#dark!thor

[yesterdayssmudgedmascara]

Beyonddd good

Re your dream: That smacks of MobBoss!Thor. Your current boyfriend is one of Thor's higher-ups and he brought you along to a dinner meeting and Thor is immediately taken with you. Thor is of course very charming and starts working on how to steel you away from your boyfriend.

Take a Seat

Warnings: allusions to mafia/crime, intimidation, suggestions of verbal and mental abuse, toxicity.

This might just be a drabble, but I'd appreciate a reblog and some feedback! You are loved and appreciated. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

"Those are mostly capos," Travis keeps his voice low as he points to the table nearby, keeping the glass in hand to hide his gesture, "I think…" he cranes around, "I might be the only soldier here…"

"Really?" You raise your brows but quickly resume your neutral preen.

You're intimidated as it is. You don't know much about Travis' business, and this is your first time seeing it from the inside. However, it doesn't seem to be anything more than an overly fancy dinner party.

"Oh, and that's Loki," he darts his eyes sharply to a slender man strutting at the other end of the room. He has a short liquor glass in hand and stops to lean on close to a blond man along the head table, "the boss's brother. The one he's chatting up right now." Travis leans in, "Thor…" he explains, "hon," he puts his hand on yours, "try not to stare. Lot of guys in here don't appreciate it."

"Sorry, I…" your eyes catch the pair of blue irises at the near table. The ones set into the chiseled face of that man proclaimed boss, Thor. Your lips part in surprise before you quickly avert your gaze. "I'm just nervous."

"Yeah, uh, well, try not to look like it," he reproaches. "Maybe…maybe I shoulda come alone."

You try not to frown. He does that. When you go out to dinner, if you don't keep a smile pasted on, suddenly the night is spoiled. Or even at home when you're having a quiet night in, you can ruin the night with one wrong word.

"I'll keep my eyes to myself," you promise, "okay?"

"Right," he nods past you and greets another man as he passes by. "Make sure you do. And if someone says hi, don't be so shy. I don't need you getting on the wrong side of these guys." He grabs his glass and takes a gulp, "this could be my in."

"Got it," you pinch the stem of your champagne flute and draw it closer but don't drink. Better not, sobriety will keep you out of trouble.

💍

Travis ends up at another table, enthralled in conversation with a pair of greasy haired gangsters in patterned velvet jackets. You stare at the table, trying not to attract any unwanted attention. Dinner is over and dessert has mostly gone untouched. You're just waiting for the end.

Thinking of the drive back, you should try to hit the bathroom before that. You peek around cautiously and stand, hugging your clutch to your side as you carefully sidle out from between the table and chair. You keep your head down and make your way to the wall, following it to the short hallway that leads to a set of restrooms.

Inside, you take your time, relieved at the moment of privacy. As you wash your hands, you watch your reflection. You look tired even through your makeup.

You grab your purse and go back out. You hold back a yawn as you get to the end of the hallway and you stop to search the room, making sure Travis is where you left him. You take a step, nearly tripping as a deep voice rumbles from closeby.

You think of ignoring it, assuming they're speaking to someone else, but then you remember what Travis said. You turn and look around.

The blond man, the one with the burly shoulders that threaten the seams of his tailored jacket, grins at you. His fingers are woven together and his elbows rest on the table. He winks at you as you peer around in confusion, expecting someone else to be closeby. It's only you.

"You," he separates his hand and points in your direction, "I do not know you."

You open and close your mouth. You step closer as you swallow and find a smile through your nerves. You grip your purse tight and pronounce your name.

"I'm with Travis. Er, Mallory. My boyfriend. Uh, sir."

His eyes twinkle with amusement, "Thor," he introduces, "sir? Please, none of that is needed. Not for a pretty woman like you."

"S-thank you, Th-Thor," you sound utterly stupid as you try to keep your calm. If Travis saw you talking to this man, you know it would be bad. He wouldn't want you messing up his prospects.

"Sit," his invitation is more a demand.

You can't refuse. What little you know of this business suggests he is even more dangerous than Travis. You go around the table as Thor stands and pulls out the empty chair next to him. You sit and make yourself breathe.

"Boyfriend?" He resumes his seat, angling to face you, "not husband?"

"Not yet," you say.

"And why would he wait?" He wonders as you wilt against his handsome gaze.

"I'm sure he'll propose soon," you shrug, "dinner was great."

"Ah, it was delicious," he sits back, "though my company was not so pleasing." He bends his arm against the table, "not like you."

"I… thank you. That's very, uh, flattering."

"It's the truth. I'm afraid I was probably poor company myself. Being as distracted as I was," his eyes cling to you, "wondering who this beautiful stranger is."

You look away. He's charming, if not a touch cheesy. You don't know how to handle it.

"There you are," Travis saves you from your conundrum. "I was just thinking we should–" he stops and clears his throat, "sir," he stands at the end of the table, "hi, er, I didn't see you there," it's obvious his surprise is fake, "Travis Mallory, I work with Haakonson."

"Ah, yes, he is a reliable capo," Thor shifts and puts his hand on the back of your chair, "I was only just having a discussion with your… girlfriend."

"Oh? That's…great," Travis is less than convincing.

"Yes, I was just agreeing with her that it's really too bad you haven't proposed," Thor asserts and your eyes widen. "A girl like her should have a ring on her finger."

"Yea, sir, I agree, I, um, I was… trying to surprise her–"

"Ah, so you have a ring? Diamond? I think a teardrop becomes this one but she might do well with a princess cut," Thor proclaims as he takes your hand, drawing a wince from you. "She should be adorned in gold and gems."

"Sir, I know, I've been working on it–"

"Ah, ah," Thor keeps his hand on yours, "I don't like excuses. And she shouldn't settle for them."

Thor raises your hand and kisses your knuckles. You can only let him. Your scalp spatters with heat as you nearly combust between the two men.

"She deserves a throne… look at her, a queen."

"Sir, thank you. She is. I take care of her–"

"Do you?" Thor accuses, "how do you take care of her?"

You don't dare tug your hand away despite the urge to do just that. You sit frozen as his hand crushes yours. You slowly turn your head to glance at Travis, his cheek twitching in agitation.

"I…" he swallows and tries to wet his dry mouth. He can't yell this man into submission and he knows it.

"Let me give her the throne she deserves," Thor snickers and leans over. His nose tickles your ear and he lowers his voice to a whisper, "come, kitten, sit in my lap."

He sits back and you gape at him, shocked by his suggestion. No, it's an order. You blink and look at Travis again. Thor hits the table with his large hand, the plates and cutlery clattering.

"You don't need his permission," he pulls on your arm, "you need only my word."

"S-sorry," you slide forward in the seat and stand stiffly.

Thor releases your hand and shoves his chair back, running his large hands over his thighs. You step in front of him and he frames your hips, pulling you down before you can think to refuse. You fall into his lap, bracing his forearm to keep your balance.

"Now that is where a woman like her belongs," Thor leans into you and rests his chin on your shoulder, "with a king, not a peasant."

You look at Travis, horror pumping in your veins, a fear reflected in his drawn face. Thor brushes a hand up your stomach and turns his head to nuzzle your neck. The tickle of his beard makes you moan.

Thor lifts his head at last, his arm hooked around you as he clings to your tightly, "what a wonderful gift you brought me, soldier."

Travis does not move. He just stares, blinking as his fingers twiddle at his side. Your lip trembles. What do you do?

"You are dismissed," Thor enunciates harshly.

Travis bites down, jaw clenching tightly, and he murmurs, "yes, boss."

His sole scuffs as he drags his foot back. You watch him in disbelief. He's just leaving you there.

"You see, kitten," Thor reaches to pet your head, "he is not good enough for you. You deserve more than a coward."

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Old Scars, New Blood Masterlist

Summary: Reader has accepted that she’ll never be wanted, not only by the man she’s crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

[marvelobsessed134]

Take Me

Pairings: Dark!Vampire!Thor Odinson x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: smut,dub/non con, threats of death, reader blacks out in the end, breeding, master kink, sub!reader, dom!thor

Recommended song to listen to while you read: Take Me by Solya

It was pitch black outside, minus your flashlight as you tried to make your way through the swampy woods. Twigs cracked under your feet as you tried to navigate your way home. You shouldn’t have wandered out where you could get lost, you knew better than that. But you did it anyways, and now you have no idea where the fuck you are.

Owls could be heard in the distance, the swampy waters quiet unless a duck or some other animal jumped into them. You could hear crickets in the bushes. It smelled like salt for some reason, or maybe you were just smelling something else but it smelt like a salty swamp smell.

You could’ve sworn you heard someone or something behind you, but when you’d look back, no one was there. So you just kept walking. You instinctively pulled your sweater closer around yourself.

Footsteps were heard once again and before you could turn around, they were speeding up prompting you to run. You almost tripped on a log as you booked it through the woods, not knowing where the hell you were going. Your only objective to get away from whatever was chasing you. Suddenly, you came across an abandoned church and ran inside, locking the large wooden doors behind you. When you leaned against the door you spotted a figure standing at the pastors podium.

“I- I’m sorry I didn’t know anyone was in here. I just needed a place to hide something was chasing me and-“ suddenly the figure was no longer there and was right beside you. Your scream caught in your throat, you dropped your flashlight to the floor.

It was a tall, long haired, blonde man. He was quite handsome if you say so yourself. But he looked a little disheveled and had a dark primal look in his eyes. But what really set it home was the fangs.

“Please don’t kill me.” You pleaded weakly. His large hand caressed your cheek, “I won’t if you’re competent. Disobey me and I will take your life.” His voice was deep and somewhat sexy. You hated the fact you felt tingly.

“O-okay.” You replied in a shaky voice. He tilted your head up with his hand clenched on your jaw.

“W- wait! Can I ask a question?” You knew you were risking your life here, but you at least needed to know who he was.

“Go ahead, my pet.” Your eyes widened at the nickname but then cleared your throat, “W-were you the one following me just a few minutes ago?”

A smile spread across his lips, “Yes, it was. You’re so smart, little bunny.”

The vampire pressed his lips to yours and encaged you against the doors of the church, ravishing your lips like they were his last meal-if he were a human, that is-and the worst part was that you enjoyed it. You were scared, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. He let out a low growl at your competence, grabbing your waist with his right hand while his left hand stayed on your jaw.

Once he pulled away, he said, “You will address me as master. Understand?”

“Yes…master.” You replied weakly. The larger man let go of your jaw making you conveniently fall to your knees. You looked up at him as he unbuckled his pants. You noticed he dressed like the men in the Gothic novels you’ve read. The blonde also took off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it haphazardly across the room. His cock sprung up hitting his abdomen. He was…huge to say the least.

“I’m going to assume my little bunny already knows what to do.” His voice was low and grim. You nodded and wrapped your hand around his shaft, jerking him off slowly, before putting his tip into your mouth and sinking your mouth down onto it, letting it hit the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck.” The man moaned.

You continued to suck him off, letting yourself be completely at his mercy, forgetting every traumatic thing that happened to you tonight.

“Get up.” He commanded and his dick popped out of your mouth with an embarrassingly loud pop. You stood up, staring up at the man who only just minutes ago you were terrified of. He kissed you once again, “Go bend over the bench, bunny.”

“Yes master.” You responded, taking off your sweater, your cotton floral dress, and underwear. You bent over one of the many benches in the church and not long after you felt his presence behind you again.

He gripped your hips, “Such amazing bone structure. Perfect for child bearing.” Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you heard his words and you tried to get up but he held you down.

“Try to disobey me again and you will face serious punishment. Understand, little bunny?”

“Yes, master.”

“Good girl.”

The blonde ran his finger up your dripping folds. “Excited, are we?” You cringed at the phrase but didn’t make any move to leave, afraid that would cost you your life.

The vampire lined his tip up against your entrance before pushing in, pounding into you without warning-not that you were expecting one from him anyways-hitting your g spot everytime making you scream and clench around him, tears falling down your cheeks.

“So fucking good, knew you were the one.” You didn’t pay much attention to his words, overwhelmed by the feeling.

“My new wife, won’t disappoint me like the others.” He smacked your ass as he continued to drill into your tight hole, you felt him twitch inside before spilling his release deep inside your womb.

The blonde leaned down whispered in your ear, “This will only hurt for a little, my dear.” Before something sharp broke the skin on your neck and you saw black.

[boxofbonesfic]

I can't stop thinking of possessive fire fighter Thor 😌🥴

welp, nonnie, now I can’t either. maybe you weren’t thinking quite this dark, but… 😅

Title: Everloving

Pairing: Dark!Thor x Reader

Summary: A one night stand has worse consequences than you ever could have imagined.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Arson, Noncon, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Implied Basement-Wife, Stalking, Breeding, Darkfic, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Minors DNI!

[divider by @firefly-graphics]

You stare at the ceiling over his shoulder as you catch your breath, your fingernails still dug hard into the muscles rippling beneath his skin. You’re still spiraling back down into yourself when he pulls back, leaning up on his elbows to grin dopily at you. His blond hair falls handsomely across his face, and the corners of his bright blue eyes are crinkled with his smile. 

 “See, Peach?” Thor says with a wink, his breath still a little short. “Told you I would take you to Valhalla.” 

 You raise a hand to your head, fingers curling in your hair as you laugh breathlessly. It’s a corny joke—and it was even cornier when he’d fed you the pick-up line in the bar, complete with his sultry little every girl needs a firefighter, Peach. It had been so corny you’d been left wondering if it was specifically engineered to get you to laugh yourself into his bed, but the earnest look on his face makes you second-guess your two minute drunk assessment. The firefighter’s uniform he’d told you about is hung up on the back of the door, too, lending credence to his honesty. 

 “Why is that funnier the second time?” You say, and he laughs. He eases up off of you, and your cheeks heat as you feel him slip out of your puffy, still throbbing cunt. You sit up, pulling his blanket up over your bare chest self-consciously. Thor, it seems, is just as glorious in nudity as he is clothed, back muscles rippling as he turns to the closet, and pulls out a hand towel to clean himself off. You hear a tinny sounding thud as he tosses the condom into the trash-can next to his desk. He offers you a towel and you take one, hurriedly swiping between your own thighs.

 “Do you want to shower?” He asks over his shoulder. “My roommate’s won’t be back for a few hours, so if you wanted to shower and crash—”

 “That’s okay,” You say quickly, snatching your shirt off of the back of his desk chair, using his blanket as a somewhat unconventional toga while you shimmy into it. “I should get going, it’s pretty late.” You flash him an apologetic smile as you tug up your jeans. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” 

 “No, it’s totally fine, they won’t mind. And maybe tomorrow we could get breakfast—”

 “I don’t think so,” you say stiffly. “I’ve got work in the morning.” 

 “Right, right,” he laughs a little awkwardly, stepping back into his briefs. The elastic snaps as he pulls them back up around his waist. “Well, maybe we could go out another time?” 

 You answer him with a shake of your head. “Sorry, I just, um….” You blow out a breath, rocking back and forth on your heels nervously. “I’m not like… looking for a relationship. Right now.” You smile apologetically. “I just, you know. Just got out of one, and it was a whole thing, and I just… I’m not ready, right now for another commitment like that.” His face falls, the boyish grin on his face disappearing as he regards you. 

 “Oh.” 

 “I’m sorry,” you say again, feeling the tension thick in the air between you. “I um. I had fun.”

 “Yeah. Me too.” A look you can’t read crosses his face, and he lifts his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it. He doesn’t say anything else as you shrug back into your jacket and flee his room, navigating back down the dark hallway toward the door. Your sneakers are in a messy heap by the front door where you left them, and you step into them quickly, eager to be out of his apartment. 

 You pull up your rideshare app as you walk down the block, trying to put a little distance between yourself and Thor before you call. For some reason, you don’t want to do it right outside, not that you think he’d watch you through the window like some creeper—

 Or would he?

 Either way, you call when you’ve reached the bodega on the end of his block, and in five minute Jeffery in a white Hyundai Sonata is pulling up to the curb. 

 Omw home. Your text pops into the roommate groupchat, and it’s not thirty seconds before you see three different speech bubbles appear in the bottom left corner. 

 Heather: girl. it’s one-am!!!!

 Bobbie: girl shut up, she was getting her back blown out by that hot blond lmao

 Heather: twisted into pretzels lolll

 Kirsten: none of you are asking the real questions. how was it???????

 You stifle your laughter with your hands, glancing at the rearview mirror before responding. 

 I will be home in ten minutes. You all will just have to wait. You are, of course, greeted by shrill giggles and questions the moment you walk through the door. You deliver the details as painlessly as you can muster, choosing not to describe the heartbroken look on Thor’s face when you’d tried to let him down as gently as you could. 

 “I mean, you’re totally right. You shouldn’t jump into anything so quick, not after Jimmy.” Bobbie nods sagely at you in approval. 

 “I dunno. He seemed sweet,” Kirsten says dreamily. “Might be a nice guy.” 

 “He was looking for a serious girlfriend, K,” you reply, stretching as you turn toward your room. “And I am not doing serious right now. Bobbie’s right.” 

 After a hot shower, you flop tiredly onto your bed and burrow under the covers. You’re still a little sore from earlier, and you bite your lip, wondering if you’d made a mistake. No harm in letting him shoot his shot, right? That’s what Heather had told you in the bar when he’d first begun sending you drinks, and what had rung in your head when your casual conversation had become boldly flirtatious. 

 There are plenty of other fish in the sea for him. You turn over, pressing your face gratefully into the pillow, confident that by tomorrow morning, Thor wouldn’t even remember your name. 

 ——

 The smell of smoke wakes you, only seconds before Bobbie is hurriedly shaking you awake. 

 “Fire! Fire get up now!” 

 Blearily you sit up, registering the shrill beeps of the fire-alarm just before you choke on thick, hot smoke. It’s filling the room, curling against the ceiling as you sit up, shoving your feet into your slippers. Bobbie’s hand is tight around yours as the two of you race for the door, followed by Heather and Kirsten. The hallway is filled with the other residents, everyone rushing out of the building in a crushing stampede. You’re dizzy, your throat hoarse and your eyes red and watering as you and your roommates watch your lives billow up into the night sky. 

 The street outside is chaos as the firetrucks arrive, men in uniform pushing through the crowd. You’re still staring numbly at your burning apartment building when large hands land on your shoulders. 

 “Peach? Peach you okay?” Thor pushes up his visor, his face filled with worry. 

 “She’s inhaled a lot of smoke, she was the last to get out,” Bobbie says worriedly. You’re forced to agree—every breath feels raw, like you’d swallowed some of the fire yourself. “Is there an ambulance coming?”

 “Yes, there is, but if it’s that bad, I should take her to the hospital now,” He says, snapping his visor back down. Thor’s grip is like iron as he steers you towards the back of one of the small response vehicles, and he hands you an oxygen mask and a little tank. “Breathe through this for a little while, Peach. You’ll feel better in no time.” 

 The street is clogged with vehicles, and Thor steers patiently around them while you sit in the back and try to catch your breath. The smell of the fire, the lights and the sound of sirens fade gradually behind you as you watch the building disappear in the rearview mirror. Eventually, all you can see is the thick column of smoke curling into the still dark sky in the distance as Thor gets onto the highway. His blue eyes meet yours in the mirror. 

 “How are you feeling?” He asks. The oxygen is certainly helping, though you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to be feeling quite this light and giggly. Oxygen deprivation makes you high right? Or is that something else?

 “Like I almost got barbecued,” you say, lowering the mask. A hoarse laugh escapes you. “Sorry. But I did almost die.”

 He smiles at you in the mirror. “It’s alright. A bit of morbid humor is to be expected.” You realize with a glance out of the window that you’re far past the hospital. It isn’t funny, but you giggle. In fact, he’ll be out of the city limits in another few minutes. “Besides, It’s probably the nitrous.” You squint at him. 

 “What?”

 “Nitrous Oxide, Peach. In the canister.” He winks at you, though he’s spinning in the rearview—or is it my head? Your limps are limp and uncooperative as you tug at the mask, gasping for air as your vision tunnels. You get it off, but it isn’t enough, and you gape at the air like a fish as you try to swallow it down into your lungs.

 Your ears are ringing, and black spots dance in your vision as you slump sideways over in the seat. The roof of the car swims in and out of focus as you gulp down lungful after lungful of air. You don’t know how long Thor’s been driving when he pulls over—twenty minutes? Thirty? But your head is still buzzing, your vision unfocused when Thor opens the back door. 

 “I am sorry you got hurt, Peach,” he says, managing to sound disgustingly apologetic as he reaches for you. You kick at him, but he’s so big and so coordinated and you are not, and he presses you to the seat, hovering over you like he had earlier this evening. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” 

 His admission drags a ragged sob from your throat as your eyes widen. You wail, your struggles renewing themselves until you’re exhausted. Thor remains immoveable above you, like your efforts have done nothing but delay, and perhaps irritate him. 

 “You set the fire.” He doesn’t deny it.

 “Magnesium shavings and alcohol.” He taps the tip of your nose with a finger.  “I like you so much, Peach. I just… I couldn’t watch you go out again with someone else.” He catches both of your wrists in one large hand and pins them to the seat beneath you. 

 “T-Thor,” your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “S-stop, I—”

 He hushes you with a kiss, moaning as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You whimper into his mouth and he swallows it hungrily, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and worrying it until it swells. 

 “I just want to start over,” he repeats your words from the bar, hours—a lifetime—ago back to you, dark sincerity dripping from every word. “Pick up and start over—”

 “Shut up!” You cry, tears welling in your frightened eyes. “You don’t know me!”

 “Maybe not yet,” he hums, dragging his lips down the salty tracks over the curve of your cheek. “But we have time.” The fingers of his free hand slip beneath the loose elastic waistband of your pajama pants to cup your bare pussy. He heaves a pleased sigh. “No panties? Peach you are truly a treasure.” He parts your lips with sure, unhurried motions, his fingers sliding through your folds. 

 You try to close your thighs around his hand, but he doesn’t let you, wedging himself between your thighs. 

 “P-please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—” You babble apologies that he doesn’t seem to hear, his touches ironically soft and unhurried. “Thor please—!” His lips crush against yours again, turning the words into a frightened squeak. 

 “What’s the matter, Peach?” He asks, trailing down your jaw and over your pulse point. “Nothing we haven’t done before.” Thor’s pleased little hum makes shame curl in your belly. You’re wet. You know you are, and you hate yourself for it as he draws his fingers back and forth, spreading the slick through your folds with practiced ease. “See? She even remembers me.”

 Thor circles your entrance with gentle strokes, and you huff through your teeth to hide the whine that threatens to tumble from your lips. You hate him, his soft persistent kisses, the drag of his fingers through your traitorously aching folds. You hate it because it feels good, because he’s making it feel good, because it feels like you’re shattering into a thousand fractured shards in his capable hands, and you get the feeling that he wants you to. 

 Can’t fix what isn’t broken.

 You whimper at the burning stretch of his fingers, the heel of his palm grinding deliciously against your clit. When you clench your teeth against the pleasure, Thor clucks his tongue at you. 

 “Let it feel good, Peach,” he coos, scissoring his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches loudly in your throat, and Thor moans deeply at the sight, leaning down to suck a bruise onto your collarbone. “You don’t have to be in control anymore. You can let go.” He mumbles the words darkly against your skin as you feel his hips shift up. 

“You can just let me—” Thor reaches between your bodies, tugging the band of his briefs down over the thick shaft of his cock. “Do the thinking for both of us.” He groans as it pops out from under the elastic, slapping against the puffy, slick lips of your pussy. 

 Thor’s lips part in a soft “o” as he slides his cock back and forth, eyes rolling up to stare sightlessly through the roof of the car. His fingers dig into the fleshy curve of your hip, the other forcing your wrists down harder into the seat cushion. Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes and running down into your hair, acceptance settling like lead as you realize this is happening. 

 The head of his cock throbs hard as he pushes it against your swollen clit. You push down on the pleasure as hard as you can, trying not to let it show on your face. It’s useless though, as your thighs begin to tremble around his hips from the steady pressure at your clit. You writhe, trying in vain to buck him off. You only succeed in pushing yourself against him, pleasure rolling in sticky warm waves up your spine. 

 “N-no, ah—” You’re cumming then, your words are lost in the choked sob that tightens your throat. Cheeks flush with heat, you turn tear-filled eyes to Thor’s. He looks at you with an manic kind of joy, his fever bright eyes drinking in every detail. Your pussy is still throbbing, clenching tightly around nothing when Thor begins to line the head of his cock up with your cunt. He sinks in slowly, cursing as you squeeze down around him. 

 “Better with no condom, isn’t it Peach?” He says hoarsely, chuckling. “Not that that one made much of a difference,” Thor sinks in to the base, the heavy weight of his balls slapping wetly against you as he revels in the feel of you. “Poked it full of holes, just in case.” 

 He doesn’t give you time to mull over the words before he’s sliding out, sparks shooting in front of your open eyes as his cock drags along your walls. Thor groans as he fills you again, loosing your wrists so that he can anchor you to him with both hands. There is room in your foggy head for shame, but it does nothing to stop the sticky sweet rush of pleasure as he fucks into you with abandon, the truck rocking hard with his efforts. 

 What’s worse is that you can hear it, the lewd wet noise it makes as he slides into your welcoming cunt. You whine low in your throat as he pinches your clit between two fingers, rolling it back and forth until you’re twitching underneath him. Thor laughs. 

 “See?” He asks breathlessly. “And you say I don’t know you.” He leans down to kiss you again, swallowing the pathetic little cry you let out as he drags you over the edge. You hate that he’s all around you, in you, everywhere, filling you up until you’re overflowing. 

 When you cum, again it’s with Thor’s tongue in your mouth, and his throbbing cock in your cunt. He moans against your lips as his hips still, and dimly, you’re aware of slow, sticky heat settling in your core. He doesn’t move, his body pinning you to the seat. When he finally leans away, you try your best to pull your t-shirt back down over your bare breasts, staring stubbornly at the back of the front seat. 

 “Oh, Peach, don’t be mad at me,” he says, tucking his fingers beneath your chin. He pulls until it hurts, and you’re forced to look at him. You hate that he’s still inside of you, his cum leaking out to pool on the seat underneath your ass. He reaches down beneath the seat for something, but you can’t quite see it. “We’re going to be so good together.” 

 He produces the nitrous tank and mask, and your eyes widen with fear as you begin to struggle. It isn’t hard for him to push it against your face, though, and you hear a squeak as he twists open the valve. The gas rushes into the mask with a hiss, and it only takes a few panicked breaths before your vision begins to dim.

 “You’ll see.” 

 end

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[highonmarvel]

girl- i'd do ANYTHING for a very dark!Thor x f!reader where reader is kidnapped and enslaved by him. Noncon, violence will be great.

Love ya! And ty, no pressure :))

-🪐

no it did not take me five months to answer this, who said that. i do apologise for the nearly half a year wait, i’m not sure what’s wrong with me, but i appreciate the ask, and your patience! love you to the moon and to saturn 🪐 alright, here we go:

No Words, Just Screams

Thor Odinson: A quiet and dignified rejection leads to consequences that are the exact opposite of it.

Thank you to the absolutely incredible @buckys-wintersoldier for helping me with this. You are seriously, seriously the best person ever, I love you so much.

additional content warnings here!

CONTENT WARNING, PLEASE READ: This piece includes graphic depictions of violence. Seriously, this is really dark; do not proceed if you are uncomfortable with explicit descriptions of physical abuse and rape. This is your warning. This is fucking dark. I am going to hell.

Non Con Warning

For only the second time in your life you reject a man. He seems nice enough—Thor, is his name—and you’ve seen him around a few times at a mutual friend’s parties, but you’ve hardly spoken to him; he’s gregarious and outgoing and he gets along well with everyone, including you. Though you hardly know him, he’s never given you a reason to dislike him; very short pleasantries have always been comfortable and even humorous, and everyone around you says he’s cool, you’ve just never had the opportunity to really learn anything about him, especially considering he never sticks with one group during a party, making his way through the crowd so everyone gets a piece of him, although it’s never been too much for you.

That’s why you’re so taken aback when he finds you outside and confesses his attraction to you. You had slipped out to the backyard to take a smoke break and try to relieve yourself of the pounding headache caused by the constant yelling and booming music inside.

“I really, really like you. And I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime.”

“Oh!” you startle, really not having expected this. “I… I’m sorry but no… I just don’t know you too well.”

For a moment you wonder if that was the right call—you haven’t really been on too many dates but you know the general idea of them is to get to know someone, and who knows, maybe you’d actually find yourself attracted to him; he’s not bad looking at all—strong arms, blue eyes, blond hair, the works—but you can’t say anything on him as a person. Nearly as immediately as that thought crosses your mind, it’s swept away when his expression changes.

The usually lighthearted and easygoing demeanour he carries vanishes into thin air, and the somewhat bashful nature he had around you as he asked you the question turns into something a little darker, and more serious.

You really can’t tell what’s wrong with this guy. You try to tell yourself he’s just feeling embarrassed and maybe even a little sad right now, but for some reason you suddenly notice the extreme height difference and avert your eyes.

Deciding it’s best to head back inside, you try to push past him on the narrow veranda where he stands blocking your path to the door. He’s still as you move and for a second you don’t think he’ll do anything until suddenly a calloused hand clasps around your wrist and you yelp in fright jumping back at the touch.

“Sorry!” he apologises nearly immediately with a breathy half-laugh.

You look up from his hand restraining you to find his eyes have softened and his popular but not douchey energy is back, as if that earlier spell was just a trick of light.

“I’ve just… never been rejected before,” he laughs again and shakes his head. His words sound lightheartedly incredulous, innocently surprised, but his grip on you is so strong you’re starting to lose feeling in the tips of your fingers.

“Uh— yeah, alright,” he lets your hand fall free and you gasp as the blood comes rushing back, cradling your wrist in the palm of your other. “Just know that you’re incredible, and any guy would be lucky to have you.”

You want to thank him for the compliment and for his interest, but you’re sort of frozen in bewilderment at his weird juxtaposition; his words are soft and sweet, but he won’t meet your eyes, staring into the distance as if focused on something; his reaction to your rejection wasn’t extreme, but it was so unsettling you’d rather he have yelled at you.

You give him a quick, tight-lipped smile before rushing inside and shutting the door behind you, not really caring that you left him out there. For 15 minutes you half-dance lingering by the backdoor, but it never opens again and he never steps in. Oh, God, you really hope no one saw that, you’d rather not be bombarded with questions about why Thor ditched the party after seeing you, but you also don’t want to leave immediately and be interrogated on why you and Thor left at the same time. Eventually you stop hanging at the back of the house and dance your way to the main area where Nat is swaying happily.

“Nat!” you yell her name over the music, moving into her sight line to try to get her attention.

“Oh, hey!” she says in an excited and high pitched voice, “Where’d you go?”

“I just went out for a breather and spoke to Thor.”

“You did?” she replies, closing her eyes as she moves to the music, “That’s great, he’s great!” She’s clearly drunk and you doubt that even if you got her alone for a bit she’d be able to understand what you’re trying to tell her. And what even are you trying to tell her? He didn’t hurt you (intentionally), he didn’t do anything wrong at all, in fact, he was overwhelmingly nice, but the way he switched was spine chilling.

You just nod and continue dancing until your legs are tired. You pour yourself a glass of water at the drink table, looking out through the window it’s pushed against into the street where parked cars are lined up and down the road. But one car is in the middle with the engine running, and you swear it’s Thor’s, but it’s just sitting there, and it’s too dark to tell if it’s him inside. If it is him, what’s he doing? Is he waiting for someone? He came here alone, but he stayed sober tonight, maybe so he could drive a few friends home because he was just that thoughtful, but… maybe that’s not the reason he’s sober while everyone else—including you—is drunk as fuck or high as shit.

Your mind swirls in confusion—worsened by the alcohol—as you try to get your bearings, trying to decide if maybe you really are just being unnecessarily skeptical and harsh on him. Whatever his intentions, you still felt weirdly uncomfortable, and you’re not really able to enjoy the rest of the night feeling slightly unnerved by his earlier presence.

You give Nat a quick goodbye and she waves, but you’re not sure if she heard you say you’re leaving or if she was just swaying to the music. The cool night air calms you down as you step through the front door, but you’re not at peace for long before you stumble and nearly fall face first into the concrete with a shriek. But you don’t feel the impact, instead, you feel steady arms catch you, and hold you a little tighter than necessary.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice asks: Thor. Maybe he just went to drop someone off at home and he’s back now, there’s no reason to think he’s watching you or following you or anything like that; for Christ’s sake, you barely even spoke to him a few hours ago, you can’t even classify the interactions you’ve had with him as a conversation, and he’s known around here to be the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, so why does this feel so odd?

You grab onto his biceps to steady yourself, mumbling a thanks as you straighten to full height. You can’t really focus on his features considering you’re much drunker than you initially thought, but his cadence just doesn’t seem right.

What the fuck is wrong with this guy? Or, alternatively, what’s wrong with you?

“That’s not an answer, baby.” Baby? “You can’t even walk, let me take you home.”

The last thing you want to do is spend any time alone with him, even though you have to admit his offer seems better than sitting on the couch of a hot living room while people grind on each other all around you. What can you do? You’re feeling a little too out of it to reject his offer, but you know he can tell you don’t want this, and you know he can come up with a dozen reasons as to why you should get home, and why he should be the one to take you; you only really know Nat here and she’s in no condition to drive or even just walk you home, and you don’t live close, so walking alone isn’t just unfeasible based on distance, but after midnight is way too dangerous, and you might even hit the ground on your way.

His hand is light on your bicep, gently catching your attention as he gestures to his car with his other, like he’s laid a treat down to lure an animal into his cage. When you don’t move for a few moments, he guides you forwards; initially you try to resist him, planting your feet in the ground as he walks just a little ahead of you, but even his lightest tug is stronger than you can fight in this state, and you soon find yourself slowly walking with him, carefully eyeing the car.

He opens the back door and you slide in, head pounding and vision slightly blurred, but at least relieved you don’t have to sit next to him. You don’t realise you hadn’t given him your address until the car slows after ten minutes, and you groggily turn your now-heavy head towards the windows and peer at the unfamiliar yard the car is parked in.

Before you have time to question it, Thor gets out and slams the door behind him, the car rocks on its wheels and you try to clasp onto the car door but it’s flung open before you can latch onto it. A shrill squeal leaves your throat before your arm is caught in a death grip between a rough palm with fingers digging so hard into your arm you worry he’ll snap right through your bone.

“Thor—”

“Shut the fuck up!” he yells in your face, causing you to cringe back into the car but he harshly tugs you out and you fall to your hands and knees on the rocky pavement with a grunt, the stones splitting the relatively thin skin of your knees leaving abrasions dirty with sand and small rocks.

Thor’s hand tangles itself into your hair and you yelp as you grip onto his wrist and hastily stumble to your feet lest you risk him ripping your scalp off. If he feels your nails digging into his skin so hard trickles of blood run down your fingers, he doesn’t show it.

You let one hand go and attempt to swipe at him but he’s just far enough out of reach, and you’re not really able to land any hits on target given on your disorientation.

The door to what you assume is his house slams open and you’re flung so far in your slide across the floor for a few metres before hitting your head against the hardwood. You groan as you lift a hand to your temple to feel for a warm trickle of blood racing down the side of your face, but before you can bring your fingertips to your line of vision, a heavy and muddy boot presses onto your head, pushing your cheek into floor and clotting leaves and twigs into your hair. You gasp and try to reach back to pry his ankle off of you but he swats the hand away with one of his own and you let it fall to the floor with a whimper. He leans forward on his leg and lets out a disappointed sigh, crushing your face so your lips purse and you can’t even ask for him to stop.

“This could have been a lot easier, you know,” he says casually, as if saying yes to him was the definition of a no-brainer, and in his mind, it might have been; he’s never been rejected before, and by the way he’s behaving, you can tell he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Saliva drips out of your mouth and forms a small pool on the floor as he presses down harder, before he finally releases you and you’re able to place your hands underneath your shoulders and push your head up, and the room spins so fast you nearly regret doing so. You don’t have time for relief before you’re kicked so you have to roll over onto your back and stare up at this beastly man who seems to be becoming less human and more animal-like by the second, breathing heavily as if he’s the one who was practically thrown across the room and crushed under the weight of a tall man. His pupils have definitely dilated, making the anger in his eyes that much more intense.

Again he presses his foot down, this time to your stomach, knocking the wind right out of you. You try to squirm upwards from under him but he leans down and effortlessly wraps a large hand around your throat, stopping you in your tracks as you pivot your attention to prying him off of you and trying to get some air into your lungs again, ignoring the black spots that dot the corners of your vision.

He does finally let go of your neck but not before slamming your head into the floor, making you gurgle and sending a near-deafening ringing sound bouncing through your skull. You try to prop yourself up on your forearms but you can’t lift your head a few inches off the ground before it slams back down.

“I try… to be nice,” he growls as he steps over you, putting one foot on either side of your body, “And you… just wanna be difficult.” He brings his boot up and slams it down hard against your wrist, and your scream is so loud you nearly miss the unmistakable bone-crunching sound the stomp makes as your left wrist breaks under the impact.

“Please—” you begin, but are forced to let out a cry of pain as he presses down harder.

“I told you to shut the fuck up!” he bellows, but he finally frees your mangled hand and you gasp as you push over to your left side, wanting to grasp your wrist in your right palm but stopping short when noticing the hypersensitivity even as you brush your fingers lightly over your jagged skin is enough to make you want to pass out. “No words,” he continues, clearly trying hard to keep his voice level, though you can still hear the twinge of sadistic enjoyment at the edges of his words, “Just screams.”

He nudges you over until you’re lying on your belly again and makes quick work of kicking your legs apart. In anticipation of what’s coming, you try to kick at his crotch but he catches your ankle and crashes your leg back down to the cold, hard floor. The sound of him unbuckling his belt makes your heart rate pick up, drumming against your ribs is such harsh hits you’re scared it’ll break through. You try to claw forward but choke on a sob as you’re reminded of your broken wrist when the slightest movement causes blood to start painfully pumping through the site of injury.

When he spits in his hand, you break down and let out a wail, and based on the grunt he lets out as he strokes himself, it seems to only spur him on further. You don’t even know when he’s pushed your underwear to the side but when he feel his tip rest for a moment on your entrance, it makes you cry out a plea, using your right hand to claw at his thigh while hopelessly trying to thrash your legs with your thighs trapped under his knees that are painfully digging into your flesh, “No, no, no, please, please—”

He interlocks his fingers through yours making sure his palm presses down on your injured hand and his other hand pulls roughly at your hair to bring your head up. He spits in your face then slams your head back down so hard your teeth chatter and you taste warm blood filling your mouth.

He pushes into you with a frustrated grunt at how painfully dry you are, but that doesn’t stop him for long. He spits on his hand and reaches down to add a few wet fingers to his length, causing you to cry out at the painful and unnatural stretch. With a low growl in the back of his throat, he slowly pulls himself nearly entirely out of you before slamming his hips so far into you that you jerk forward and feel your walls tear around him. The sight of blood has him nearly drooling and makes his task of rocking into you a little easier, and you’re sick with the thought. You can’t even cry out for help, all your oxygen being used to actually keep yourself breathing despite your tortured cries and the fear you might actually split apart because of how relentlessly his massive length is pounding into you, literally tearing your cunt apart.

You feel his thrusts start to get sloppy as he loses his rhythm and his muscles tense up. With one final slam he releases himself and lets his heavy body fall on top of you, nearly suffocating you as you heave for enough air to cry. When he pulls out, you hear the disgusting sound of your blood mixed with his come before it drips onto the floor, and you hear him hum in delight as he shoves two fingers inside you earning a yelp before popping them into his mouth and moaning at the taste.

When his breathing calms down, he finally crawls up to look at you, your face stained with tears and snot and spit pooling underneath your flushed cheeks.

“Better get used to it, babe.”

ϟ

💛 [taglist: @pr300877, @cowboysnbugs]

[justjams2003]

Hello my love! I have a Thor request! So I just read thundering return and I loved it it’s so good!! So I was wondering if you could do something like that but different! So what if after reader gets her outfit okayed by Thor she goes out in the town with a guard since Thor had avengers work to do! But she falls and her dresss ripped and it looks like she did it on purpose.

She so tries to get back to the castle before Thor comes home but he beats her there and when she walks in with that ripped dress he gets mad and teaches her a lesson on being a whore if yk what I mean

Love your writing please take your time!! 🩷

~ sincerely silk 🫶🏾✨🎀🤍

Hello Pookie 🥰 Thank you so much for the request! I must admit I'm writing this at one in the morning so if there are any mistakes I do apologise! But I hope it is to your liking and that you enjoy this very much.

Pairing: Dark!Thor x slave!arraigned marriage wife!reader

Warnings: Mentions of a previous rape, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome-type situation, degrading, praising. Abusive relationship. Controlling, possessiveness, blowjob, face fucking, tell me if I miss any.

Word Count: 2,5k+ unedited

You’ve always liked the sun, warmth. You liked walking in the garden, feeling the rays warm your face and tan your skin. Your mother didn’t like that, she wants to keep you fair and beautiful for the possible marriage offers you might receive. Men did bet millions and billions for your hand but your mother was certain she could get more than money.  

And she did. You’ve done your family a great honour by being Thor’s wife. Connecting the family name to the Odinson name. Placing a veil of protection over the family of beauty. You thought that maybe finally having a husband would mean not having to constantly be hidden from the world like your mother hid you.... You can’t help but wonder how she is.  

“You shouldn’t sit in the sun, it’ll damage your skin.” Your maid echos while you sit on the porch of the castle. Your gaze falls on Thor and his company as they get ready to leave for their trip. You lean your body against the stone of the surrounding walls. Your chin leaning on your flat hands. 

You ignore your handmaiden. You like watching Thor. He looks so stern and kingly, pointing at a map, rubbing his beard and then pointing again. He walks up the castle steps, your heart races and your head rises, you must act properly if he’s going to talk to you. But, he walks past. 

Your eyes follow him as he walks back into the castle. You swallow the knot in your throat. You know what him going away means. It means you’ll be all alone. You’re not allowed anywhere without his knowing and consent. And if he’s not here, you won’t be going anywhere. 

You know deep down he won’t greet you when he leaves. He’s not soft with you when others are around like he is when you are alone. He doesn’t allow himself to be overindulgent when the others are watching. They mustn't know that their future king is weak, that he feels. 

He walks back out of the castle, through the doors and before he’s down the stairs you jump up. “My love?” Your voice is faint and sounds hesitant. Thor stops in his tracks and turns to you. He walks over to where you now stand. His head tilts, telling you to speak. 

“I was thinking, maybe, while you’re gone, I could just maybe possibly-” Thor glares and interrupts you before you ask what you really want to. “Don’t ramble, it’s unsightly. Get to the point.” His voice is rough and quickly jolts you into shape. “Right. Could I perhaps visit the market?” You wring your wrist in between your hands. His eyes fall on your hands and you stop, knowing he hates fidgeting. 

His eyes then seem to scan over your body. He’s picked out and bought each dress with obsessive detail. But some are more appropriate for outside the castle and others better for inside the castle than others. And you know now he’s assessing your current dress’ suitability. You turn around for him. 

He doesn’t give any concrete affirmation but only calls a guard closer. “She is not to talk to you or any other. She will be back before nightfall.” The night nods and stands just a few feet behind you. He’s guarded you before and knows the rules and regulations. A wide smile falls on your lips and you bend your head in a bow. 

“Thank you, my prince. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

The market is lively, and there is music going around from somewhere you can’t quite find. People are calling out prices for their items, trying to sell their wares. There is the smell of boar being roasted and beer being drunk.  

People step out of your way when you walk with your group of handmaidens and guards. “Your majesty. Wouldn’t you take these beautiful flowers to match your grace?” Your eyes fall on the old man trying to pay his respects to the princess. Your guts twist and turn. You know you have a duty to your people, to be kind to them. But also to Thor, to not take gifts from another man, no matter his age. 

You nod to your handmaiden to take the bouquet of flowers. Her brows furrow in worry for your well-being, and her eyes flicker to the guard. You both know he is going to tell everything notable to the prince. But she follows your command. 

“You keep it.” You speak to her once you’re past the flower merchant. Your handmaiden bows her head, grateful. “Please mind my arrogance in asking but was that wise, Your Highness?” She asks, she knows the blue bruises you carry on your skin. She is devout to her princess and not to her prince and doesn’t believe when she says he is soft. 

“Likely not. But I was not the one to accept the gift. You were. Is it not in your possession?” You ask, knowing you’ve found a technicality. She allows a knowing smile to grace her and again bows her head. Your eyes find the sun’s position in the sky. It’s low, much lower than you would’ve expected or liked. “We should go back.” 

But as all accidents happen, in a rush of bumbling and fumbling of steps in a panic to get something done quick. What’s the difference between an accident and on porpoise? One purpose is to plan something beforehand. An accident is an event that has unintentionally happened, that results in damage, injury or harm. And this was not planned and this does cause harm. 

But not harm as in the scrape on your knee. And not as in the harm to the fabric now noticeable to the tear in your dress from the ankle to right above the knee. But rather what would happen if Thor were to see this. The harm that would fall upon you if he believed that this was rather on purpose than an accident. 

You snap your head to your handmaiden. Your eyes and hers go wide with panic. Your heart falls in your shoes and at the same knocks around in your body in hysteria. You scramble to pick up all the material of your dress. You try to cover yourself with what little extra material you have. 

From there it was a mad dash. You’re glad being a princess allows you to move through the crowds rather quickly. Your head snaps back at the sky beginning to dangle dangerously low in the sky. To the point that the blue begins to bleed to blood red.  

Was the sun racing you? Determined to be the first to turn blue. Relief spills over you right as red splashes over into purple and then dark blue. Your feet hit the stone stairs with a clack on each one. But you do not bother because you believe you’ve made it home before Thor. 

That is until you storm into your bedroom. The smile instantly falls from your face. Your heart thumps in your ears like it does after you’ve run as far as she has. Sweat pours over her like a wave smashing everything to bits in its way. You soon hear your handmaiden stop behind you and gasp seeing the prince. 

“Leave.” He instantly commands the girl. She looks to you for confirmation and you give it to her. She closes the door behind her. You gulp, trying to steady your heart racing and your heavy breathing. He steps closer, one heavy boot at a time. If the castle was made of paper it would’ve crumpled. 

He tilts his head, “Who so out of breath?” He taunts you. He knows well the time restrictions set, but he wants to hear you say it. You keep your dress close to your body, hoping to keep the tear hidden for as long as possible. “I was instructed to be home before sunset.” 

You snap your head to the balcony, seeing the last rays of the star just barely creeping over the mountains. “I’ve done as instructed.” Thor hums, he’s looking for something to be wrong. Why else would you be so wide-eyed and frayed. Begging for his praise, distracting him with good done. 

His eyes inspect your body. Quite carefully. Until he spots it. He has to fight the grin that wants to form on his. He steps closer. He speaks: “Good girl.” He coos, but his hand reaches down. His calloused fingers find the tear and drags from there to your upper thigh and then some. 

“What the fuck is this?” Thor’s hand grabs onto your soft supple bottom flesh. He guides your leg to lift into his large hand. In one fluid motion, he has you against the wall, your now exposed leg being made to wrap around him by his iron grip. 

“It-it was an accident. I tripped and fell and the dress ripped.” You stutter, your mind is conflicting with your body. Your body likes his touch grabbing and squeezing onto your thigh. It incites a wet pleasure from you. But your mind worries, this is not the reaction you expected. 

Thor scoffs, “Please, that bullshit if I ever heard it. No...you did this on purpose.” Your eyes widen, not that you can be shocked, you expected this more than anything. You knew he’d blame you the moment you made contact with the floor. “No, Thor, please believe-” 

You’re stopped by his hand on your neck and a crazed look in his eyes. “Don’t think I haven’t seen those longing looks you’ve been giving me. You’re a needy slut for my attention and you’ve whored yourself out on the streets to get it.” Your breathing hitches at your words. You would fight but you know he won’t listen. 

“You forget your place, wife.” He snaps, tightening his hold on your neck. Your many years of training come back to you. He’s right. He’s right. He’s been gone so much lately on missions with those humans, you’ve been lonely and desperate for his attention. 

“Yes, my prince.” He grins at your words. He shoves you in front of the bed, now he’s ripping at your corset strings. Stripping you as quick as he can. Once you’re bare in front of him, he shoves you down to your knees. His bulge is proud in his pants in front of you. 

“You wanted my attention, you’ve got to work for it.” You take in a deep breath. This is what you wanted. Isn’t it? Why else would you beg like you did to go out? And then rip your dress in such a public place too? Your instincts kick in, you’ve done this a hundred times. 

You make quick work of his belt. It starts with quick and small kitten licks on his slit. His hand grabs your hair. “Come on, don’t be shy now. You’re a whore, act like it, damnit.” He grins, pretending that he cares about what you want. He wants to teach you a lesson. But it only makes sense, right? You did this to yourself. 

You take one big lick from the base on his cock up to his uncircumcised tip. You hollow out your cheeks and take as much of him in as you can. But he’s a huge man and no matter what size you are it’d be hard to fit him all in your mouth. 

“By Odin’s beard, you look just like those town whores you see in the filthy peasant villages.” He groans with a shit-eating smirk. You bob your mouth up and down. Coating his dick in your spit. You make sure to swirl your tongue around his vein just how he likes it. 

The other half of his huge cock that you can’t seem to bottom out, you pump with your hand. He growls at this, clearly not impressed with this shitty attempt at a blowjob. He grabs your head with both his hands. You know this stance all too well. Your eyes look up at him, silently begging him for mercy. 

“I don’t know why you look so scared. Isn’t this what you wanted?” His hips thrust, shoving his cock right down your throat. You gag, but there is no care in his eyes. You grab onto his thighs, trying to stabilize yourself. His crotch rapidly jerks forward and back over and over. Face fucking you with the power of the god he is. 

“Your dirty liar mouth feels so fucking good.” He gasps out, but you rarely even realise what he says. Your eyes are blurred with tears. Your throat burns from his dick stabbing you repeatedly in your oesophagus. Your ears feel almost blocked from the daze you're in being used as a face fuck. 

You can physically see his balls begin to tighten after a good while of him abusing your face. “Oh fuck...fuck...” He mumbles then looks down at you. His blue eyes are hazy with pleasure. “I’m gonna fill your mouth, you fucking slut. And your gonna take it all like the whore you are.” He commands you, but there isn’t much way for you to protest. 

His hot sticky seed flows down your throat. He slows right at the back of your throat. You sputter before taking big gulps. The bittersweet flavour burns your tongue and you can’t get enough of it. “Look at you, loving it. Such a bitch from me and so prim and proper for those other men.” He grins, knowing he can have you like this any time he wants. 

He pulls his still semi-hard cock out of your mouth. “Show me.” He orders, hands on his hips. You do as he asks, opening your mouth that you’ve done as wanted and drank all his cum. “Fucking hell...just look at that.” 

Thor bends down in front of you, his dick still out but he doesn’t care much for modesty when it comes to himself. “Aren’t I just the best? You come in here, dressed like some common harlot. I should’ve punished you.” His hand is on your chin and his thumb swipes at your bottom lip. “Yes, my prince.” He smiles at this response. 

“I saw that you were really just a needy whore for me and gave you my cock instead. Say thank you, you slut.” He’s almost disgusted with how nice he thinks he was. “Thank you, my prince, for showing your whore mercy.” No matter how hard you try to escape the mindset, you’ll always be his little slut. 

He suddenly takes your lips in his. Abusing your lips in a passionate kiss. “It’s because my whore is just oh-so-pretty. I just can’t say no to you.”  

[thehydraethereal]

ও hesh | she/her ⋆ 18 ⋆ fictional older men lover

⋆ DISCLAIMER ❥ THIS BLOG CONTAINS DARK PIECES OF WORK SO IF MY WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCONFORTABLE, DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS BLOG.

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ও 𝓘 𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝓐 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝓜 𝐘 𝓦 𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝓣 he themes i'll write from now on are mostly dark, which will include: manipulation, lying, violence (choking, hair pulling, etc.), domestic violence (slapping, etc.), abducting, captivity, restraints, depression, stalking, fear, crying, sexual harassment and nonconsensual touching/ kissing but nothing more than that !!! basically i'm exploring any dark theme. I WRITE ONLY THESE ELEMENTS, NO OTHER KINK. so, i would like to get some inspiration and you sending me requests would enormously help. please, don't hold back. i know how hard it may be to find a fic that has everything you'd fancy, and I'm so down to fulfill that for you. if you request a series, i'll make it happen, but please, if you're anon, choose an emoji for yourself so i know you. characters i will be writing for:

ও 𝓡 afe 𝓒 ameron ও chris evans: ari levinson, ransom drysdale, lloyd hansen, steve rogers, johhny storm, andy barber, curtis everett ও sebastian stan: lee bodecker, bucky barnes, lance tucker, nick fowler ও chris hemsworth: thor, tyler rake, steve abnesti, dementus, stone crandall, billy lee, the huntsman ও tom hiddleston: loki, jonathan pine, cpt. james conrad (kong), cpt, nichols (warhorse)

ও henry cavill: clark kent (superman), geralt (the witcher), sherlock holmes, melot (tristan and isolde), august walker, walter marshall

ও others: logan howlett (wolverine), wade wilson (deadpool), brock rumlow, any brad pitt character, patroclus (troy 2004), achilles (troy 2004) p.s: thank you for being so supportive. i am looking forward for your requests, i am so excited for this new chaper, so please, if you have ANY request, send it to me. (i am desperate lol)

[steverogersistheguy]

The song of the waves Dark!surfer!Thor x f!reader

GIF NOT MINE, found it on Pinterest <3

Warnings: none, for this chapter, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Thor seems the nice guy, but don't let yourselves fooled so easily. Also, English is NOT my first language, so if there are any further mistakes, I apologize. Enjoy! xxx

<- Ch.1

The plane trip seemed to last forever, but you had the chance to actually enjoy all this thing when you landed. As soon as your feet touched the sand, you inhaled deeply the salty air. The ocean was more beautiful than the pictures you saw on Google last night when you typed: Tavarua Island.

You finally persuaded your friends to walk to your hotel, and not to take a car, wanting to see the surroundings more.

When you stepped in the hotel, you could only ask yourself how much could all this trip possibly have costed. You tried to swallow the weird gut feeling you had, putting all your uncomfortableness on the theme it was a new place.

You unpacked, and arranged all your stuff on the cupboard in your enormous room. Tyler suggested you all stay inside, but you really wanted to go for a walk.

Despite your whole mood, you decided you were just paranoid and you left the hotel, walking and admiring the places. Your friends remained in their rooms, but you didn't care. It was too beautiful outside just to stay indoors, having tons of drinks and flirting with the hotel stuff, in your opinion.

You enjoyed the seagulls cranking, and the sound of the waves brushing the sand.

As you were walking around, you jumped when you heard a crack under your sneaker. It was a hermit crab, and you have cracked his peachy, almost skull-colored shell.

"oh, nooo..." you mumbled, picking him up. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry.." you whispered to the crab, hurrying to put it in a place where no one else could cause it more damage. You crouched down, your short dress reaching your thighs now.

As you were letting the crab go, you heard someone's step behind you. When you got up and turned on your heels, your face met a broad, muscular chest. Embarassed, you took a step back, finally looking at the man.

He seemed like a giant for you, and you felt so freaking infant in his presence. His piercing blue gaze made your words die in your throat, as you started fidgeting. He smiled, clearing his throat.

"Well, well...I haven't seen someone trying to save a poor creature so desperately." The man started. His voice sounded like thunder, deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine.

You looked down, cheeks flushing as you mumbled back akwardly "yeah, I-I...I like animals..."

He nodded in response, as he looked down at you. "I haven't seen you around before..." he declared, as you clenched your jaw, feeling his gaze burning holes through your skin.

"Y-yes, I'm on vacation with my friends" you admitted. You told him your name, as he hummed.

"I'm Thor. This island is quiet and we're not so many around... I live here, little one, I know everything" you blushed slightly at the nickname. "Maybe I can show you off this place, later today." Thor suggested. You nodded, as you opened your mouth to thank him. "We will come, sure..." You said. He arched his brows and asked "We...?" You nodded as he clenched his jaw, a possible hint of jealousness in his expression. "Y-yes, me and my friends...the ones I came with..." Thor looked at you deeply again, as a smirk curled his lips, but haven't reached his eyes. "Very well then, see you later, little one.."

You looked at him as he went further, putting on his suit and going in the ocean with his board. You started re-loading the conversation in your brain, as you returned to your hotel. All of a sudden, something else hit your mind. "Thor..." you thought "what an unusual name..."

You tried to fight the urge to ghost him and not come with your friend tonight, but he was just being nice....right?

🌩️🌩️🌩️

As Thor got in the water, he couldn't think of anything else besides you.

You were so innocent, so pure in your little dress, hair dancing in the wind. He groaned as he remember your legs, how the dress cupped your breasts perfectly, how sweet your smile was.

He felt himself getting harder, at the thought of you moaning his name, under him, bearing his children, having you all only to himself. From the moment he saw you walking on the beach, he wanted you, needed to have you. You were the one he wanted.

And he WILL have you, no matter what.

[michelleleewise]

Worthy Masterlist-

Pairing: Dark! Thor x female reader

Warnings: manipulation, power imbalance, coercion, drugging, abduction, stalking, mentions of past trauma, forced imprisonment, swearing, mild violence, dubcon/subcon elements, unwanted touching, each chapter will have its own warnings. Please read them before proceeding.

Summary: After your recent breakup your self esteem is at an all time low, so you take your friends advice and seek professional help, not knowing what may lie ahead....

A/N- mood board made by the lovely and talented @mochie85!!! Thank you so much!!! This is my first venture into dark stories, let's see what happens.

Again, this is a dark fic and 18+. Do not proceed if any of the warnings are upsetting.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

[springdandelixn]

Last Minute Encounters

Summary: The owner of the bake shop in your new neighborhood is a little over-friendly.

Warnings: Nothing to worry about but Thor is a warning himself.

Characters: Dark!Baker!Thor x F!Reader

A/N: Thor is one of the men I truly adore. Hence, I made a drabble to honor him especially since today is his day. Thor’s Day lmao. This plot has also been sitting in my drafts for a while and I felt that maybe this is the right time to introduce Baker!Thor into the world. (gif not mine)

As always, even if this is simply a drabble, your feedback is highly appreciated. Reblogs would be amazing as well for it will help my work flourish. May you guys have a great day ahead and of course, I hope you enjoy this! ❤️

A sigh of relief escapes you when you see the open sign of the bakery still glowing into the night. Pulling your puffer tighter around your waist, you look at both sides before crossing the road, the sound of the heels of your boots clacking against the asphalt bouncing off through the empty street. You take slow steps, careful not to slip against the icy floor but once you reach the other side, you see the sign close, your heart beating fast in panic as you race towards the door. 

“Please—” You say as you stand by the entryway, coming face to face with a burly man, golden hair held up in a bun with strands falling from the sides, with a stubble to match his features. He wears an apron over a red plaid shirt and with the way he looks at you, you see his eyes a striking blue.

“Can I help you?” He asks when he opens the door, his voice low yet full like thunder.

“Do you still have any cakes I can purchase?” Your voice shivers as you speak, the cold slowly seeping through your jacket. “Or anything, really. I just need something to bring to a party.”

Heat crawls up your neck and scatters on your cheeks when you see him give you a once over, a smirk slowly playing on his lips. He’s much bigger up close and you can’t help but feel intimidated by his size, making you feel even smaller. He swings the door open and holds out an arm, a gesture for you to come in. 

The warmth of the shop is a welcome aura against the blistering cold outside, yet you feel a slight chill run up your spine with how the man’s eyes linger, keeping them on you as he rounds the counter. 

“I only have cupcakes and cookies left. But if you really want a cake, I have a chocolate one at the back.” 

“I’ll take it.” You say almost in a hurry, blushing at the amused look the man gives you. “I’ll take the rest of your cookies as well.” You add. “The least I can do after allowing me in.”

“Very well.” He hums and taps against the register, giving you your total after. “You can tap your card when you’re ready—I’ll just grab the cake.” 

You nod at his instructions and watch him disappear from the double doors that lead to the back. Taking your credit card from your wallet, you press it against the device, waiting for the beep before stowing it back.

You’ve never really had the chance to go around the neighborhood when you moved in a week ago. The task to find anything to bring for a potluck party of your co-worker proved to be a struggle, being all too new and different from the town you grew up in, the sullen wasteland you escaped from. 

The bakery has always been one of the places you’ve wanted to go to. Hearing your neighbors rave about the pastries and treats they purchase for their morning coffee when they catch you at the mail room and corner you into an unwanted conversation. Though, you wouldn’t say such an exchange is meaningless, for, without the information they gave, you wouldn’t have known about this place. 

You look up when you hear the swoosh of the doors, the man holding a box in his hand, a transparent container with a lone cupcake inside sitting atop it. He places the box on the counter then slides open the display, taking the last 6 cookies on the tray and sliding them into a transparent bag, before tying a gold and red ribbon around it. 

“Will that be all, cupcake?” He asks and you startle at the name he’s called you. 

“Uhh—yes.” You mumble. “Thank you.” Your eyes then dart to the cupcake atop the cake then look up at him with utter curiosity. “I didn’t buy this.” 

“On the house. Salted Caramel Cupcake—my favorite. You should try it.” He grins then places the bag of cookies over the box of the cake, holding a card out to you after. You take it. “I’m having a soft launch for my new item.” He announces out of the blue. “I’d be happy to have you come by and taste it. I know you’re new around here and it would be a nice welcoming event for you.”

You’re curious as to how he knows that, but you don’t pay it much mind. The neighborhood is small and you don’t doubt he knows almost everyone around, and you’re the new face in town. You swallow thickly at his invitation, the grin on his lips looking overly friendly. “When is it?” You ask if only to be polite. 

“Next week. Sunday.”

“I-I’ll check my schedule.” You smile, although it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Thank you again—” You try to look for his name tag but see none.

“Thor. The owner.” He supplies before gesturing at the box. “You need help taking this to your car?”

“No, thank you. Just walking.” You volunteer. “Party isn’t far from here.” 

“Very well.” He rounds the counter when you grab your purchase, walking with you to the door and opening it, shivering as the winter chill blows inside the shop. “It was nice meeting you, cupcake. I hope to see you again.”

You cringe when he says the pet name again, mumbling your thanks as you walk out of the shop. You scurry to the other side of the street, making your way to the apartment of your co-worker. The calm and measured steps you’d usually take when walking during the winter become brisk and hurried as you sense Thor’s burning gaze at the back of your head.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you look back as you round the corner and see him still standing outside his shop, staring at you from the street.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Take Your Time

A sequel to Take a Seat and Take It Slow

Warnings: allusions to mafia/crime, intimidation, suggestions of verbal and mental abuse, toxicity, dubcon, smut, some untagged elements.

This might just be a drabble, but I’d appreciate a reblog and some feedback! You are loved and appreciated. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thor drags his fingertips along your arms and traces your silhouette. He brings his hand around your shoulders as you sit in front of him, brittle as ice. Frozen in anticipation. He extends his thumbs down and presses along your shoulder blades. You groan as he finds the tension nestled there. 

You react without a thought. You grip his knee and bite your lip as he kneads your muscles delicately. He draws up and down your shoulders, each time rolling higher up your neck. As he does, you feel even smaller. 

“You are wound tight,” he muses. “A woman such as you should live in recline. Never should you need worry about a thing.” 

You shiver at his declaration. His words are so sweet yet your doubt remains. This is a ploy. He is a dangerous man, just like Travis. No, even more. 

He trails his hands down your back, beneath the water, around your hip, and up again. He brings them all the way to your neck and slips one forward to frame your chin. He pulls you flush to him, his muscled chest warm against you, and tilts your head. He bows to kiss the side of your throat, his beard sending a ripple from crown to toe. 

“You do not believe me,” he speaks against your skin, “I can tell, so I must convince you.” 

His other hand hooks beneath your arm and he flutters up your stomach. He cups one side of your chest, squeezing with a purr as he nips cloyingly at your neck. His nose drags up to your jaw as he continues to ply you with his need.  

His hand slips from your chin as you lean into him. Your eyes close as goosebumps prickle across your chest. His hand dips down beneath the water. As he spreads his hand over the soft cushion of your stomach, his other thumb swirls around your nipple. He toys with your hard bud as your hand slips up and your nails dig into the firm muscle of his thigh. 

“You are delicious,” he growls as he drags his nose up to your cheek, “pet, let me taste you. 

You turn your face to him, quivering as you’re overwhelmed by his words and touch. You crane awkward to meet his lips as he kisses you. His tongue delves in without permission. His hand creeps down your pelvis and he feels along your tender folds. You gasp into his mouth as he rolls his fingertip over your clit. 

Your hips spasm. You try not to think, yet your head is a scatter with shock. Travis rarely did so much. He was the type to go right for the finish line, leaving you back at the start. 

Thor’s fingers push between your lips and he drags them up and down. He savours you with his touch and his mouth. He spreads you wide with two fingers, flicking with his middle one until your clit it sore and thrumming. You whine and part from his mouth, pushing your head back against his shoulder. 

“Ohhhhh,” you moan as you grip his legs, your own splayed wide in the tub. 

“That’s it, kitten, purr for me,” He drawls and rubs broad circles over your clit, “I feel you getting close.” 

“Mmm, mm, mmm,” you mewl pathetically. 

“I want you to say my name when you cum, kitten,” he nips at your ear as your head lolls. “I want you to tell me I own you.” 

He plays with you. Sliding his fingers around your clit then flick and rubbing, rolling and twirling. He twines your pleasure around and around, until you’re quaking and cooing. 

“Mm-- mm—mmph--” 

“Say it,” he snarls. 

“Oh, Th-Th-Thoooor,” you unwind in a twitching fit, bucking and shaking as your orgasm crests. “Oh, Thor, Thor, Thor.” 

You shiver and shudder through the ecstasy. You reach back and cling to his head, crushing your lips to his as you grind into his hand. It shouldn’t feel so good. You shouldn’t like it this much. Yet, you can’t remember why that is. 

He growls as his lips slip from yours. He retracts his hands and moves you off of his lap, turning you, then bringing you back to straddle him. His dick presses against your folds, adding to the thrum in your cunt, and you latch onto his shoulders. 

He smirks as he looks you over. His hand comes up to your chin, his fingers extending up to your cheeks as he grips your face. He tilts his head and laughs. 

“As I said, I am at your service, my queen.” His finger moves down to brush your lips. “Say you’re mine and you will have all you command of me.” 

Your look up at him, hypnotized by his sparkling blue eyes and the afterglow of his diligent tending. You nod into his hand. 

“Y-yes,” you rasp. “Yes, I’m yours.” 

His irises blaze and his hand drifts away from your face, he follows the curves of your body down to your hips and hooks his hands under your ass. He lifts you, surprising you as he stands at the same time. You squeal at the sudden height and wrap your legs around him. 

He carries you out of the tub. You feel precarious in his arms as he crosses the tile, his body slaking water onto the floor, your own skin damp and dripping. He enters the hotel room and your heart clutches in your chest as you sense another figure waiting. 

Two. 

You look over as Thor takes you toward the bed. You squirm in his grasp and yipe as you see that dark-haired man with his sleek suit and lithe figure. His brother; Loki. More concerning is the man at his side; the man in a chair, bound around shoulders, stomach, thigh and calf, ankles tied, wrists too.  

Travis sits gagged and terrified. One eye is swollen shut but the other is wide in horror as you gape back at him. Thor puts you on the bed and you push on his chest as he climbs up with you. 

“What-- What are you doing?” You whimper. 

“You are mine, kitten.” He states. 

“Wh-why?” You cover your face, humiliated. 

“No, no, do not hide,” Thor grabs your wrists and pulls them apart, forcing them to the bed. He pins them next to your head as he kneels between your legs. “Let him see what he could never give you.” 

Your lip trembles. This is humiliating. You did not believe his word and yet you are devastated. You knew better and yet it is a hard lesson learned. 

He releases your wrists, dragging his hands down your forearms. He trails along to your shoulders and down your chest. He fondles and gropes you shamelessly. You can hear Travis wheezing. 

“Please,” you beg weakly. 

“Please?” Thor echoes with genuine confusion. 

“It is... cruel.” 

“Cruel? Kitten, I do you a great favour,” he snarls and traces down your stomach. 

You bat your eyes up at him and pout. There is only gritty determination in his expression, shadowed only by lust. You swallow and lay limp before him. He takes a deep breath as he plants his hands on the bed and holds himself above you. 

“Put me in,” he commands. 

You sniffle and hesitate. Slowly you reach down between your bodies and grasp him blindly. You can’t help how your lashes flick in surprise. He is thick. Bigger in your hand than before your eyes. 

You pump him once and angle his tip along your cunt. You twitch, still sensitive and tingly. As you put him against your entrance, he leans into you. You let out a high whine as he sinks in, inch by inch. 

Your skin sears with flames of shame and scintillation. He fills you up so much it hurts. It’s a pain that makes you squirm, a pain that feels like heaven. You arch your back and press your hand to his chest. He growls as he buries himself to his limit. 

“I see it, I feel it,” he caresses your face as he begins to rock, “you’ve never had a man like me. Never a king,” he snarls and turns his head to look at Travis, thrusting as deep as he can, “he could never fuck you like this.” He rears back and glides in again. “And he will never touch you again.” 

[beccarooni]

(hey so this isn't a proper fic its just kind of stream of consciousness writing, but basic premise is an imaginary what if episode about thor getting cast out to the same place as Hela in thor 1 instead of earth.)

What if...Thor was never sent to earth?

Thor, the God of Thunder, was banished from the golden seat of Asgard. And his trusted weapon, the mighty mjolnir, was taken - cast far away, to find someone worthy of it's power.

I'm sure there's someone out there who views that possibility as a tragedy. As the loss of a gift, the loss of a limb - a hero separated from his trusty weapon. A knight from his sword. A soldier from his gun. A king from his crown.

A god from his hammer.

A beast from it's cage.

Mjolnir did grace my fingers, a long time ago. So long I can barely remember the feel of it in my hand, or the way it looked, or the words it bore. But I remember the feeling it gave me. The pressure of it's weight - the distant pulling sensation of the lightning leaving my body, pulled into that small fractured piece of the dying star.

I mourned it's loss for some time. And what that loss meant.

It meant failure. It meant Odin casting me to a land of darkness, all because my ambitions grew too wild for him to control. My temper was too short, my actions too callous and bloodthirsty to be becoming of a King of Asgard. I had made a mistake, and my punishment was to lose all I had taken for granted. My home, my friends. My power.

That was the way of it, for the first few days of my exile. The land the Bifrost had sent me to was barren and dark, with shadows clinging to every surface. Littered with the bones of fallen warriors - bloodstained valkyrie blades and the rotted wings of pegasi painted a morbid picture of what this place represented.

It wasn't a prison - designed to punish, a place to look at the prisoner and enact your justice. It was a graveyard. A place to lock something away, and to allow time to bury its memory.

Helheim.

Mourning your own death is a peculiar sensation. Lamenting the loss of yourself, and knowing that everything about your position here was all your own stupid fault. You became too greedy. You became too reckless. You had changed.

But then, a voice from the shadows. Silken and low, belonging to someone who bore a crown of spikes - the shadows obeyed her every move, following her this way and that. And her eyes, they were the same as mine.

She told me that it was not me who had changed.

I was the son Odin had raised, only he had changed his mind. I had followed his direction - I had courted death, I knew war as intimately as any friend. I had wielded my weapon for the good of the throne, for the power of Asgard, as my forefathers had. I was the son Odin had raised.

But Odin had changed his mind.

And she knew this, because this story did not only belong to me. It was an old tale, shared by another forgotten relic. Another child of Asgard, who had become just a little too powerful. Who had become a threat.

War had been my teacher, once. But now, it was Death who instructed me. Who taught me to cast out all feelings of loneliness and guilt, and instead sharpen them into blades of anger. To see my losses, as great as they were, as a gift.

Losing mjolnir felt as though my arm had been cleaved from my shoulder. But, in time, I learned that it's weight in my hand was not an anchor - tethering me to the storm, keeping me safe. It was a chain. Dragging me down, keeping me weak, keeping me powerless.

The storm burned from my veins, and this land of darkness became scored with my light. The sky was shared between us - forks of lightning silhouetted against the dark clouds, the shadows on the ground made that much darker by the flashes of thunder overhead.

I didn't feel alone anymore. Cold and terrifying as she was, Death understood my rage. She was my sister in fury; and with our combined strength, we set our sights on something better.

We would not die here, alone and forgotten. Asgard would know our names again. Odin would see his children, those who's ambitions had outgrown his own, and he would regret the day he cast us aside.

The whole of Asgard would regret that day. And I would mourn no longer.

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

wallflower masterlist

Summary: Your mother meets a new man, but he doesn’t seem very interested in her. (Thor)

Status: Finished

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

Part 35

Part 36

Part 37

Part 38

Part 39

Part 40

Part 41

Part 42

Part 43

Part 44/Ending 1

Part 44/Ending 2

[thezombieprostitute]

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor "Take Shelter" IRL

"love is in the air" wrong! that's the buildup of static electricity before the discharge of lightning. you'll want to seek cover. quickly

[justjams2003]

Sweet Savagery -11

Paring: Dark!Thor Odinson x Slave!Reader

Summary: All your life, Thor's blue eyes have haunted you. You believed you outran him, but now all your hopes come tumbling down.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of Hel, Asgard, Valhalla, lightning strikes. Talk about slavery. Fire. Nakedness in front of a lot of people. Choking, yelling, chains, parental issues. Google Translate Norwegian. Scars. Body image issues. Talking about not eating. Dungeons. Thor straight up tries to kill you in this one...Tell me if I missed any.

Word count: 2,3k+, Unedited

1st Divider by: @firefly-graphics

2nd Divider by: @cafekitsune

Tag list: @torossosebs @steverogersistheguy @thehighladyofasgard @notyourtypicalrose @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet @lovelyselfshipper @groovy-lady @seishm @sincerely-silk

~Masterlist~

Part 10~Part 12 (Coming soon)

Three months and nothing to fill your ears but the constant down pour of rain. You feel like an empty husk of yourself. The healers they’d come inside, clean your wound, leave food and then leave. The scar left behind...it’s a reminder on your body of something so violent. You spent hours on end looking in the mirror, tracing the white-pink mark. You’d stretch your stomach, looking at the way it move with your skin. 

Then the tears would start again. Of course Thor hasn’t come to see you. Who would want you now? A slightly reminder of your disobedience, if only you stayed with him. You should have known he’d never want you to leave his side. You’d bite the inside of your cheeks until you could taste the metal dripping out your mouth. And then you’d check again. Red, blood red. Not even a speck of gold. 

An annoyed gasp escapes you, with what strength you have you’d hit the mirror. But, it doesn’t have much effect. It doesn’t fill the rage that has been swirling around inside you. You feel so stupid. You know he had to cut his trip short because of your insolence. And here you sit in your room, crying because you miss him. His warmth, his voice and those eyes. 

You hang over the balcony, you look down at the village. Very few people are outside, just those who really need to be. To keep their families alive, to hunt and to fish. But when they open their door the water comes pouring in. Flooding their homes. All because these three months it hasn’t once stopped raining. 

Some part of you feels guilty for it. You know you can't control the weather, but if you could it would be like this. It’s supposed to be warmer now. It’s still cold like it should be in the deep of the winter and the sun hasn’t shown once. It’s not Spring like it should be. And New Asgard is struggling for it. 

“I heard you aren’t eating.” The voice is rough and deep and one you recognise so easily. You scoff, but it hurts to do, your throat is raw from all the crying. “Like you care. You don’t want me anymore.” It’s almost as if a growl escapes him and then suddenly his large hand is on your neck, pulling you back to face him. 

His lip curls up in a disgusted snarl. “You look terrible.” Your eyes are quick to find his. You find comfort in that neon blue that you’ve never been able to escape. You taste salty tears, your nose feels stuffy. His thumb grazes your cheek, his growl softens. “A Queen is not allowed to cry. Have I not taught you this already?” 

“Not even in front of you?” You search for something, anything. But all you get back is anger and pain. He doesn’t like to see you cry, but in your mind he doesn’t like you being weak. Your eyes avoid his, your hands come up and wipe away the tears with the back of your hand. ”I’m sorry.” You quickly mumble. 

Thunder cracks through the sky, you jump slightly and then he has you in his arms. A firm grasp, like he’s protecting you from the whole world. Like he’s scared you’ll be gone any second now. Like he’s going to lose you again. Like something is after you and he needs to save you from it. “My little dove.” 

This makes you remember what you’ve been wanting to give him for so long now. “Thor...?” He’s so hesitant to let you from his grasp. Only when you raise your head and show him that you’re alright does he let you go. “I got you something.” His eyes watch you while you walk over to your side of the bed and pull that necklace you bought so so many months ago. 

You dangle the dove necklace in front of him but his expression turns sour. Another huge lightning bolt hits right outside. Right on the balcony. The fur carpet that Thor had instructed be laid out so that your feet do not get cold, gets hit with the lightning and fire ignites from it. Roaring flames spill from it and you jump with shock and fear. 

Yet Thor doesn’t move. Instead his jaw locks tight and he grabs the necklace from you so hard that the chain almost breaks. “Where did you get this?” His voice is rough and in that moment all you can see is that night where he showed up dripping in blood. The blood none of his and only of men he has killed. 

You only see the anger of a gruesome murder. “I-” The lightning hits just outside the balcony again, the tree hits on fire. You jump, the fear settles in your body as the curtains catch on fire. The fire is quickly spreading, but you cannot run. For Thor’s thick battle-hardened hands wrap around your neck. 

With a simple squeeze, that threatens to end your life, he repeats himself. “Where did you get this?” Your small hands claw as his and he lets go just enough for you to breathe again. “When you left the kingdom in my hands, I went to the market. A old woman there, she sold it to me.” Thor mumbles an array of curses under his breath. 

He still doesn’t seem too bothered by the raging fire creeping into your bedroom. All he does is groan and then quite suddenly he bends down, wrapping his arms around your knees and throws you over his shoulder. His large steps carry you out of the room. He shoots out a rough command for the guards to, “Handle it.” In return, once they see the fire, the begins scrambling like headless chickens. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, trying to see him but you’re only met with a head full of hair. “To do what I should’ve done the damn day I burned your fucking parents alive.” A gasp falls from your lips. He’s never addressed that day. The only sense of apology you’ve gotten from it is the guilt in his eyes when you bring it up. 

But this is brutal. This cuts deep like a knife and twists and you can feel your heart beat in your ears as the fear rattles your body. No longer are you comforted by his presence. Instead, only terrified. Like a mouse being hunted, your breathing is quick and shallow. You begin hitting him, screaming, fighting for any sort of escape. 

“I should have fucking known!” He yells when he stomps down the steps of the dungeon. You’re reminded of the stink of blood that this place oozes. “I should have known not to trust a snake bitch like you.” He snaps, dropping you down onto the floor of one of the prisons. 

He grabs a neck collar and chain. The metal is heavy, and you stagger with the extra weight. He grabs you by the hair on your scalp. He pulls you up. Forced to meet those electric blue eyes. Outside, the storm is raging. Swirling with thunder and lightning. Each strike hits the floor outside the castle. 

Fire surrounds the castle and the knights are struggling to keep the flames at bay. Should he not be doing something about this? Rather, he’s down here with you. “Was this your plan all along?” He grunts when the only reply you give is tears of fear. “Colluding with the gods?” He snaps again. 

When you again only reply with whimpers he bellows out. “I trusted you!” You try to scramble away, the sharp sting of his hand gripping your hair shoots pain through your body. “Thor- please- I don’t understand-” You try to beg but it only back fires. He drops you down onto the wet floor of the dungeon. 

“Don’t give me that! You planned with the gods. They sent you down here, you wormed your way into my heart. Made me utter the words of submission! For what? A chance to sit at the God’s table?” He yells out, pacing up and down the dungeon each of his steps causing a wet plop sound. 

“Did they promise you eternal life? Powers of a God?” He scoffs, blue lightning jumps all over his body and it only confuses you more as to what is really happening. “Did I not teach you to trust only me? Obey only me?” He snaps, cursing again.  

Thor pinches the bridge of his noise “I should just fucking kill you, for your betrayal.” He lifts his head, turning back over to you. Like he’s been struck with an idea. He has this sort of crazed look in his eyes. And...a smile. When have you ever seen him smile? 

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”  Thor laughs, his shoulders shaking. “That’ll really show them.”

The cold settles in your bones. You can barely see the crowd watching you through the thick cloud of rain hanging over the coliseum. You try your best to cover up your naked body with your hands, but that still leaves you shivering. Your body is ice cold from adrenaline. This is where that knight got killed and you can only assume it’s going to be the same for you. 

The crowd cheers when you hear the gate open. You can’t see what it is, but can only assume it to be somebody’s worst nightmare. Something comparable with hell itself. Something that most certainly spells out your death. 

Footsteps echo and the mist clears in front of you. True it is, the one thing you fear, now, over monsters and the sky falling. Thor himself. He is dressed the same as you. Except he looks...Godly. Where before you were certain he was a Titan sent to overcome the gods. Now, you see he is one of them. 

The rain doesn’t touch him. It’s as scared as you are of his wrath. Blue lightning jumps across his body. His beauty is glaring. His skin looks to be glowing, his eyes bluer than ever before. His hair shining like gold. His body looks to exist entirely out of muscle, pure power oozes from him. 

He’s got this smirk on his face, he’s smiled more when he thought of killing than he ever did while fucking you. When he touches your cheek, he’s entirely warm. As if the cold cannot even reach him, his skin entirely impenetrable. His voice is husky and like silk when he bends down and whispers in your ear. 

“Today, you will meet the gods. And they will curse you down to forever wander the coldest pit of Hel.” 

Your knees give in. And as if something over comes you in that moment, you repeat the words he had that night. The world shifts and turns into one of glittering gold. Grass the colour of sunlight under your knees and you gasp, seeing Thor in all his glory. Red fur sits on his shoulders, his armour is a metal you’ve never seen before. On top his head sits a crown made from stone that reflect the golden light all around. 

But what’s even more shocking is that you two are not alone. Not the bystanders, no. Gods. Odin himself, who else would lack an eye? Frigga herself, who else would exude such love? Heimdall, Balder, Ty, all 11 Gods. And Thor makes 12. 

Thor scoffs, “You’ve brought me in front of them? Good, let them see my power and resistance.” He speaks in a language you suddenly understand. “This will not end well and you know it.” Frigga speaks in that very same tongue. 

Your body acts before you can, reaching out to grab Thor’s pantleg. “Is this real?” He scoffs, “Do not act as if you’ve never seen them or Asgard before.” He turns back to argue with his mother, but she shakes her head no. Then his head snaps back down to you. His eyes wide as a realisation settles on him. 

“You have not seen them...?” You gulp and shake your head no. He blinks, looking back up at his Godly parents. 

“You submitted Thor. We returned your power back to you. You must return to the pantheon. Take your rightful seat as heir. With your soulmate by your side.” Thor staggers back, he sees his thousand years on earth flash before him. How hard he worked to overthrow the man who’s crown is heavier than his own. Only to submit in the scramble of trying to save the life of a girl. 

Thor looks down at you. Dressed in the finest Asgardian dress. Hair braided the right way for a future queen. A crown sits atop your head that you had yet to notice. You’re too busy gawking around at the sights that no other mortal has or ever will see again. This is no simple girl. It’s his soulmate. 

His voice shakes, how has his thousand years of planning all been brought down by the single sight of eyes that glow like his own? “Or you can kill her and die along with her. Letting the world fall off balance and let Loki take your place.” That can’t happen, all the realms would fall into chaos. 

“Or you can join her back on Midgard. You can continue to try and raise an army that will never be strong enough to face even one of the Gods. And slowly watch her wither away and die as a mortal. Since you seem so keen on denying her rightful seat on the pantheon with your selfish desires.” 

“I will not let her become a slave to any God.” Thor interrupts. Shouting at his parents, pointing to the girl clinging to him. “Look at her, son.” Frigga sits more upright. He looks down, this time seeing the weak, naked girl with the chain around her neck, crying and begging for her life to be saved by Thor.  

“She already is one.” They’re toying with his mind again. 

(This is the second last part if you do want to be added to the taglist)

[wolfythewitch]

Started malevolent, on episode 2

- we started not with a bang but with a whimper

- Arthur does not sound like a word anymore

- that demon in his brain needs to take a chill pill

- I need him tranquilized his shouting is scaring ME