swear that his breath hitches, that his pupils dilate a little, that he might even like it when you lose your temper.

“We need to find a way to get out of here.” You remind him, mumbling under your breath that you were going to flay Loki alive once you’ve escaped his makeshift dungeon.

“Surprising, given the way you were falling all over him tonight.” Thor scoffs.

“…I do not appreciate your tone.” You narrow your eyes, your skin heating up as your anger flares once more.

“Do you hear that?” He puts a hand up to his ear, pretending like he’s straining to listen. “That’s the sound of me not caring.”

“Oh, that’s the sound of you not caring? Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like someone’s jealous.”

“Jealous? Ha. Why would I be jealous?”

“Maybe because everyone finally saw that Prince Loki is the more charming Odinson. Perhaps I should ask your parents to reconsider and allow me to marry him instead?”

“Watch your tongue, Y/N. You are addressing your future husband.” Thor uncrosses his arms, pushing off the wall and stalking over to you, his different coloured eyes darkening with each step, until you’re basically chest to chest.

“That’s Lady Y/N to you.” You challenge, eyes blazing, craning your neck upwards to maintain defiant eye contact. “And there’s still time. After all, you—” You force yourself to stop short, your voice rising in volume as your anger and frustration grows. If you go any further, you will reveal your disappointment, gods, even your sadness, that he was so adamantly opposed to marrying you.

“I, what?” He breathes harshly through his nose, as if he’s trying to hold something back. Is it anger? His hatred? Even so, you can’t help the way your eyes dart towards his lips. “My eyes are up here… my lady.”

“I wasn’t looking,” you say a little too quickly. “You aren’t even my type.”

“I’m beginning to suspect that I am exactly you’re type.” Thor closes the distance between you, until your chest is pressed right up against his, until you’re sure he can feel your heart hammering against your ribcage. He lifts a hand to gently skate his fingers down your cheek, before they reach out to wrap gently around your neck. “You were quite literally on fire just a minute ago. Now? You’re warm.”

You shake your head, disbelieving. “You have no idea what you’re—”

“I have no idea? You are the one who has no idea. You would force me to listen to such cruelty at our engagement party? That you wish so badly to marry my brother instead of me?”

“You’re the one who made a fuss when your father made the announcement!”

“Because you are nothing!” He roars suddenly, before catching himself and breathing deep, lowering his voice back down to a gentle murmur. “Do you hear me? You are… nothing… to me.”

You wait for the keen sting of heartbreak, staring up at him with your eyes blazing, but the way he looks at you has you feeling something else entirely. You must be imagining it, the passion in his eyes, the yearning, the way it almost seems as if he’s really trying to say: you are everything to me.

“And you make me sick.” You make me weak.

Thor hooks a finger under your chin, his beautiful eyes, shining with tiny specks of gold, burning with red-hot heat. Suddenly, he smiles.

“That was pathetic, even for you.” Suddenly his hands are framing your face, his thumbs tracing the curve of your jaw, the tips of his fingers reaching up into your hair. Your eyes flutter closed, the feel of his hands on you too delicious and too warm to resist.

“Thor, I swear to Lucifer, if this is one of your games, I’ll slather you with rancid chicken fat and then feed you to a pack of rabid dogs!”

“Good god, do I love that temper.” And then his lips descend upon yours. You shudder against him, your hands subconsciously lifting to his chest, sliding up his armour so you could crumple the soft material of his cape.

His kiss is chaste at first, an experimental touching of lips on lips, but then his hands slide down to forcefully grab the back of your neck, swallowing the gasp that erupts from your mouth when he pulls you that much closer. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, biting at it and almost cutting into your soft flesh.

Despite your moans, you refuse to submit. You kiss him back hard, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hauling yourself towards his mouth. His hands drag down your back, pulling you closer with a groan, the sound causing your insides to churn. He uses his mouth to part your lips, his tongue plunging inside your mouth and gently teasing your own.

One of his arms winds itself around your waist, while the other one slides down to caress your rear. You gasp into his mouth again, but he strokes your cheeks through your dress, his fingers dipping between your thighs and brushing against your womanhood.

When you pull away from his lips for air, he’s already working at the ties of your dress, pulling a little too harshly, the sound of tearing fabric terribly loud in your ears, your cunt now stinging with lust.

Thor watches with fascination when he finally gets the bodice of your dress untied, your breasts spilling forward when released from their confines, his mouth watering at the way your nipples pucker up and harden before his heated gaze. He smooths a hand down the valley between your breasts, enjoying the way you gasp and pant under his touch.

Your dress pools at your feet, leaving you bare and vulnerable before him. Time seemed to stop as you stared at each other, chests heaving with desire, blood rushing dizzily fast through your veins. He quickly closes the distance between you and throws himself over you again, his hands tugging at your hair before sliding down to brush over your hardened peaks, down over your navel, and then between your legs. You find yourself spreading them for him, sighing with pleasure when he presses his hand over your mound.

He backs you gently to press you against the wall behind you, before brushing one more kiss over your lips and kneeling between your legs. Your hands fly to his shoulders for leverage, resisting the urge to clamp your legs shut as his beard scratched at your inner thigh.

“Thor!” You gasp, but it only encourages his tongue to lunge out, to glide roughly over your throbbing clit, over the wet dangling petals peeking out from between your slit. “Oh, slow down, please!”

You would have been embarrassed at how fast you reach orgasm, if he weren’t still suckling at your folds with vigor as you come. Despite the fact that he’s the one on his knees, you feel tiny and miniscule in his skillful hands, helpless as he buries his face between your folds, drinking you down like he’s a man parched, and you are his canteen full of life-saving water.

You are still shaking when he releases you from his mouth, standing up to undo the front of his trousers and pull his erection free from the layers of fabric. He turns you around roughly so that your back is facing him. He pushes you up against the wall with his own large body, trapping you between him and it, like a helpless little lamb being led to the slaughter.

He doesn’t take his eyes from you as he presses his pulsing cock against your weeping slit. Without needing to be told, you reach down to line him up with your entrance before he slowly sinks into you.

You whine, splaying your hands against the wall as Thor spears you open. He’s thick and long, stretching you so thoroughly that you find yourself holding your breath, a hand clamped over your mouth so you don’t scream.

“Am I hurting you, love?” The term of endearment has your walls squeezing around him in joy, and he shoves his hips forward, sliding all the way inside you until he has nothing more to give.

“More.” You breathe as you shake your head, yelping behind your hand as he slides out painfully slowly, before slamming into you so deep you thought your legs might give out. If he weren’t pressing you flat up against the wall, you would have lurched forward from the force of his thrust.

You are the fire princess of Hell, but he is the one burning hot inside you, almost scalding your insides, plunging deeply into you, teeth grating, jaw clenched, hands clutching desperately at your hips.

“All this time,” Thor relishes in your panting in time with his forceful thrusts, the way your ass ripples every time his pelvis meets your flesh. He groans when he feels you come again, squirting your release all over both your thighs, your walls fluttering delightfully around him, pulling him deeper inside you. “All this time you’ve been doing it on purpose, haven’t you?”

“Ah!” He doesn’t slow his brutal rhythm, even as you gasp and shudder, even as reach behind you to push at his hips in hopes of finding some reprieve from the overstimulation. It is a futile effort; he’s so much bigger than you after all.

“You’ve been tempting me all this time. Testing my patience. Flirting with my brother. Just waiting for me to snap?” His hands snaked up your body, worming their way between you and the wall to squeeze at your breasts, tugging and twisting your nipples between his fingers. Your cunt squeezed at the base of his cock every time he bottomed out, his thighs now drenched in your quim. He leans forward to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear, his hips still moving at a near frantic pace.

“You’ve been driving me to the brink of insanity, Lady Y/N. But I’ve had you now, and do you know what that means?” All he gets in response is a series of mewls and grunts as he continues to thrust into you, chasing his own desperate release. “It means you are mine. You. Are. Mine. Am I clear?”

“Ohhh!” You moan, not thinking it was possible for him to fuck you any more forcefully or passionately than he already was, but somehow he manages it. He moves faster, drives himself further inside you, the sound of skin slapping harshly on skin has you teetering over the edge of another orgasm.

“You haven’t answered me, my lady. Or do I need to spank it out of you?” It’s not much of a threat, the image of you bent over his strong thighs as he strikes your ass with his large hand only has your back arching involuntarily in pleasure. You push your ass back onto him, grinding down against his pelvis in search of your final climax, judging by the way he swells inside you.

“It means you’re mine, too.” You gasp between his vicious thrusts, reaching up to grab a fistful of his blond hair and pulling hard enough to draw a moan from your fiancé. He chuckles, deep and low, in your ear.

“It means I’m yours, too.” He confirms, sending a river of bliss crashing through you, sweeping away all the sadness, the disappointment, and the insecurities, leaving behind only pleasure and warm contentment.

Thor grunts behind you, the rhythm of his hips faltering before he stills completely, his body jerking as his cock pumps jet after jet into your softness. You shake and tremble together through the pinnacle of your climaxes, before he relaxes, softening inside you, and loosens his tight grip on you.

The doors swing open, Loki’s enchantment now ineffective. Thor quickly moves to cover your nakedness with his own still clothed body, shoulders slumping slightly when he sees Loki standing in the doorway. The younger prince makes a face when he sees your discarded dress on the floor, lifting a hand in front of his face to shield his eyes from the scene.

“Well. I’m guessing the wedding’s still on, then.”

~Fin~

Notes: Eek! Please do let me know your thoughts and/or thots! If you liked this story, please reblog so that others can find my writing <3 Thank you!

#thor x reader #thor x f!reader #thor smut #thor imagine

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