#thor x y/n

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Birthday Blues (Thor)

Summary: you're feeling crappy and alone on your birthday.

Warnings: just a sad reader,but fluff otherwise, i think?

WC: 570ish

A/N: today is my birthday (I turned 31!) But i've just been feeling so miserable and lonely and sick all day so i wrote this instead of wallowing in self pity.

Read on Ao3!

--

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the city, but the light felt distant to you. Today was your birthday, a day that once brought you joy, but now it felt like a weight pressing down on your heart. You sat on your bed, surrounded by half-wrapped gifts and colorful decorations that seemed to mock your mood.

You stared at your phone, watching as friends sent their cheerful messages, but the words felt hollow. It was hard to celebrate when you felt so empty inside. You missed the laughter, the excitement, the feeling of being cherished. Instead, you found yourself wrapped in a heavy blanket of melancholy.

Just then, a soft knock echoed through your apartment. You didn’t move at first, unsure if you wanted company. But the door creaked open, and in walked Thor, his presence filling the room with warmth and light.

“Greetings, my friend!” he boomed, his bright smile instantly brightening the atmosphere. “I have come to celebrate with you on this most special day!”

You managed a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Thor. But I’m not really in the mood for a celebration.”

He frowned slightly, his brow furrowing with concern. “Nonsense! Every birthday deserves a celebration, even if it is just with one friend.” He stepped closer, his large frame towering over you as he knelt down to your level. “What troubles you?”

You sighed, looking away. “It’s just… I thought I’d feel different today. I thought I’d be happy, but I just feel… sad. Like I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

Thor’s expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “It is understandable to feel this way. Birthdays can be bittersweet reminders of time passing and changes in our lives.” He paused, searching for the right words. “But know this: you are not alone. You have friends who care for you deeply.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you shook your head. “I know, but it feels like everyone is moving on with their lives, and I’m just… stuck.”

Thor’s eyes sparkled with compassion. “Sometimes, we all feel lost, even among friends. But remember, it is okay to feel this way. It does not define who you are or diminish your worth. You are strong, and your journey is unique to you.”

You met his gaze, feeling the warmth of his reassurance wrap around you like a comforting blanket. “I just wanted today to be special.”

He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Then let us make it special together! We shall feast, and I will share tales of my adventures. We can laugh, and I shall remind you of the beauty in the world.”

A genuine smile began to break through your sadness. “You really think we can turn this around?”

“Absolutely!” He stood, extending a hand to you. “Come! We shall summon a feast worthy of the gods!”

You took his hand, feeling the strength of his spirit seep into you. As you stood up, the weight on your heart began to lift, and you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe today could be different after all.

As you walked out of your room, Thor led the way, his laughter echoing through the halls. In that moment, you realized that even on your saddest days, friendship could shine a light, reminding you that you were never truly alone

[lavylu]

a thor ideal request where thor loves his midguardian gf, reader's big breast and has kink of fucking his cock between those juicy tits and squirt over them

I like em big, I like em juicy

Okay first of all I love this idea so much. And on a side note as soon as I read it the moto moto sound started playing in my head, so disregard the title

Thor loved you more than anything in the world. He loved the sparkle in your eyes and the warmth of your smile. He loved how you always smelled of vanilla and honey. He loved how you loved him. But most of all he loved your breasts.

He loved their sheer size. The way that they filled his hands and seemed to overflow. They were gigantic and Thor loved staring at them.

In his mind they were perfect, so big and soft. So warm and inviting, begging for him to show them love.

You woke to find yourself alone in bed, Thor’s side empty and cold. You pouted as you felt the sheets. Sometimes he would do this and disappear early in the morning, usually when he was up to something.

As if on cue, the smell of breakfast began to drift up to your room. He always did this, buttering you up before asking for something.

You yawned once before getting out of bed. You put on a pair of slippers and tugged down thors shirt that you had slept in. It hung loosely around your frame.

You sleepily made your way downstairs but you perked up when you smelled bacon. Thor began to hum to himself.

You quietly entered the kitchen, although Thor spotted you. He smiled widely.

“My dear! Come. Eat!”

He gestured to the table where a plate for you was already prepared. You shook your head playfully but took a seat and began to lightly nibble on a piece of bacon.

Thor quickly sat next to you. A smile on his face.

“What do you want? You seem up to something.”

Thor only shrugged his shoulders at your remarks. “Nothing major, there’s just something that I want to try.”

“And what would that be weather boy?”

Thor’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I was thinking that when we made love, I could fuck these pretty tits if yours”

Thor reached a hand up and gently grazed your chest. He gave a cheeky squeeze before going back to eating. He looked up at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

You raised an eyebrow in thought. “You know what, I’m done”

Thors face broke out into a huge grin as you push your breakfast away.He stood up and completely disregarded the table as he pulled you towards him.

His large hands circled your waist as he began to kiss your neck. He began to lay you down on the table, pushing bowls away.

A few clattered to the floor but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead he was too focused on getting you out of your (his) shirt.

He pulled it off quickly causing you to giggle. “Someone’s eager”

Thor just chuckled at your teasing. Your giggles stopped though as soon as he stroked your nipples. Each one hardening under his fingertips.

He pinched them softly, rolling them in his fingers. He bent over and began to kiss your sternum while making sensual eye contact.

He pulled away. “You’re so beautiful baby. Now can you do something for me?”

As he asked this he began to pull down his pants.

You nodded your head. Thor just smiled

“I need you to hold your tits together. Can you do that for me?”

When you squeezed your boobs together Thor just smiled. He gently ran his hand down your jaw, “good girl”

While you were looking at him you didn’t notice him freeing his cock. Suddenly it was just against his stomach.

Thor began to stroke himself making him harder and harder. Once he was as fully hard he walked around the table so his cock was by your head.

He shoved his cock at you causing it to land on your face. You gasped and tried to give it a kiss but he tsked “oh no baby, I’m fucking your titties”

He slowly teased his cock at your cleavage. Slowly he began to thrust in, each thrust causing his balls to drag on your face.

Thor smirked as he heard you gasp. “That’s a good girl”

His thrust began to quicken, each one getting more powerful than the last. Soon he was jack hammering into your cleavage, dragging his balls across your face.

He forced your head back giving himself more access. Soon he was fucking you as full speed. Each thrust bringing him closer to the edge.

You heard him moan out as his climax came. Warm cum squirted on your chest. His wet sticky substance coating your warm skin.

Thor stepped back after a moment and admired his work. Your boobs looked even better than before, all nice and round and covered in his semen

[fizziedoodle]

dating thor pt.2

[boop-le-snoot]

kinktober #5

Brown Sugar

kinktober day five | exhibitionism | 18+, Thor is showing off his midgardian girlfriend at a ritualistic orgy. asgard, amirite? | word count 2.5k | click here for more kinktober |

“We must?” You gave your boyfriend a cheeky grin.

“Mhm,” he nodded decisively, although his stormy blue eyes were sparkling with mischief. “'tis would be a good omen.”

“God of Fertility and all that?” You snorted, bringing up one of Thor's lesser known titles.

Well, lesser known on your home planet of Midgard. Here in Asgard, everybody was well-acquainted with the numerous titles and duties appointed to their crown prince. And while the ruling had effectively been transferred to Brunhilde, the House of Odin was still very active in the life and courts of the realm.

Which you had to partake in, as well, being Thor's long-term girlfriend. Some customs were pretty normal (smile and wave, smile and wave...), some a little strange and some had you completely understand why Jane, Thor's ex-girlfriend, had ultimately decided to balk on him. Asgard certainly wasn't for the shy and self-conscious.

For you, that ship had sailed and sunk a long time ago. How could you be anything else than smug with a God hanging off your arm? Passing on an opportunity to show him off was like a dog turning down a bone. And - you bit into a delectable fruit with a name you could not even hope to pronounce correctly - what kind of person would you be if you deprived Asgard of the blessings Thor was obliged to bestow upon his realm?

They way you saw it, it was a win/win scenario for everybody. As you submerged yourself in a hot bath swirling with aromatic oils, your heart raced with excitement and trepidation. Deep in the pit of your belly, a coil was beginning to tighten, further filling your limbs with a pleasant, weightless sensation. Floating in the spacious pool, your eyes traced the hard lines of your boyfriend's body with lazy interest.

Pre-gaming an orgy with your godly boyfriend had been the right choice.

Droplets of clear water ran down Thor's pronounced pectorals to soundlessly drip into the pool. You followed each one where it sent ripples across the shimmering surface of water, distorting the generous vision of his twitching heavy cock. He shrugged moisture off his blonde hair. You smirked.

“I fear we may not make it if you continue looking at me like that.” He rumbled, coyly watching your reaction through wet eyelashes.

“I am getting in the mood!” Objected you, but nonetheless ceased your staring to take care of yourself. You fully intended to leave a lasting impression on the people of Asgard and looking fresh and smelling nice was just the first step. Even if Thor's continued, very naked presence proved to be very distracting...

No less distracting was the cacophony of pleasure and bliss that reached your ears as soon as you entered the designated area for the ceremony. Clad in the finest silks and gemstones Thor had gifted you for the occasion, you held your chin up high even as your eyes lingered on couples, throuples and moresomes scattered across a multitude of surfaces.

Warriors and nobles, gods and regular folk, all lost in the haze. White-clad women danced with flowers in their hair, chanting something sweet and melodic in tongues All-Speak could not translate. The same fragrant blossoms hung in long, colourful garlands from the ceiling as fading sunlight reflected a fine golden dust that saturated the air in the room.

You passed Fandral surrounded by no less than five men and women. Thor had snorted and you responded with a smirk, knowing well of his friend's penchant for amorous conquests. Volstagg was here with his wife and he looked to be having a great time observing a slender Valkyrie busy herself with his wife's bosom as he snacked on some berries and nuts.

Posted at Thor's arm, the other attendees limited themselves to quick, respectful once-overs when it came to you. A human, an exotic curiosity for many, but strictly off-limits. You were more than content to be just Thor's.

The God led you to an elevated platform on which lay a bed of the fragrant blossoms; sitting down gently at the edge, you could not resist touching the soft, shimmering petals. They were surprisingly warm and springy, returning quickly to their undisturbed state as your hand came back tinted with gold. The petals seemed welcoming, somehow, and as Thor rumbled something low and quick into the open room, you fell back easily onto the flowerbed, marveling at the sensation.

Better than anything you'd ever laid on, even Stark's multiple-thousand-dollar memory foam mattress.

The sound of Thor's outer robes falling to the floor attracted your attention. You lifted your eyes and focused on his bare chest: the god looked down on you with mischievous fondness, studying your face for any sign of discomfort. There was none to have. All of the people and their couplings fell into the background as you beheld him, beginning to scent a subtle change in the air.

A distant storm. Bittersweet smell of ozone and fresh rainfall. Crackling of electricity somewhere nearby, the kind that raised the fine hair on your arms and sent a pleasant tingle all over your scalp. Thor's thick thumb traced the bottom of your mouth, spreading the sensation over your lips.

He sat down at your side, taking the time to simply study the lines of your face: the curve of your Cupid's bow, the arch of your nose and warm apples of your cheeks. Every inch of skin sparkled alight under his touch. Parting your lips, you breathed wetly over his fingers, taking his godly nature wholly into yourself.

Holding the side of your face in his large palm, Thor pulled you upwards, easily dragging you to sit over his lap. His blue eyes stormy, a spark of electricity shot out when your mouths connected, adding sensation to the softness of your lips and the scratch of his beard. Your tongues mingled, familiarity and sweet spit pouring molten desire into your bloodstream.

For a while, you two got lost in the sensual dance of your tongues. Background noise tuned out, you felt and had Thor. His large palms stroked your bare back and legs, toed the lines of your revealing tunic without quite breaching them. Unconsciously, you had began to inch closer and closer to the growing bulge beneath his loincloth, your budding arousal just shy of exactly where you wanted it.

Thor pulled you in. Dipping under the waistband of tour garment, he thumbed the skin there, and finding no more barriers, firmly kneaded the plump cheeks of your ass. Each movement rubbed deliciously between your legs, the touch of soft silk causing more and more moisture to flood your cunt.

“Mmm, Thor,” you moaned, having had totally lost yourself in the moment and forgotten the large audience gathered below your designated space. Not that they cared, if judging only from the noises: the air had gotten thick as Thor's arousal grew and it seemed to echo in other attendees.

A low growl left the god's mouth as his hands held onto you firmer, tighter. His bare chest glistened with the same golden dust and sparks of it settled deeply within his yawning pupils. The restraint he showed was truly incredible for that you knew that look: any other time your clothing had already been ripped off in tatters and your legs hung over his shoulders.

Thor became deliciously feral when properly riled up.

With great effort, he unwrapped himself from within your arms and turned you towards the room, settling your legs open over his spread knees, your back to his chest. Your head immediately fell back to rest against his shoulder: the world came in and out of focus as you fought with the fog that always came after Thor's stormy kisses. It was not meant to be: a wet gasp tore out of your lips as your eyes lidded from the possessive nature of his palm gathering and squeezing your breast.

Rolling your nipples between his fingers, Thor grinned into your hair as tiny sparks manifested on his fingertips and hardened the tender buds. You jerked.

He held on strong. “Easy.”

You felt the rumble of that deep voice within your guts and whined, discontent with the pace of your activities. He'd barely started and your cunt was already aching to be filled.

“We must do this properly,” he explained, breathing hot ozone into your ear. “Your body must be receptive to my offering.”

What was that, exactly? Neither of you were on board with having children, at least now. But it did not mean you couldn't practice... Petulant, you pushed your ass back towards his hips and were rewarded with a particularly well-aimed tweak. You squealed. Several attendees raised their heads from various body parts and places and gave appreciative smirks.

Fine, you decided. Two can play that game.

Reaching behind yourself, your back arched as you buried your hands into Thor's hair, pushing your breasts out in the process. The loose silk garment fell apart to the sides, baring your chest and breasts along with Thor's palms kneading the meat of them. The God gave an appreciative rumble at the sensation of his hair being pulled, bending over to mouth at the shell of your ear.

“I can smell you,” he faux-whispered. “Your cunt is dripping.”

No shit, you wanted to say, but all that came out of you was a moan as he released your breasts from his sweet, ardurous clutches and went for your inner thighs instead. Sparks danced all across your flesh, caressing the soft skin there and brining a strong scent of a budding storm into your coupling.

Candlelight flickered into life as twilight fell upon the room. Thick, dark clouds gathered above the palace and behind glass panes constituting most of the roof. Fat, clear raindrops began to tap against the glass. Rich smell of plants in bloom and alimentative petrichor seeped through the cracks in-between doorways and windowsills.

Arousal sat low and heavy in your belly, curling, coiling like a snake. Every spark borne on Thor's fingertips stoked the fire. Glowing embers blossomed into a roaring fire as your blood rushed into your ears. It was incredible your body had any to spare in the first place with how wet and swollen your sex felt.

Thor had come to a personal conclusion as his hands finally traversed a path towards the front clasp of your garment. It fell apart easily, silken curtains gliding over your sensitive skin. You shuddered, fine hairs rising. They were soothed by Thor's hands brushing over your nakedness, undoing the frontal sash.

Noise had picked back up. What started as clear rainfall and rolling thunder outside the walls turned into a damp, fragrant cacophony of sex. Through lidded eyes, you spied a throuple of lovers engaged in a passionate dance of bodies. There was no discerning where one began and other ended, but one blonde head took note of your attentions and winked at you brazenly, causing you to flush.

“'tis a blessed time indeed,” Thor's rumbling chuckle came from the crown of your head. “Tell me, beloved, how do you feel?”

Forming coherent thoughts was difficult. “Hmm,” you arched further into Thor's hands, “electric.”

Your godly boyfriend laughed as he parted your legs to rest over his wide thighs. His hand made a sizeable bump under the flimsy curtain of fabric that covered your arousal, the entirety of it covered by Thor in a posessive gesture. His middle finger slid over the seam of your lips, finding it wet and sticky. Thor rumbled in satisfaction as thunder roared outside, mirroring the god's satisfaction.

Periodic flashes of lightning added an ephemeral spotlight effect onto the inhabitants of the room. It seemed like everyone was watching you. Waiting, with their unhurried movements and lovemaking at a leisurely pace. You found it hard to focus on anything else besides the throbbing in your cunt.

“Almost ripe for the picking.” Thor stated with authority, an unusual grit to his voice. And he felt larger than ever behind you, hot and slick with budding sweat, cock swollen to a steely hardness under your ass. He flicked your clit with resolute precision, coaxing your cunt into dripping more of that sweet nectar.

In the slippery mess of it, you did not notice him switching his fingers out to nudge at your entrance, the side of his thumb taking their place to stroke at your clit. Three of his large fingers slid in with next to no resistance. Your back arched with a loud moan, reticence momentarily forgotten. The walls of your cunt spasmed, trying to suck him further in. To go places only his long, fat cock could reach.

Thor was stretching you with long, fluid strokes as your cunt wept approval, sash bluntly pushed to the side, all of you on full display. Your eyes had long stuck themselves shut for that the assault of sensation had become unbearable: contrary to normal way of your activities, Thor's actions only deepened the pit in your belly. You feared it would grow bottomless, forever unable to be sated by anything you've ever experienced before.

The stares or attendees only served to darken that pit, widen the jagged edges of it. As you held on to Thor's shoulders, your legs fell further and farther open with each stroke. What little clothing had remained on your body felt strangling, suffocating on your skin. You needed to be bare as you were born, placed before your god-partner for there was nothing else you wished but him to ravish you and everyone to bear witness.

“It is time!” Thor declared, voice booming. It carried through the room effortlessly, preceding a rapid change in atmosphere and frantic rustling of clothing as people shed everything save for their birthday suits.

The God unhanded your pliant body, briefly, to thunder something in Asgardian, and laid it plainly upon the marble altar. Sounds of seams ripping joined the roaring storm outside. Heat like molten iron spread through your limbs, and when you opened your eyes to see Thor sat on his haunches, your partner's eyes glowed a brilliant white. Sparks shot from his mane and fingertips.

His large cock, erect and proud, released a drop of clear fluid. Unconsciously licking your lips you watched it trickle down the shaft, along the prominent pulsing vein. Your cunt flexed, too, seemingly having attained a mind of it's own. Thor grinned. A smile that would have been unsettling in any other situation, for it was all shiny white teeth, sharp as a wolf's.

“...!” He spoke, again in Asgardian, and you shuddered at the resonant nature of his grovelly voice. All the others cheered, sound a cacophony of moans, yelps and shrill exclamations.

Whether it was the thunder outside or the ever-present storm within him, you did not know, but with a loud rumble, Thor threw himself atop you, slamming into your swollen, open cunt in one long, smooth stroke. Powerful muscles in his back rippled under your waiting palms. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as your body went limp.

This Thor did not hold back.

Vikings had ritualistic orgies, so why the hell not Asgard? I read this fic some four years ago that since had been deleted with a similar core idea and it has sort of cemented in my brain. Latest MCU has us thinking that Thor is just some guy with a hammer but I like fics that - not necessarily delve - but tie in his divine aspect. Like, he is a God even on his own planet. Additionally, I've always been dead set on Thor having a brown or a black S/O. Not sure why exactly... But this was written with black girls in mind. Especially the gold dust part. Have y'all seen how beautiful golden shimmer looks on dark skin? 🥹

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I'm just thinking of you and Thor from GoW spending time together. You make him feel seen as himself and not a weapon. He treats you as an equal even if he outmatches you as a warrior.

A/n: 👏👏

He doesn't feel like a burden when he is with you, a drunken mess. He actually feels loved by you and that's something that Thor would always be grateful for.

The god had thought he would be alone and miserable after he and his wife separated, that he and his daughter's relationship would always be strained until you stumbled into his life. You were soften spoken when he first met you. He did not think much of you, just some weakling that he didn't have to think twice off.

Until you slipped into the hall where he was drinking alone one night. You were kind, you didn't treat him less. Nor did you talk down on him like he was some drunken asshole. After that night you two started to see each other more and more. It amazed him by how well you two had gotten long, how much you two had in common.

You might have not been much of a warrior or fighter but you were kind, gentle. He was happy that you got along with his daughter so well, not to mention you and Sif.

Placing his hand on your head, you glanced up at him as you straightened your arms above your head biting back a yawn. "Ready for bed?"

Tipping his head to you, he let his hand caress your cheek as he nodded his head. "I am"

He was enough in your eyes and for that, he will forever be happy to have you in his life.

[married-to-google-translater]

🔥🔥THOR HEADCANONS WITH READER BEING AN INSANE CAT LADY🔥🔥 idk i have a lot of energy 2day :33

Thor

Thor and you really had a lot of time to get to know each other.

You were both gods and quite powerful ones at that.

This was why Thor was interested in you.

You started a relationship together and were happy.

Thor loved you very much.

However, he didn't quite understand your love for cats.

Of course cats would be cute… Thor might be a cold guy but he had a heart too.

However, how you could take care of seven cats would be amazing.

Thor would help you take care of the cats if necessary.

That would look really cute.

You must have had many pictures of Thor around cats.

Thor would be a cat magnet.

His calm personality would really draw cats close.

Otherwise, Thor wouldn't care so much.

Of course he would protect your cats from Loki.

Loki would really like to mess up with you and Thor.

[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.”  

[talesofadragon]

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

Synopsis: Centuries spent at the House of Odin have transformed the eclectic balls into familial gatherings and council meetings into morning tea rituals. The gilded walls of the castle have become home, and its royals, family. Yet, when your wisdom crosses paths with folly, affection is born unexpectedly, senselessly—a trait you’ve never been known to entertain, but one that Thor Odinson wears proudly.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Asgardian!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to sex. Jealousy. Unrequited Love. Love Triangles. LOKI. (we love him, though.)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort | Fluff | Mild Angst

Word Count: 6K (I have no regrets)

Based on this Request from my writing celebration.

All Masterlists | Sab's Wring Fest

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊 into the queen’s revered gardens, let alone assault her precious snowdrops. But rationale had long been buried deeper than Yggdrasil’s roots, allowing impulsivity to reign over you.

The white petals screeched from the force of your tug, a harsh touch you’d never known yourself capable of administering. But your assault proved relentless, flower after flower limply falling to your side. Ironically, their innocent petals congregated on the fabric of your dress, painting a tinge of beauty over your despondency.

Even in their misery, they refused to be anything but enduring. Pitiful.

“Oh, how delightfully entertaining will it be to gauge Mother’s love for you once she sees what calamity has befallen her garden by your hands.”

“Go away,” you commanded bitterly, back turned to the unwanted presence.

The god behind you neglected to comment on your tone. You heard him shuffle, his feet carefully avoiding stepping on another virtuous plant. He plopped down next to you, elegantly brushing his hands atop the neglected flower stems by your side, reviving them.

“It would be a shame to forgo free entertainment,” Loki smirked, twirling the rejuvenated snowdrop in his fingers.

You craned your head to the right, eyes burning with fire even his Jotun genes couldn’t withstand. “Pity, so many courtesans have slipped from your fingers you now have to settle for my misery for pleasure.”

Loki laughed, his shoulders shaking. His gaze retained his familiar mirth as he answered, “Would your misery be associated with a certain courtesan and an Asgardian prince... fonduing, perhaps?”

“Fonduing?” Your face twisted in disgust. “What in the Nine does that word mean?”

“I heard the spangled American Captain utter it once," Loki recalled. "It’s a euphemism for two people partaking in the biological act of reproduction.”

“What?” you scoffed in disbelief. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Loki’s wry smirk reappeared. “Mortals rarely do,” he confessed.

Your face fell at the reminder of the race you were persistently attempting to forget. Focused on your previous discourse, you had ignored the snowdrops delicately sitting in the palm of your hands. Without a second thought, you resumed your previous ministrations, gracelessly tearing apart petals from the stem.

“You do not happen, by any chance, to be superseding this flower for Thor’s meek mortal friend. Do you?” Loki asked.

“No,” you were quick to reply. “She may be as delicate as a flower, but she’s as beautiful as a Ratatoskr. What do brown eyes remind one of besides tree trunks and repugnant mud?”

“The warmth of an autumn day as the sun embraces the woodlands and shelters its inhabitants from the seasonal tumult to come,” Loki poetically recited, hands drawing figures in the air and a gleam of mischief glowing in his irises.

“Sounds tedious,” you lamented.

It earned you a scoff from Loki, though not for a lack of frivolity. “Midgardians possess this abhorrent concoction called coffee,” he informed, gaining your attention. “It’s a muddy brew that staggeringly increases one’s anxiety threshold.”

“Why would someone create such a senseless horror?”

“Perhaps to use it as a metaphor for a mortal’s brown eyes.”

You scrunched up your nose at the image of the mortal in question. “Fitting. She has such a petite stature. As feeble and brittle as her thirty-year lifespan.”

“I regret to inform you that mortals can live up to a century.”

“Irrelevant. That is still a trifle of our lifespan. And do not get me started on her vexatious disposition. Has this mortal woman been raised in a cave of trolls?”

“Well, this would certainly explain her infatuation with Thor.”

“You are not helping!”

You gathered what remained of the flowers, pelting Loki with the stem and petals. He didn’t deflect your assault, accepting your sour behavior. What you hadn’t accounted for was his retaliation. He pushed your shoulder, slightly rougher than usual, forcing you to land on a bed of flowers.

You groaned, feeling the flora entangling in your hair and their pollen dusting your dress. Loki’s dulcet amusement echoed above your head. A sharp gasp escaped him when you tugged at his emerald green robes and shoved him down. Hard.

“I did not inflict a grain of harm on you,” Loki groaned, swatting the fallen petals, which landed in his hair. “This hurts, Y/N.”

“Your pride or your head? The latter could benefit from some sense knocking into it,” you rebuked.

Loki gazed at you unimpressed. “Now is not an agreeable time to spread your wisdom, Little Goddess. You’ve clearly demonstrated your dwindling abilities when you groaned and moaned about the earthling.”

“I did no such thing! I, astutely might I add, pointed out her subpar qualities that do not mirror what Asgard is looking for in a queen—”

“Thor clearly disagrees.”

“Do not interrupt me, you venomous snake! Thor has always been a dunderhead, overthinking with his brawn and underthinking with his brains.”

“And yet, you were stupid enough to fall in love with him, Goddess of Wisdom.”

“Watch your mouth!” you spat, eyes roving the expanse of the garden to ensure no meddling ears were meandering around. “I care for your brother. But do not confuse care with admiration.”

“Devotion, Y/N. Has the human’s visit caused even your accrued lexicon to recede,” Loki taunted. Had it not been for your skirts in the way and your position on the ground, you would’ve kicked him so hard in certain nether regions that he would’ve sung to Valhalla.

“I stand by what I said.”

“Apologies, Little Goddess. Allow me, as the God of Lies, to refute your statement. Both metaphorically and in the literal sense.”

That filthy little python. You scoffed, perhaps a little more at yourself than him. He elicited the responses he desired, painting a mockery out of you and your feelings. You knew you couldn’t debate the matter with him more than you already had. As the God of Lies and your, unfortunately, best friend, he’d always have the upper hand in this matter.

So, you stood up and dusted your skirts. If you weren't winning, then participating in this debate was of no use. 

“Where are you going?” Loki inquired, an underlying tone of merriment hiding beneath his words.

Your eyes squinted, regarding him with indignation. “You have effectively sullied my mood even further. Your mother’s beautiful flowers do not deserve more ill will at my hands. Therefore, I’m taking my leave.”

If Loki had said anything after your response, your mind had elected to ignore it. Huffing aloud, you marched toward the castle, uncaring for the traces of mud and the wealth of fallen petals that trailed behind. On a regular day, you would’ve been more mindful, casting a simple cleaning spell to polish your appearance and ensure the poor attendants of the Odin Household would not have to partake in more work than necessary. But your anger and heartbreak had been immeasurable enough to deny you any act besides sulking over the mortal woman Thor had ignorantly brought along to Asgard.

The Norns, much like Loki, must’ve been taking pleasure in your predicament. You had rounded the corner, one gilded hallway separating you from the castle’s entrance, when the silhouette of the Crown Prince appeared. 

Unlike the ladies of the court, your admiration for Thor did not stem from his ethereal beauty. It bloomed like Freyja’s primroses, a sturdy seedling that, with time, opened its foliage to a world of wonder and ardor. He was a cosmic presence—a child of the sun, with light and fire dancing around his immaculate frame in wisps of enchantment, leaving every woman breathless. Including you.

“Lady Y/N!” Thor’s voice reverberated in the long hallway, laced with excitement. "I hadn't anticipated your presence today. No wonder the day exudes such radiance."

His comment made heat rise to your cheeks. It was almost as if he had shared his warmth with you, sending it trekking along his words to your heart. You smiled at him, demure and saccharine. But your lips downturned once another presence, one less noticeable or agreeable, appeared behind him.

You cleared your throat, attempting to restrain your unease as you greeted, “Thor, Mistress Foster.”

Norns burn you if you call her by the same title you bear. The earthling, as Loki so eloquently worded it, could not match you.

Without a greeting nor a poised lexicon, the Midgardian inquired, “Why are your clothes dirty?” 

Her question intrigued Thor enough for his eyes to rove your body. The warmth that had settled in your veins morphed into the embers of Helheim. You felt small and brittle under the scrutiny of his penetrating gaze.

“I beg your pardon?” you fired back promptly, indignation concealing the shame you felt at your soiled image.

Your words caused the mortal to pale, head swiveling to Thor’s side in anxiousness and trepidation. “I apologize, my lady,” she rectified her earlier statement. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Well, you certainly were, you internally chastised.

Thor took another look at your attire, meticulously examining the fabric. You endeavored to compose yourself, resisting the urge to shift your weight from one foot to another. His hand reached for your arm, his thumb sweeping across your elbow. “Are you well, Lady Y/N? You look… disheveled.”

You immediately retracted your arm, fearing his senses might pick up on your galloping heart. “I am quite alright. I was with Loki in the gardens,” you supplied.

“Loki?” The mortal regarded you with an air of cynicism. Your blood boiled at her brashness. “What were you and Loki doing in the gardens?”

“Have you no tact, you imprudent minger? Although your kind lacks sensibility and decorum, you ought to address those of elevated stature with respect while in their dominion! Neither Prince Loki nor I are your comrades to tolerate such crass mannerisms.”

“I’m… my sincerest apologies, I didn’t think—”

“Thinking is not as sparse on Asgard as it is on Earth. If you find yourself incapable of harnessing a modicum of wisdom when addressing me, then you are in the presence of the wrong Goddess.”

"Y/N," Thor interjected, his omission of your title not slipping past your notice. Nor did you miss the hand that reached out for the mortal girl.

His actions only served to fan the flames of your jealousy and hurt. Almost a millennium of knowing that male, and he had chosen a measly mortal's side over yours.

“Do not patronize me!” you ordered, jamming a finger in his broad, muscular chest. “I am not the right audience for your feigned, princely performance.”

Thor squeezed the mortal’s hand in reassurance, tugging her further to his side—as if to shield her from you. He craned his face lower to meet your gaze. Endearing as you'd always found it, it made you uneasy at this moment.

"You seem overly emotional today,” he inquired, voice low and delicate, juxtaposing his chosen words. “Has Loki said something to upset you?"

You cracked. How dare he?

“Loki may perhaps be the only male in all of Asgard who possesses an ounce of empathy and understanding when it comes to my feelings and disposition,” you snapped back, ignoring how your words seemed to slap Thor in the face. “He has been my best friend for close to a millennium and is one of the princes of this realm. So if I, as a lady of the court, find that your little mortal is besmirching his name, the least I could do is call her out on it!”

Your outburst held more weight than you had anticipated, managing to leave Thor speechless. He regarded you with an air of perplexion, his mouth open—seemingly unsure of what response was fair in this situation. 

You didn’t want to waste any further time in his or the mortal’s company. You grunted, walking away. The sound of your footfall ringing louder than deemed honorable for a lady.

“Y/N, wait!” Thor called out after you, his hand shooting up to grab your arm. Though he was massively built, with the strength and mass of Asgard lying on his shoulders, his shy grasp fluttered against your skin. Featherlike, it tickled your nerves, sending a chorus of tenderness through your pulse.

You turned around, a mask of stoicism hiding your feelings. “Yes?”

“I appreciate your inclination to defend my brother, but, I, and Jane, were merely concerned over your well-being—”

“Accusing Loki of maltreatment!” you reminded Thor, swiftly retracting your arm from his grasp.

He sighed, placing both hands on his hips. You loathed how small he made you feel before the mortal. “You are exaggerating.”

“And you are heedless! Whatever Loki and I were doing in the gardens is none of your or the mortal’s concern! What’s it to you both? Maybe we decided to fondue. We do not get in your business, so do not meddle in ours!”

No sooner had the words left your mouth than your legs commanded you to retreat to another room. You didn’t understand why you had said that. Your wisdom melted into a puddle whenever Thor and his little pet were involved. 

When had you become so insensitive?

Mistress Foster left. Her visit didn’t amass more than a fortnight's worth of frustrations before King Odin had deemed her visit long. If an immortal God such as Odin Allfather perceived these days as anything but transient, then Jane Foster was truly a nuisance in her own right. 

The knowledge of her absence, particularly on this day, overjoyed you. The Vernal Equinox served as a portent of hope for Asgard—embracing prominent figures from neighboring realms in celebration of Asgard’s princes and in anticipation of the future. 

In loose terms, it presented the Asgardian royalty with a wealth of eligible females to choose from as the next princess and queen of the realm. In broader terms, it was another opportunity to observe Loki and Thor merrily charm the ladies to appease Odin and Frigga—while satiating particular desires on the side.

You dismissed your ladies in waiting, taking a deep breath as you pulled open the door. Your feigned smile fell, and the familiar trepidation rose when you saw who stood by the door. 

“Fondue?” Loki snickered, mischief practically waltzing in his bejeweled eyes. “Darling Y/N, had I known you were inclined to roll in my sheets, I would’ve bedded you centuries sooner.”

You grabbed him by the fabric of his tailored robes, pulling him harshly toward your rooms. “I panicked!” you grumbled. It was barely heard over the deafening sound of his amusement. 

“Well, you certainly rectified your error by pulling me into your chambers.”

“Shut up!”

“Ah, my Little Goddess. How exquisitely appetizing do you look,” he joked, purposely raising his voice.

You jumped on him, a screech tearing through your vocal cords. Loki laughed louder, trying to grasp your hands as you assaulted him with your fists. You hadn’t expected him to bite your finger. 

“You bastard!” you seethed, cradling your hand. 

“What was that, Y/N? You want it faster?”

“Loki!!”

“Ah, tell me how good it feels,” he mused.

You were not impressed. “You are an idiot,” you retorted.

Your argument, if you could call it that, receded rather swiftly. You refused to look at Loki, rolling your eyes and settling them on your vanity. You weren’t frustrated, per se. Loki always had a knack for playing with your feelings like they were puppets on a string. Not in a malevolent way. The matter was, if your gaze caught him, you knew the little impish snake would expose the laughter he had succeeded in digging out of you.

Loki’s voice caught you before your thoughts meandered further. “You’re wearing the wrong colors.”

You looked down at yourself, your silver shoes peeking from the fabric of your long blue dress. It was light azure. Quaint and placid. An exterior representation of the feelings you were chasing. The fabric was tulle, whimsical and, airy like Spring’s birds merrily dancing across cloudless Asgardian sky. Its off-shoulder design, adorned with gleaming silver gems and bishop sleeves, accentuated your elegance and grace. A Goddess. A member of the House of Odin, even if you didn’t have a crown. 

“If you’re insinuating I ought to have worn your brother’s colors, then I regret to inform you, that you were mistaken.”

Loki shook his head as a mischievous shadow passed over his face. “You’d appear desperate. And you, Y/N, are anything but.”

“Then what colors were you referencing?” you asked, brows creasing in thought. “Surely not your own.”

“Mine, no. But the witless oaf doesn’t have to know that.”

You didn’t comprehend whatever it was he was insinuating. Wordlessly, Loki twirled his fingers, a thread of emerald green seidr tantalizing your sight. He flicked his wrist. The magical trail shot from his fingertips to your dress, deftly pirouetting along the light azure tulle. 

The colors changed from blue to green and silver to gold. The boldness of your outfit contrasted with the muted portrait you tried to paint earlier. You studied your dress, eyes roving the fabric before examining Loki’s attire. You almost scolded him for putting you in his colors when you did not intend for your farce to go further than it did. But then you noticed these colors, chosen by Loki, were darker than his. 

It was a subtle contrast, discerned when in closer proximity to the God of Mischief. The royal family could immediately catch the difference. The ladies, though, wouldn’t be able to. Neither would Thor.

“Is this a wise choice?” you asked, playing with the sleeves of your dress. 

Loki took your hand in his, kissing the back of it. “The answer lies with you, Little Goddess.”

Wise, maybe not. Fun? It certainly would be. You couldn’t remember the last time you went to these festivities without constantly having to clutch your heart at the thought of Thor.

“It’s a mutual agreement,” you answered diligently. “This keeps the ladies and Thor away.”

Loki tutted. “This keeps the witless oaf’s mind working. He has stashed his wits so far beneath the surface, the cobwebs have devoured them whole.”

“And you think this alliance between wisdom and mischief will decontaminate his head from thoughts of the impertinent mortal?”

“I believe my brother is a hopeless case. If it works, then by all means, enjoy the fruits of our labor. If it doesn’t, then enjoy the privilege of my company.”

“Your company?” you chortled, wrapping your arm around his elbow. “Lokes, I’ll be gracing you with mine.”

He mimicked your chortle, beginning to lead you out of the room. "I must admit, your presence has staggeringly illuminated my days in Asgard. Father is covertly hoping that I ask for your hand in marriage."

"And Frigga?" you asked, aware of Loki's deep affection for his mother and her opinion.

He covered your hand, which rested on his arm, with his free one, leaning closer to your ear. "She much prefers you with Thor." You blushed, a crimson hue spreading across your cheeks. Loki took delight in your sheepishness. "You could spare me the hassle of sifting through noble ladies by accepting a marriage proposal, Y/N. I immensely enjoy roleplay in the bedroom. And though I do not wish to lay eyes on certain biological regions of my brother, I can indulge you if that is what you fancy."

"I fancy your silence, you brute!" you chastised, stomping on his foot.

Loki barely flinched, but he placed some distance between you both. He opened the door, and before you could venture beyond your bedroom, he positioned himself in your line of sight. "You forgot something, darling." The nickname felt foreign, especially when unaccompanied by your first name. Before you could inquire about it, you felt a shimmer of magic raking through your hair.

"What did you do?"

Loki smiled fondly, passing his fingers through your loose hair. "Turned you from a goddess to a princess."

Your gaze locked with his as you lifted your fingers to your head. There was a weight there, not something unbearable but undeniably foreign. Your fingers traced the contours of what you assumed was a diadem.

"What was that for?"

Loki stepped closer to you, his taller frame engulfing yours, cocooning you with his body heat. His lips settled on your forehead, his fingers intertwining with yours. You blinked, mind racing to figure out the parameters of his new trick. “You’re precious, Y/N,” he confessed breathlessly, his voice almost vulnerable. “More valuable than the troves of Asgard and the magic of Yggdrasil. And by the Norns, whoever forsakes your treasured company deserves to be bereft of your radiance, ensnared by the unforgiving grasp of Helheim for their sacrilege, Little Queen.”

For the first time in your 800 years of life, you found yourself at a loss for words in response to Loki's. His words were carefully chosen, poignant, and endearing, befitting his poetic prowess. Yet, something about the declaration felt amiss; a subtle discordance that unsettled you. It was then, out of the corner of your eye, that you caught sight of Thor.

His cerulean eyes, usually bright with warmth, were now veiled in darkness, glinting with a silver sheen you had never seen before. Thor's demeanor betrayed a mix of emotions, his features clouded with anger and a hint of betrayal. Before you could utter a word, he turned and left, his bloody red ceremonial attire fading from view.

Loki's intentions became clearer then. He sought to deceive Thor. But why would such words incite his brother's ire? And why had Loki chosen to describe you as such?

This Vernal Equinox proved to be different. You couldn’t categorize it as either good or bad as you had yet to comprehend your perplexing emotions about the celebration. The familiar joviality and folly were missing given that Loki and Thor seemed to have reversed their roles. 

Content with you on his arm, Loki’s charade persisted well into the late hours of the evening. He kept you to his side, not that you minded, twirling, discoursing, and occasionally, joking about the whole ordeal. The nobles, courtiers, and ladies had all presumed you debuting, your green dress a declaration of your choice in contenders. If not for that, then the golden diadem on your head 

Frigga and Odin seemed to know better. The Allfather offered you and his youngest no more than a feeble smile, pleased to see you and Loki together, even though he knew this was all but a farce. The Allmother, while graceful as ever, did not attempt to mask her errant gaze, her bright eyes dimming as she looked at Thor. 

The older son, heir to the throne of Asgard, had forgone merriment in favor of appeasing the ladies. Given that Loki had monopolized your time, all of the wayward bachelorettes traveled toward Thor. No lady was cast aside, each receiving a handful of minutes with the prince. And though that should’ve hurt you, the ache in your heart could only be attributed to the misery Thor wore. 

You and Loki drifted toward Sif and the Warriors Three since Thor had abandoned his usual idle chatter and reckless drinking. Hours later, Fandral was on the verge of passing out, Hogun was inebriated yet still standing, while Volstagg recounted one of the ancient battles on Alfheim to Loki and Sif.

When it was an hour past midnight, you excused yourself from the festivities, claiming you were too tired to continue. 

In truth, sleep evaded you. Your mind inundated with thoughts. But you didn’t allow yourself to entertain one more question or idea, letting your feet guide you wherever they preferred. 

You reached one of the castle’s balconies, a small one on the right side of the ballroom. You could still hear the music from the festivities, although it was a gentle hum. Euphonious and dulcet, serving as the perfect ballad in the backdrop. The sky lit up, gleaming stars strewn across the darkness. You wondered if they were the Norns’ portents. If you could wish upon them and the world would hum in answer. 

The sound of retreating footsteps pulled your attention away from the sky. You knew that silhouette anywhere. 

“Thor?” the word tumbled from your lips before you could fully register what the night had brought. 

Thor’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t respond, almost as if contemplating whether to provide you with an answer or ignore your presence. He sighed, broad shoulders deflating, before he turned around. 

“I apologize, Lady Y/N. I was not aware the area was preoccupied.”

“You need not to apologize, Thor,” you stated, unsure where his usual boldness had gone. “The area is large enough to accommodate both of us.”

It almost looked as though Thor would decline your offer. His blue eyes wandered, from you to the horizon then back. He regarded you in an unfamiliar way, taking in your appearance. You didn’t want him to catch sight of your fluster, so you turned your back to him, getting lost in the sight of Asgard at night. 

When you thought Thor would leave, you heard him make his way to your side. 

“I wish to apologize to you, Y/N,” he whispered, uncertainly. Not because he did not mean it, no. You knew Thor well enough to tell when he was lying about something. Your friendship with Loki illuminating his brother’s traits further. Thor leaned on his side, the banister supporting his weight. His demeanor was brittle, a far cry from what you had known. Your breath was lost in your throat, unsure whether you should gasp or sob. A step forward and there would be no distance between the both of you. You never wanted to hug him more. “Had I known you and my brother were…” He paused, taking in a shaky breath. “...Courting. Had I known, neither I nor Jane would have adopted such an insensitive tone before.”

You shook your head, fingers tingling to reach out for him. “We’re…Loki and I we’re…” But you couldn’t complete your sentence. A part of you imploring to deny Thor’s claim. Another fearing Thor’s distance if you admitted the truth. 

“An odd combination,” Thor smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Mischief and Counsel. Wisdom and Lies.”

“They’re opposite sides of the same coin. Perhaps, that’s why they work better than expected,” you defended, unsure why. 

Thor nodded, the same meek smile unerased. He looked down at his feet, strands of his blond hair covering his face. It had grown taller from the last time he had cut it on Midgard. Now resting upon his shoulders. As if he needed more weight to bear. 

“I must admit that he might be the luckiest one between us both. And he does not even know it?”

Your hand shot up involuntarily, clutching at the golden jewels across the bodice of your dress. “How so?” you asked, your thumb circling the fabric in a futile attempt at soothing your heartache at Thor’s tone. 

One of Thor’s hands glided across the banister, landing where yours had laid. While his gaze held your face, your eyes couldn’t help but land on his larger hand. “Loki presumes I cannot tell his ire at the court ladies galivanting to my side. He has always been too forlorn to understand that numbers have mattered not to me.” His hand dared to reach for yours then, a featherlike caress that made your heart gallop faster than Sleipnir. “Those who choose me over Loki desire nothing more than the throne. I have nothing else to offer. No wit, no literary aptitude, or poetic charm. I am nothing but brutish and capricious. It takes a no great amount of ardor to love my brother. It takes a kingdom to love someone like me.”

You retracted your hand, the action so unexpected and harsh, Thor jumped back in surprise. He opened his mouth, perhaps to apologize, but he closed it when he saw the expression you wore. Silver misted your irises, decayed and morose, mirroring the disheartenment that haunted you. 

“How can you say that?” you questioned—shrieked, even. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, your hands clawing at your dress because of the pain you felt. “Who…who made you feel as such?”

“Y/N—”

“No, Thor! You cannot utter such insidious words in my presence! You are kind, tender, and caring. A summer’s breath, warm and ecstatic. In your fierceness, you wield passion, and in your tempest resides the strength to protect. You are worthy of many things, Thor Odinson. And love is atop that wealth. I would forgo the world’s realms and riches to bask in the light of your affection.”

The words that traversed the distance between were not measured nor were they second-guessed. You had not the time to question your affections, wondering if it was worth bringing them to light or not. But you needed Thor to understand that what he felt, the dejectedness and loneliness, were unwarranted. 

You need to touch him, embrace him—assure his heart that he was worthy, and if you couldn’t do it physically, then your words had to suffice. 

Thor stood there, his expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something akin to hope. He reached out tentatively, brushing away the tears from your cheek with his thumb. “Y/N…”

You allowed his thumb to trace the skin beneath your eyes before wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace, burying your face in his chest. Once, you thought to yourself. Even if this was a lie, I’ll gladly entertain it, just this once.

“Those ladies who crave your affections for the crown are not worthy of you. Even if you were the second son, even if the Norns had created you a mortal, you would still be worthy, Thor. You would still be loved.”

Thor’s hands traveled from your back. One moved up to cradle your head while the other rested on your lower back, cradling you closer to his chest. You could hear his heartbeats frantically drumming against his rib cage. Almost as if they were loud enough to create their own melody.  

You felt Thor plant a kiss atop of your head, close to where the diadem lay. He swayed with you in his arms, hold on you tightening and unwilling to let go. “You’re precious, Y/N,” he recited the words with complete reverence. Their familiarity registered, but you didn’t have time to question him before he continued, “More valuable than the troves of Asgard and the magic of Yggdrasil. And by the Norns, whoever forsakes your treasured company deserves to be bereft of your radiance, ensnared by the unforgiving grasp of Helheim for their sacrilege, Little Queen.”

A sharp gasp escaped your lips. “What did you just say?” you questioned, still nestled in his protective embrace.

“Loki did not compose this prose,” Thor confessed, his eyes dark with hesitation. “I wrote it. Two hundred years ago. For you.”

“What?” you breathed, the word splintering with emotion.

“I…I have always felt a connection to you. A sense of calm. Your wisdom and grace, but above all, your charm and wit captured my heart before I even knew it.”

“You never said anything,” you reminded, blinking harshly against the realization.

“How could I?” Thor’s thumb brushed the side of your mouth, drawing a choked whimper from you. “You are elegant while I am rough. A prince by title, but not by manner—”

“Do not belittle yourself in my presence.”

Thor chuckled softly, his gaze just as gentle.

“You are the Goddess of Wisdom, Little Queen.” That nickname—the Norns damn it—stirred emotions in you that you had never felt before. “What wisdom would there be in associating with the God of Thunder?”

“Is that why you distanced yourself?” The question was thick with unspoken feelings. “Is that why…why you chose Jane?” Over me. Your thought was left unspoken.

Thor’s expression darkened with remorse, his features shadowed by regret. “Have you never noticed the similarities between you two?”

“What similarities?”

“She is a smart woman. Accomplished, fastidious, attentive, and resilient despite her delicate appearance. Just as you are.”

“She is a mortal,” you countered. 

Thor nodded solemnly. “She cannot be made a queen. Not in the eyes of the Asgardians.”

“Then why—”

“It would be easier to gauge her choice.” Thor shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You realized too late that he was pulling away, keeping you at arm’s length. “As I said.” His gaze traveled the expanse of your body, regret permeating the air suddenly. “Those who choose me do it for Asgard’s throne. Those who choose my brother do it for love,” he reiterated, brokenly. He added in a more fractured tone, “You look stupendous in emerald green, my lady.”

“Viridian,” you corrected, evoking his bafflement. “It’s viridian green, a darker shade than emerald. Truthfully, I had opted for my own colors. But Loki approached my chambers before I could leave, and he all but decided to trick the court to his own advantage.”

“You’re not… you’re not courting Loki?”

You shook your head. “No. He and I have long been friends.”

“Friends,” Thor repeated, but there was a shift in the air when he said the word—as if Valhalla’s gates had opened and the angels descended to Asgard, humming their dulcet ballads.

“Tell me that’s not what we were,” you ventured, figuring that courage ought to accompany wisdom. “Tell me after all that was said and done that we weren’t just friends.”

You expected Thor to flounder, to grapple with an answer to your demand. “It wouldn’t make sense,” he attested. “It wouldn’t make sense if that were all we were, Little Queen.”

The angels of Valhalla must have roared, not sung, because as soon as Thor had breathed those words, tentative and full of fealty, his lips captured your own. You understood then, the complexity that arose from his role as God of Thunder. Your lips were in a fray, lapping at each other, wet and thunderous as you were conquered by his veneration. His large hands grabbed at your bottom, hoisting you up in the air. Your dress didn’t allow you the pleasure of wrapping your legs around his waist, but that didn’t stop you from clutching at his clothes, his hair, his soul.

Thor’s lips caressed your own. There was no set direction to their motion, almost as if he couldn’t decide whether to take it slow or devour you whole. The noises you made, the noises he made, small and mellow, reverberated in the empty space, adding to the symphony of your love and desire.

You didn’t want to pull away. Latching to the thunder and lightning invading your senses, getting lost in the storm.

A shiver ran down your entire body, accentuated by Thor’s teeth nipping at your lower lip. “Y/N,” he whispered breathlessly.

Your eyes opened, your image framed by his irises—protectively and vehemently.

He settled you on the ground, lips widening at your sight. “My colors suit you best.”

You didn’t understand what he had meant until you looked down. Your clothes had changed color. Again. The accent of your attire shifted to a bold red and silver.

“You best not attempt to produce an heir tonight, brother,” Loki sounded from behind Thor. He wore a smug smirk, leaning against one of the balcony pillars. Of course that bastard followed you. “Our chambers are nearby, and I do not need to hear my brother and best friend fondue.”

You blushed, cheeks turning crimson. Thor didn’t even spare Loki a glance, focusing his attention on you. “Little Queen, you look magnificent in my colors strewn across every inch of your body.”

And before you could help yourself, you boldly claimed, “I would look even more magnificent with your love marks strewn across every inch of my body.”

Thor’s eyes darkened, a primal yearning painting his irises with desire. He tugged at your hands then, pulling you to his chest. “Let me mark you with centuries worth of love, Little Queen. Allow me to show you what lesser beings cannot do.”

“Show me, my God.”

You drowned in his ardent storm, uncaring for the waves, noise, or the chaos. It was senseless. Everything you never were. Everything Thor was. Everything you, deep down, longed to feel with him.

Thank you @crazyunsexycool for this request! It was so fun to write for Thor, you can tell since this turned out to be 6K words🥹 I couldn't stop! Seriously, this might've been my favorite fic ever! Thank you for participating in my celebration. ♥️

I might extend my writing celebration if more requests come in. For all those interested, please feel free to follow the link!

I hope you like this one, witchlings. Okay, byeeee.

[hearts4court]

i want them to eiffel tower me.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Thunder shield, that’s it that’s the request. You can do it/ have it anyway you want haha 💗

.⋆｡Just A Warm-Up｡⋆.

Thundershield x plus size reader

Steve wants to play while Thor’s away and you’re just along for the ride

Warnings: this isn’t full on smut but it’s still smut, cockwarming, d/s dynamics, sub!reader, switch!steve (he’s also a bit of a brat), dom!thor, little degradation, implied m/m smut

WC: 889

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

When Steve raised a single dark blond eyebrow at you an hour ago, you knew that your simple afternoon of doing laundry and watching your favourite trashy reality show was going to be thrown out the window in favour of his devious idea.

“You know we’re gonna get in trouble right?” You had told him as his thick fingers pulled at the waistband of your sweatpants after he made himself comfortable on your couch.

He looked up at you with a smirk. “Not if you listen to what I tell you to do.”

So now here you were, on one of your boyfriends’ lap, trying as hard as you could to watch the documentary he had put on but with your mind already going fuzzy around the edges, it was incredibly hard. 

You shifted on his lap but suddenly, Steve’s large hands were on your hips, keeping you completely still. “I told you not to fidget.” He chastised you. A shameful heat crawled up your neck and you could only whine.

“Sorry Captain.” He smiled at you and granted a single kiss to your cheek.

“Good girl. Now, Thor should be home soon and I don’t think he would appreciate that we’re playing without him so stay still.” You nodded and forced your body to relax back into his strong chest, laying your head on his shoulder where the smell of his cologne was most prominent.

Steve readjusted the blanket that was draped over both your legs, pulling it up so it now lay across your waist, completely concealing your lower half. 

And right on time, the front door opened and a booming voice called out- “My loves! I have returned!”

Steve gave you another firm warning in the form of a pinch to your naked thigh before he called back. “We’re in the living room!” 

Thundering footsteps echoed through the house as Thor hurried to get to you. “You would not believe the day that I have had, first Loki tricked me… again! But do not fret, my wound shall heal soon- what are you doing?”

His massive body easily filled the doorframe, his blue eyes squinting at the pair of you. While you were scrambling to find some excuse as to why you were in this situation, Steve threw his arm over the back of the couch, a smirk still painted on his face. 

“We’re just having a cuddle and watching a movie, isn’t that right doll.” You nodded eagerly in response, letting out a sigh of relief as Thor’s eyes brightened once more, seemingly content with his answer.

“Well, then the Spider boy showed me this new trick he learned and I-“ But his words went in one ear and out the other as Steve readjusted below you, forcing his thick cock even deeper inside you and it took all of your willpower not to moan.

He hissed through his teeth as you clamped down on him. Your fingers curled into your palm in some desperate attempt to keep yourself from moving or moaning or even breathing wrong but evidently, it wasn’t enough.

Before you could stop it, a whine escaped your lips, immediately silencing your godly boyfriend and making the man beneath you inhale sharply. The game was up.

The blanket easily slid away from your laps, exposing exactly what was happening to your shared boyfriend. Your soft legs were spread apart by Steve’s thick thighs, keeping you open enough for his cock to be comfortably nestled in your dripping cunt to keep him warm. Already, his blue jeans were stained almost black from your wetness and a ring of creamy white gathered at the base of his cock.

Neither of you moved, the gravity of the situation now making itself apparent as Thor’s expression darkened and his own jeans grew considerably tighter as his cock came to life.

“I will give you both one chance to explain yourselves before I start to think of ways to punish you for playing without my permission.” Steve’s cock throbbed inside of you and you shot him a glare.

“Masochist.” You hissed under your breath but evidently, both men heard you.

Thor’s eyes locked onto you. “How about you start princess- tell me the truth.”

But before you could answer, Steve had decided that he wanted to play even more. “She’s just warming me up so that I could fuck you when you got home. I mean, that is what she’s here for.” You curled into yourself, not because you were hurt by what he said but because you knew what was coming next.

Moving too quick to comprehend, you were suddenly suspended in the air and then tucked into the chest of your god. And with barely any time to wince at the emptiness you now felt, Thor’s fly was open and his own cock prodded at your entrance. 

“Yes you did have a warm-up, but not for you.” You cried out as he sank you down onto him, easily taking him to the hilt even with his massive size considering how Steve had already stretched you enough to take him. “She’s going to get the fucking of a lifetime while you just watch. And then-“

Steve swallowed thickly, his hand now inching towards his own aching length. “Then, I’ll be warmed up enough to take you.” 

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[caplanbuckybarnes]

Sun Beneath (Thor)

Summary: you've been missing thor a lot lately

Warnings; fluff

WC: 750ish

Read on AO3!

--

The Avengers' compound was always a buzz of activity, but you preferred the quiet moments, those rare instances where the chaos of saving the world simmered down and you could simply breathe. Thor had been off-world for a while, handling some important Asgardian matters, and you hadn’t seen him in days.

You missed him more than you cared to admit. He had this energy, this presence that filled every room he entered. You’d found yourself looking forward to those moments where he would flash his disarming smile, the way his booming laughter would echo down the halls, or the soft way he’d sometimes look at you, like you were his anchor in a world of storms.

But today was quiet. Too quiet.

You wandered down the halls until you found yourself outside his room, the door ajar. Curiosity got the better of you, and before you realized it, you had stepped inside. His room smelled faintly of the forest after rain, a natural, calming scent that reminded you of him. His bed was large and inviting, adorned with furs and soft blankets—things that made him feel more at home away from Asgard.

Without really thinking, you made your way to his bed and sat down, running your hand over the furs. You closed your eyes for a moment, imagining what it would be like to have Thor back, to hear his voice and feel his presence again. The bed felt comforting, and before you knew it, you were sprawled out across it, your body sinking into its warmth.

You didn’t hear the door open.

“Do I wanna know what you’re doing on my bed?”

The deep, amused voice startled you, and your eyes flew open. Thor stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a smirk tugging at his lips. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his golden hair slightly tousled, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto you.

Your face flushed immediately, and you scrambled to sit up, looking for a good excuse. “I-I was just… checking… if it’s comfortable?”

Thor’s smirk widened into a full grin as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “Aye, it is rather comfortable, isn’t it?” He moved closer, his boots thudding softly against the floor. “Though, I wasn’t aware my bed was up for inspection.”

“I didn’t mean to—” you started, but the look in his eyes made your words falter. He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he was. The warmth radiating off him was magnetic, pulling you in even though you knew you should probably move away.

“I’m not angry, love,” Thor said softly, his voice dropping an octave as he gazed at you. “If anyone should be enjoying the comforts of my bed, it should be you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said “you,” as though the idea had been on his mind long before you’d wandered into his room. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch feather-light.

You tried to play it cool, but the intensity of his gaze was impossible to ignore. “Are you saying I have permission to sleep in your bed from now on?” you teased, trying to hide how flustered you were.

Thor’s smile softened, and he leaned in just a bit closer, his lips hovering near your ear. “Only if you promise to let me join you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the playful banter suddenly giving way to something much deeper. You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze, and the air between you seemed to hum with electricity.

“Well,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his, “I think I can agree to that.”

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, gentle at first, as though testing the waters. But when you kissed him back, it was as though a dam had broken, and all the longing you both had kept hidden spilled over. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand the thought of any distance between you.

The kiss was a storm—fierce, electrifying, and consuming. When you finally pulled away, breathless, you could see the hunger in his eyes.

“I missed you, Thor,” you admitted softly, your hand resting against his chest.

“And I, you,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. “I think I’ve missed you more than I ever realized.”

--

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[thewritersaddictions]

Day Thirteen: Thor Odison + Size Difference

You've always been just a little smaller then all of tour coworkers. Always smaller then all of the Avengers. Iron man having invited you to work alongside them as a sort of secartary, and helper.

You aren't sire how you become the apple of Thor's eye. Maybe it was the fact that you thought he was the most handsome man on the planet. Hell he wasn't even from this planet. Thor had taken a liking to you as well. Showing it in odds way. He wasn't the best at being a genetleman, and maybe that was due to his stature or his larger then life attitude.

Regardless of all of that. You still fell deeply for Thor. He didn't fall though. He gripped you tight, and took you for the ride of your life. "Fuckin' hell you're tiny." Thoses were his fidrt words to you when he saw you. You froze, and since then your height has been something you worry he doesn't like about you.

That all changed, when one night after the avengers put their bodies through a bad training session, and an almost worrisome call for them. Thor came looking for you. "Do you wish to see something beautiful?" He asked, not bothering to knock on your door. You looked down at your paper work then back him. "Sure." You said timidly. He grabbed your hand and nearly pulled you all the way towards his room.

"Where are we going Thor?" I asked, "I'm taking you to Asgard." You held onto Thor as he guided you through the gate. Asgard was beauitful. "Thor, this is… you lived here all your life?" You asked. You looked out of place to Thor even here, but he wanted what he wanted.

"Let's go Y/n. I want you to try some stuff here." Thor says grabbing your wrist. He drags you towards stairs. "Where are you taking me Thor?" You ask him yet again. "To try some of our beer." "Oh I do love beer." You mutter following close behind him. Your hand complety disappears in his large one. He's a manmath compared to you, and you're dying to crawl all over him.

It doens;t take long to get to the bar, beer are slammed infront of the both of you. "take a sip dear." Thor voice is thick, and deep. The first sip you don't feel anything. But the second you feel as you do when you've a few shots of vodka. "Thor, what is this stuff?" You ask him. "Only the best for my girl." He whispers. He chugs his beer, and then grabs yoour hand. Are you drunk? No, you're tispy. You're drunk on Thor touches, the way he grabs you like a rag doll.

For the thirs time you ask Thor "Where are we going?" "I'm taking you back to my room here, and fucking you after denying myself." Thors words go strat to your core. It doesn't take long, loud steps echo in the palace.

Thor's door is open, and the door shuts to the weight of your body. As Thor picks you up and slamms you into the door. Your feet don't reach the ground as he hold you up by pressing his body into yours. For the first time you can see his eyes. Blue, clear as the ocean. His lips smash into your. Hungry for something he's been denying hismelf. "Fuck you taste so sweet." He mutters as he pulsl away. You're drunk on him already. Your clothes are ripped off of your body literally. And thrown around the room. His lips are on your skin in seconds. And his cock sits hard agasint your inner thigh. Your whine, and wiggle to get some sort of release.

"Fuck! Please Thor, just put it in me already!" You beg him. "You're not ready for that.' He tires. "You put your cock in me right now or I sear to god Thor. I will walk out of here naked." You threaten him. He smirks at your words. "Don't say I didn't warn you." he as he don't gives you time to get used to his thickens or his girth. Your eyes brim with tears.

But you enjoy the pain as it melts to pleasure. "Fuck Thor, just move already." HE rolls his eyes, and thursts hard in and out of your wet pussy. "So demanding for a slut that can't even talk." He says as he fucks your hard not even lossing his breath over it.

Completed on: 07/04/23

Posted on: 10/13/23

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Marvel Master List // The Rich Master List // Kinktober '23

[fizziedoodle]

dating thor

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 22

Prompt: Stormy Night

Pairing: Thor x Reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, not beta read, kissing, confessions (sorta), holding hands, sharing drinks, slight angst

Summary: You show the God of thunder your favourite spot to watch the lightning

Word Count: 2k+ (2054)

A/N: I am a big lover of thunder and lightning, I find the stormy weather really relaxing 💜 This was originally meant to be short and sweet but whoops my hand slipped and now it's over 2k ... - Love, Grem x Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

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Raining cats and dogs was the understatement of the century. It was raining a whole zoo as far as you were concerned, and quite frankly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Wind bellowed and howled through the compound, battering against the windows. You could still see the faint outline of the trees whipping violently in the winds through the rain and darkness thanks to the occasional flash of lightning.

Tonight was perfect.

You were in your fluffiest, most cosy pyjamas, nursing a mug of cocoa and shuffling quietly through the compound, to your favourite spot. You knew everyone would be busy; Tony and Bruce in the labs, if Vision wasn't with them he'd be with Wanda and vice versa, Steve, Bucky, Sam and Nat would be training somewhere no doubt and Clint would have headed home to his family (or perhaps he was stuck in the vents again).

Peace and quiet, for one lovely evening.

"HELLO Y/N!" Thor bellowed excitedly, spotting you as he exited his room. The scream you let out was horror movie worthy and you thankfully didn't spill any cocoa. You couldn't tell if you were offended that FRIDAY or anyone else in the compound didn't hear the scream and come running to your aid.

"Hey Thor," You smile weakly at him, feeling embarrassed at both forgetting him and screaming with fear. Thor just continues to beam at you pleasantly. The God of Thunder was a dazzling ray of sunshine; who knew?

Thor eyes your mug of cocoa and your pyjamas. "Are you heading to bed Y/N? Apologies for frightening you."

You shuffle a little awkwardly. You don't want to lie to him but you don't want it to come off as strange. Thor just smiles down at you, his giant self keeping you in his shadow. Wasn't Loki supposed to be the giant?

"It's alright. And, um, no. Not exactly."

Thor raises an eyebrow at you curiously and your stomach flips. Heat builds in your cheeks and you look away bashfully. He was stupidly handsome, but then you supposed he was a god after all.

It takes you a moment to find your voice again when you realise Thor is waiting for you to continue.

"I'm going up to the roof." You say with a small shrug.

"In this weather?" He asks, as a gust of wind smacks a sheet of rain onto the windows. Thor looks back at you confused, looking at your pyjamas. "And dressed like that?"

You wiggle your feet in your comically fluffy slippers. You weren't exactly dressed for the weather, but your hiding place always kept you dry.

"I..." you begin and then shake your head. "It's hard to explain without the visuals. But I'll be fine. This is my favourite kind of weather."

Thor breaks into another smile and you find you're smiling back.

"Really?" He stands a little straighter, prouder, hands on his hips. "It's mine as well."

"You are the God of Thunder," You chuckle. "I don't know why that's such a surprise."

You regard him for a moment, weighing up your options. On the one hand, you can bid him good night and head to your hiding place alone. On the other, you could spend more time with Thor.

Yeah. Option two was better.

"Come with me," you say suddenly, jerking your head behind you. You move to walk in the direction of the stairwell.

"Are you sure?" Thor asks, taking two small steps and closing the distance between you. "I don't want to intrude."

Your heart melts at the gentle giant before you, further solidifying your decision to bring him with you.

"Very sure. It's just up past the stairs."

The stairwell was quiet, save for the rain. Saying that, they were always quiet. Why use stairs when you had elevators? Or powers? Or an iron suit that could fly?

They were still required for health and safety though.

You sipped at your cocoa, treading up the concrete stairs to the door that lead to the roof. Your legs burned with the excersise but Thor seemed nonplussed and thankfully didn't make much of a fuss of how easy it was for him.

The door rattled with the wind and you huffed as you pushed down on the handle, edging out into the wind. You struggled against the door, the wind pushing back fiercely. Thor's large palm appears next to your head and pushes the door gently, sending it flying open. Meanwhile you get a face full of rain.

"Sorry!" Thor gushes as he follows you through the door. You sprint through the rain across the roof top with Thor close behind, to small building on the other side. Your cocoa is significantly more watered down by the time you fling open the door, half dragging Thor inside.

With Thor in the small cabin-like building it seems more like a broom closest. There's a beaten down sofa with a musty blanket and a small unit with radios, a microwave, mugs, a kettle and a mini fridge hidden beneath it. You'd guess it was a little cubby hole that was meant for monitoring in case of the worst, but it seemed forgotten about. Anytime it rained or stormed and thundered or if you just needed a break away from people - this was your go-to place.

"You're not allowed to tell the others about this place," You tell Thor, setting your mug down to tousle some of the rain out of your hair. Your eyes flicker back to him and you see that he's studying the small space. "It'll be our secret. Want a drink?"

Thor smiles over to you at the notion of you both sharing a secret but he shakes his head at your offer. "No thanks, not right now." He pauses, looking at the ceiling with wonder as a particularly heavy sheet of rain pounds against the roof. The roof was metal but the cubby was made from concrete breezeblocks, so you were under no threat of being killed by lightning. But it was that metal roof that made rainfall sound like gunfire, echoing around the small room.

Thor's eyes close and he sighs, making you smile softly.

"Nice, right?" You say, taking a seat on the sofa, pressing yourself as far into the arm as you possibly can to give him space.

"It's relaxing," He says appreciatively, taking the other end of the sofa, carefully avoiding touching you. You don't speak for a few minutes, focusing solely on the sound of the rain and then...

A flash of light illuminates the room followed closely by the unmistakable roar of thunder. You smile in the direction of the small window and once there's silence again, you speak.

"I like being close to it like this," You murmur. Thor hums in agreement, although you don't notice that he's looking at you. "I've never felt more at peace when the weather is like this."

That earns you a deep chuckle, that sounds coincidentally similar to the thunder outside. "You're probably the only one who thinks that."

"Maybe." You shrug, giving him a grin from over your mug. "But I love it all the same."

Thor shifts a little in his seat, raking his hands through damp, golden locks. "I've had it all day from Stark." He confesses. "He thinks it's my fault we have this weather."

You raise an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly. It would make sense. Again, God of Thunder after all. "Is it?"

Thor looks sheepish. "Not on purpose."

You snort a laugh and another lightning flashes, closer this time, with another growl of thunder. You miss how Thor's cheeks turn pink in the white light from outside.

"Not on purpose?" You say excitedly. "Do you always control the weather like this?"

"No," He clears his throat. "Sometimes I just amplify it."

You nod sagely. "That's pretty cool. Well, thank you for amplifying this," You gesture to the window shaking in its pane. "This is the best storm I've had in a long time."

Lighting and thunder strike again and you shiver involuntarily.

"You know, I'm not counting the seconds between thunder, but the lighting seems to be getting awfully close." You shoot a look at Thor. "Do you think-"

Another flash and roar.

"Do you think we're in the eye of the storm?" You finish, silently hoping that that's what it was and that you didn't just bring an electrical conduit less than a foot away from you.

Thor nods but he's looking directly at you now, studying your face every time there's a flash of light. When you shiver again, he pulls the musty blanket from behind you both and tosses it over both of your legs. You mumble your thanks, watching the window to see if you can see the lightning strike. Another comfortable bout of silence falls between you and you sigh dreamily listening to the rain.

You don't move away when you feel Thor's fingers tentatively reach for yours, or when his hand rests on top of yours. Your heart does somersaults, though. The unspoken moment is far better this way. You turn your palm upwards, still watching the rain, and when Thor goes to move his hand away, you're already interlacing your fingers with his.

The lightning is brighter than it was before, the thunder is louder and the heat in your cheeks rises tenfold as you realise that the weather is reacting to how Thor is feeling. To test your theory, you squeeze his large hand in yours and, sure enough, thunder blares loudly with another lightning flash.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a smile as you look over at him. Thor has sunk into the pillows, hiding his beet red face with his free hand. You squeeze his hand again for funsies and he peeks out behind his hand with the most adorable puppy-dog eyes you had ever seen as lightning flashes.

"It's embarrassing," He flusters unprompted. "Do you know how often we would have thunderstorms when I was small?"

"I don't think you've ever been small," You tease and Thor gives you a shaky grin.

"Every time I cried or had a tantrum - thunder and lightning." He huffs, displeased. "Everyone hated it, apart from my Loki who found it hilarious."

You squeeze his hand again, no thunder this time, as Thor looks solemn; homesick.

Thor looks over to you again with a smile and you feel your heart melt and break all at once. No wonder he was always a little ray of sunshine; he was terrified of being hated for something he couldn't quite control.

"What's a little rain?" You shrug, offering a reassuring smile. You offer your luke-warm-but-really-almost-cold mug of cocoa to him and he takes a gracious sip before handing it back. You're both leaning a little closer now, hands still clasped together, watching each other.

"You're something else," He chuckles. "Another odd human. I see why you've stuck around."

"You have too," You point out, nudging him lightly. "You're just as odd as us, I'm afraid."

You brush a lock of stray hair glued to his face and tuck it behind his ear gently, your palm not quite leaving his cheek. His cheek is warm under your palm and you could have sworn you felt static. Your eyes meet and your heart skips - just as there's another flash of lightning. You smile. Thor smiles back sheepishly. Then you do something unexpected. You lean that little bit closer and nervously press your lips against his.

The sound that erupts from beyond the clouds is deafening. The light is blinding - so much so you're sure aliens have come to abduct you. Or well, maybe a god has.

Oh, and that was definitely static you were feeling. As you move back to take a breath you can feel your lips tingling with electricity, your whole body vibrating with a current and wattage you've never felt before. Thor looked like he was experiencing the same thing, just a lot more shocked (if you'll excuse the pun).

"Will that happen every time I kiss you?" You giggle, squeezing his rough hand again.

"I suppose we will just have to find out." Thor grinned, his heart skipping along to the beat of thunder outside.

[widowsofchaos]

𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬

summary: if Asgardian mead can transcend two super soldiers into three sheets in the wind, then is there Asgardian herb to send a smoker like you to Vallah? pairing: Thor x black!enhanced!reader (established/married relationship) ao3 warnings: herbal smoking, smut (porn with plot), and filthy use of astral projecting. a/n: Guardians of the Galaxy cameo, Rocket being a furry menace. New Asgard cameo. Valkyrie cameo. Just a self-indulgent piece on my love for Thor, and weed. For @canumoveurseatup-no​ cause we’re Thor and weed loving whores. This was finished way long ago, like way before MoM came out, so the writing style isn’t up to my liking. It was just a self-indulgent fix it, I guess.

“You’re really not going to share? Really?!”

Furry pointed ears flex agitatedly, tiny palms kneed into his eyes, claws dually scratching his furry face --- small paws stomp on the floor akin to a toddler, grieving as if the world is against him; on all floors as he bounces on the flooring, hunching over as he snarls in withdrawing agitation --- all for galactic weed.

A click of the tongue, “Look at him --- I told you it’s good.” Krog laughs as he packs handfuls of herb in the plastic bag, as the snarling scavenger twirls around his ankles. The rock-being stood frozen, in amusement to watch the tiny animal have a withdrawal, standing next to him is his Asgardian liege.

In his palm, marveling at the Asgardian herb that was glowing with golden streaks within the stems, luckily seeds were saved before the disaster of Asgard; now nurtured, and gardened in Norwegian soil.

“I am Groot.” The teenaged tree-being grunts, with his arms crossed against his chest. “He is a jerk!” Rocket shouts, his claws scratching the wooding; a high-pitched yelp emits from the unhinged raccoon.

“Oh hush --- you know he’s going to pack us some.” A green palm grabs Rocket by the vest, as he flails, his furry tail twirling; small teeth gnawing the air at the mere act of being man-handled.

A sweet low giggle, “You know he’s just teasing.” Gamora nestled Rocket between herself and Peter on the couch; Peter too engrossed in the newest gorey Mortal Kombat video game with Drax to even jab a joke or two.

Rocket nearly wails, head thrashing against the cushioning of the couch, “I need some now!” Never one to lose his composure, always snarky with his jokes, and remarks. Gamora shushes him once more, as she pats his head gently with her green fingertips.

Krog nudges Thor by the elbow, catching his attention. Handing Thor two massive bags of herbs, and blunts --- expertely. Years spent on Midgard, Krog took up a multitude of hobbies, and conveniently, one of them is rolling up.

“Two?! Look at those big bags!” Gamora shushes Rocket again, fingertips stroking the fur between his ears.

“Do not worry, you will get your fix.” Thor teases, jacket zipped, and ready to take his leave back to the States. Rocket grumbles, snout pouting, as Thor gives his goodbyes.

The brisk Norwegian air fans against his face, a nice reprieve on his skin. Stepping out of the bricked home, he basks in the scenery for a moment.

Catching his sight, perched against the wall of the house by her foot is Brunnhidle. Flickering on a light, igniting her joint, that clung between her lips. Thor hums, leaning on his hip, “How does it feel?”

She exhales a long puff of air, “Amazing. It’s been too long.” She gazes up at the sodden sky with blissful content. Cocking her head to her shoulder, her mirthful eyes catch his. Gesturing to him with the jut of her chin, “Taking some home to my wife?”

Thor playfully grumbles under his breath, “Yes,” he huffs. Brunnhilde breathes a chuckle, “Please, you will tell me how she’ll handle it.” It’s no secret Thor’s precious wife is a little pothead, and has been one of the loudest to hound for the special Asgardian herb.

The blunt that glows with streaks of gold within the twisted wrinkles of the paper is marveled between her fingers, blowing a gust of smoke, “You know she’s going to become a little crackhead for it.”

Thor belly laughs, “When is she not?”

---

Tiny snuffles breathe against your breast-bone --- soft plump cheeks, the slope of a button nose --- as heart-shaped baby lips suckle against the swelled tit; chubby fingers grip sweetly yet with youthful vigor the collar hem of your shirt, tugging it more under your breast.

The infant drinks his milk with joy, doe-eyes gleam at you with such wonder, and innocence, as your fingers fondle tenderly in his thick locks of hair.

Caressing his fuzzy dome, as he drank from you --- the fifth time today --- only five months old, yet already has an appetite that rivals his own father.

Cradling him in your arms, shoulder-blades leaning against the head-board --- supported by massive plush pillows --- pinching fingertips toys with his curls that springs back in shiny coils, his toes curling against the skin of your belly.

The nape of his small head is held by the crock of your elbow, dripples of milk seep from the corner of his mouth, wiping it by your finger, you coo at your son. “My baby boy, so hungry.” Chin to chest, as your lips featherly kiss against his temple; nuzzling the tip of your nose within his curls.

“Bjørn, ljúfi drengurinn minn. Líf mitt.” Bjørn, my boy. My life. The Icelandic language no longer fumbles from your tongue awkwardly --- like it did during the months of your pregnancy.

It was set in stone, a goal to learn the language that was closest to old Norse; an homage to your husband, and a catalyst for your son to grow up proud of his roots.

Bjørn Erik Odinson, born at 4:50 a.m, 8.8 pounds, skin as brown as shiny garnet, pudgy rolls adorning his arms, and legs, small toes that you love to munch on, just to hear his beautiful laugh.

Bjørn excitedly huffs, tit still in his mouth; snuggling him closer to your chest, you trace his pudgy cheek, the slope of his button nose.

You thank your God, and the Gods of all nine realms, for bestowing this fate. For your husband, for your baby, for your surrogate family --- it's everything you ever dreamt for.

A creak lingers near the doorway, your eyes dart upwards --- to catch Thor cheekily standing at the entrance; it’s comical how his bulky shoulders, and towering height just barely fit against the door-frame.

Also --- it’s eerie how a massive 200+ molded demigod that has the power over thunder can tread in silence --- when he wants to, usually he walks around in life as the embodiment of a golden retriever.

Out-stretching your open palm, fingers wiggling; Thor gets the hint, he walks happily towards you, a smile that stretches from ear to ear.

He belly-crawls upon the bed, on his arms, and knees; seeking out your warmth, as his arms circle around your midriff, kissing the small soles of Bjørn’s feet.

“I miss my little bear cub,” another kiss on his tippy toes, “And I’ve missed my queen.” His lips find the flesh of your tummy, an open-wet kiss; suckling the flesh. His lips trail your skin, to the pouch of your belly, a little remnant of your baby weight.

Bjørn’s small toes curl softly against Thor’s forehead, earning a chuckle from him. Thor nuzzles his nose against Bjørn’s under foot, the bridge of his nose wiggles under his small toes.

His milky fingers gently strokes the soft skin of his chubby leg, his blue gems staring adoringly at his son.

“So --- how’s my wife?” You breathe a snicker as Thor pinches the meat of your thigh playfully, earning a squeal from you.

“Brunnhilde is doing just wonderful.” Thor lazily smiles, laying his head back on your stomach. “New Asgard is thriving, and growing.” Thor nuzzles his face against your tummy, as Bjørn drinks from you.

There’s something weighing on your tongue, you’ve been waiting all day for this --- matter-of-fact, you’ve been waiting for months to finally experience the Asgardian high. You nudge your ankle at the arch of his back, Thor happily peers up at you.

“Did you get it?” Your eyes widen owlishly, with fervent yearning. Thor hums, the vibration tickles the slope to your navel, “My queen, you’re insatiable.”

His breath fans your skin, enticing you, you whine, “Thor.” Your ankles shuffle against his midriff, as he belly-laughs.

“Yes, yes.” He spoke through his chuckles, “I made sure to get it.” He kisses you once more.

---

“Thanks again for agreeing to watch him.” You spoke, as you held your son against your chest.

Bjørn’s small fist fondles your golden chain, his little snorts under his breath, you kiss his head with a nibble. “Of course, I just love Bjørn.” Wanda’s hands wiggle, gesturing in ‘gimme gimme’ with the biggest stretched smile, split from ear to ear. Cradling your son in her arms, fawning over him in glee.

“The boys can’t wait to see him, they just love to show Bjørn their toys.”

It was only natural for Bjørn’s godmother to baby-sit him.

Ever since Wanda got her sons, and husband Vision back --- through a turbulent journey of the multiverse where hundreds of different realities branch off from the original where you reside, where you found your brother-in-law alive, by the guiding hand of time-travel, learning the existence of variants, the Watcher above time and space, by the help of Dr. Strange, and his malice other-half, bumping into different Peters --- all whilst pregnant --- to the birth of your son; it’s been a tough long year.

It’s so much more to tell, but recounting in memories pains your brain, and rather rest from it. It’s over and done with, and now everyone can start anew once again.

Bjørn’s little arms encircle the slope of Wanda’s neck, as she nuzzles her face against his cheek.

Bjørn held lovingly against her chest, worries of separation eases itself in your chest --- separation anxiety has been riddling you intensely, if your son wasn’t latched on your chest, you were a wreck.

And so was he.

But this is needed, alone time with the love of your life --- and finally, oh yes finally, able to inhale the sweet Asgardian weed. It was brought up in conversation years ago, when three of your closest friends were alive, and well --- the memory of their happy faces floods tears in your eyes, you miss them dearly.

Rolling up blunts, Tony, Clint and yourself being the weed experts --- Tony was hounding Steve to take just one inhale, practically begging him; nudging the blunt near him.

Thor watched on in amusement.

Unprovoked, boasting in his tone, goblet pinched between his fingers, “On my planet, our herbs are much stronger.” And without such a glance upon you all, he gulps a hefty swallow of his mead, not one spared look.

Tony, and Clint frozen stiff in their seats, eyes widening as fish-eyes, as you stared at Thor agaped, your blunt falls on your lap, mouth hanging open.

“Excuse me, point break?”

“The Aryan Jesus has the nerve to hold out on us!”

“More like Judas!”

Thor chuckles as he gups down the last of his mead, turning his head to glance at all of you, “It’s more used for ceremonies.” Everybody snickers except for Tony, Clint and yourself; more of a jest towards all three of you.

“Darling,” You cut in, crawling on your hands and knees on the couch, nearing a smug Thor, “what are you talking about?” You began pawing at him as a cat.

Onyx painted tips gripping his massive biceps, “Baby, baby, baby---”slithering on his lap, “When were you going to tell me? Me. Of all people, me.”

Thor nearly went cross-eyed as his nose met yours, “You need to bring some---” everyone is crippling in laughter, as you climb on Thor as a little chimp on an oak tree.

It was a fun night, mostly with you badgering Thor to bring some weed back from his planet, with little teasing, ‘Just quickly go home, and come back with it.’ But Thor would shush you with his delicious lips, his arm looped around the nape of your neck, reminding you that the weed back home has become sparse, mostly harvested for special occasions, but he promised to bring some when he could.

Unfortunately, chains of events over the years prevented it from happening --- until now.

“See you later, my baby.” Bjørn giggled as you attacked his plump cheeks with kisses, but another set of lips kissed his curly dome; you felt him, towering over you, his crotch slowly growing for you. “My sweet boy.” Bjørn’s toothless smile gleams with such innocence, and pure happiness, with a little bob of his head against Wanda’s cradling palm.

It was hard for you to part from your son, especially for Thor, he had to compose himself, always wanting his son laying on his chest, caressing his plump cheeks, always carrying his son in his arms everywhere.

Both of you wave as Wanda leaves with your son, his diaper bag hanging at her shoulder --- just for one evening. He’ll be back later, you kept reminding Thor.

A shaky sigh leaves his lips, as the elevator closes, Wanda waves with Bjørn’s little chubby hand in hers.

Twirling on the soles of your feet, you place your open palms on his chest, shushing him. Thor’s eyes closed, his cavity nearly shattering, “It’s okay, baby. It won’t be long till our little cub is back. He’s not even sleeping over.” Standing on the tips of your toes, kissing his molded chest, his thick biceps encircle around your waist, lifting you up.

You kiss the tip of his nose, hugging the slope of his neck with your arms; as he rocks you back and forth.

---

“Are you ready, my love?”

A joint pinched between his fingertips, within the wrinkled twistings was fluorescent glimmers of rainbow colors --- its scent was potent, yet intoxicating. Just a small whiff of it is strong to your senses. Anxious hands try to paw at his wrist, but Thor holds it far from you, tsking you.

“Patience,” Thor muses, kissing your forehead, pacifying your huffs, softly stomping your foot. “You must inhale carefully. Please, my love.” His fingers cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb strokes your skin, you mewl.

“I promise.”

---

It’s idyllic.

It’s --- there’s no words to describe the high you’re experiencing. Time ceases, your skin prickles with goosebumps; you felt as if you were floating on your back. Laying down on the carpeted flooring, spread eagle, as Thor rests his head on your belly.

Splotches of colors paint the air, your tongue is delighted, as if you can taste the chromas. Soon the atmosphere shifted shade --- from calm dewy sunlight to a serene verdant cast upon the living space.

Gleaming through the ceiling high windows, daylight settles calmly; the atmosphere is soothing.

As if landing on another planet, you both star-gazing into the skies of a foregin galaxy.

Both of you frolicking around the empty compound, naked, tearing each other's clothes off, rolling around the carpeted floor; kissing, and dry humping.

It’s delirious, and you laugh, and he laughs --- you both can’t stop. Reality shifts into another plane of existence --- as if you left Earth.

“Thor, where are we?”

“In our own world, my love.” He hugs you, lifting you up in the air, melting into a field, the grass feels soft like the pillows back home. You can let go, a nether land; it’s amazing.

You look up to the sky, you can see the moon up close, yet far enough. Gazing upon it, you whisper “Thor, do you see that?” Pointing up at the sky, milky lavender with twinkling stars, it looks like the northern lights down on Earth.

A surge of emotions bloom in your chest, such deep love for Thor, for Bjørn, for life --- life, life, life. You’re alive, it’s okay to feel pain, feel everything life gives.

Is this a coming to Jesus moment?

“I love you.” You wail, tears fall down your cheeks, “Oh God, I love you.” You cry, a smile that makes your cheeks hurt, your hands on his chest, head falls back.

You look down to see Thor is crying too, but that toothy smile fades into a wrinkled frown; shushing him, hands on his cheeks. “Don’t cry, baby.” Kissing his nose, the crease between his brows, the slope of his nose, and his lips.

“Why are you crying?”

Thor cries like a baby, sputtering, “I love you so much. You’re so beautiful.” Overcome with emotions, rubbing his wet eyes with his hands, sniffling. As if a balm, you soothe him, small kisses on his quivering lips. Cocooning him in the warmth of your embrace, you lean your weight on him, holding onto him.

His massive biceps ensnare around your body, pinning you against him. He’s overwhelmed with love, his love for you, and Bjørn, the love for his brother --- he’s just so overcome with happiness, and yet it makes him cry.

Because of the pain that had to occur for this light.

---

“Slab that fucking butter on it, babe.” You slur, clumsily your tongue licks your dry lips, stomach rumbling hungrily, as Thor’s massive bear hands slather guabs of butter on the cherry frosted pop-tart.

Your cheek squishes against his bicep, droopily your eyes close, and open, unevenly one after the other.

It’s been an hour since Thor and you come down from your delirious high --- and soon, beastly appetites come crashing down.

Thor scruffs down the tart, as you stuff small chunks of strawberry treat into your mouth, the creamy butter melts in your mouth.

Thor leans down, licking crumbs from the corner of your mouth, his warm tongue lapping at your lips. You giggle, as he playfully nibbles at your cheek.

His thick arms encircle around your waist, pulling you to his chest, lifting you in the air effortlessly. Squealing, nose scrunching at his wet lips, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Totinos with M&Ms, the warmth of the totinos melted the chocolate, creating a delicious coating. Mouthfuls of junk food, with hooded eyes, and cheeks puffed as chipmunks. Giggling as little toddlers, sharing sloppy kisses, able to lick the gooey chocolate from his mouth; sucking on his tongue.

The kitchen counter is littered with open bags of chips, candy wrappers, and boxes of pizza squares. It’s a jungle of high carbs, and fattening sugar, but the intense munchies are astronomical.

“Wow.” Mobius chuckles at the kitchen’s entrance, arms crossed against his chest; a warm flick of a tongue at the shell of his ear jolts him. Arms encircle around Loki’s chin rests on the jut of his shoulder, “This is nothing new, my brother can feast as three horses.”

“And so can she.”

What a comical but endearing sight for Loki and Mobius to capture, coming back home from jet-riding in the compound’s lake.

The two lovers gawk with mirth in their eyes, watching you and Thor devour sugary snacks, concoctions of a mind-blowing haze. The lingering high makes your minds float, nuzzling your noses together, giggling.

---

Bellies full with junk food, giggles echo, and bounce in the air; the room smells heavily of herb. Your thigh is looped around Thor’s tummy, your arm sloped over his chest, as he holds you close with his thick bicep. Fingertips soft as petals caress his blonde chest hair, scratching him.

“My love,” your limbs stretched lazily, satisfied, and cozy; Thor purrs under your touch. Cradling you closer to his chest, practically laying on top of him.

A naughty thought lights up above your head, remembering the little idea you conjured up a few weeks ago, wanting to try with Thor.

“I have a surprise for my king.” You whisper against the base of his throat, a wet smooch. Thor hums, “And what is that, pussycat?” You giggle low, “My love, what would you do if there were two of me?”

A rumble of a growl vibrates inside his chest, “You know what I would do.” You purr, nibbling at his chest, “What would you do?” Breathy whispers, goading him, needing to feed, and fuck on his feralness.

His palm cups at your neck, pulling you to his lips; slick lips, tongue dancing, teeth gnashing. His fingers cradle your chin, making sure you don’t slip away from him. “Naughty,” his lips flick at your lip, “My love is naughty minx.” A shit-eating grin forms on your mouth.

“What are you thinking?”

“Imagine it, baby.” You perch yourself up, thighs parted by his belly, slowly crawling down his body, your kisses following in the wake of your bodily heat; loud kisses that spurs Thor on. Moving downward on his body, with wet open kisses in your wake, dull scratches on his belly skin.

“Oh my love, what a treat I have for you.” You whisper against his pelvis, just an inch above his cock; already hardening. Hunched over, your fingers begin to zap at the tips, “A thank you just for you.”

Violet magnetic energy seeps from your fingertips, soothing Thor’s mind --- settling his spirit to an ease, a moan filters in his ears, but your lips didn’t move. He squints his eyes --- another arm floats near behind your back, springing alive.

Rolling behind you was --- you. Naked, and wanton, but with slick straight hair that reaches your bare breasts. Thor’s eyes widen owlishly. Arms seeking out for him, caressing his legs as your lips slither between your slick lips, licking a stripe against his cock.

Now, bare and at his mercy, were two of you, with lustful feline eyes.

A breath catches at his throat, as you both roll your tongues, purring as cats. Pawing at him, comfortably perching yourselves at his hung, wet, pulsing cock; it twitches making your two halves cross-eyed.

You flick the tip of your tongue at the swollen head, making your clone giggle. Bowing its head down, softly taking Thor’s tightening balls in the warm cave of its mouth.

He growls low in his throat, his head falls back, memorized, drunk off the pleasure, babbling to himself, to you, low moans, murmurs that catch your ears that he loves you, and only you.

Milking him in your mouth, as your other half licks, and drenches his balls with saliva; trailing down to the satiny stretch of skin that connects to his ass. Slurps, and moans make Thor’s eyes roll to the back of his skull.

Spit coats the jut of your chin, shiny, as your duplicate tugs Thor’s sack between slick coated lips; trailing a lick upwards, the pink muscle tracing every ridge of veins. Taking turns gagging on him, spit bubbles pops and soaks his cock, and the corners of your mouths.

Bobbing your head with vigor, his cock hitting the back of your throat ---- gawk gawk gawk. Eyes watery to the brim, having Thor melt under your touch, and the power of your mouth.

“I wanna taste his cock too.” Your other-half whines pathetically, nudging your shoulder in jealousy, his cock escapes your lip, with a pop, and an airy gurgle; heavily breathing through your nose.

With a gentle grip of his cock, slapping your clone’s wanton tongue with his dick, his salty semen coating its mouth.

Your other hand glides against its spine, gripping the nape of its neck; its hair bone-straight now in a makeshift ponytail, guiding it down Thor’s dick.

Thor’s eyes were blown black with lust, his chest heaving intensely, every fiber of his being shaking; sweat collects at his brow, and neck, his massive hands clawing and clenching the bed-sheets. His toes curl, snarling, teeth gnawing at the air, groaning gutturally.

What a sight --- so filthy, so debauched.

And you’re all his.

“Make him cum,” You hiss, your eyes bore into his, nearing the shell of its ear, “make him cum deep in your throat.” Goading Thor, a full stripe of your tongue against his pubic-bone, to feel his trimmed hair against your soft tongue --- it just fuels you more.

“You like it, baby.” He nods hastily, you snicker, the wet gags echo, “You love it when I use my throat as a cock sleeve for you.”

“A slut, a filthy slut, and I love you.” Thor shrills a whine, “A dirty succubus --- guh, mine, all mine--- all UUGhh.” Thor’s spine arches off the bed, beating his fists against the mattress, as his cock spurts cum deep down the duplicate’s throat; gagging, and gurgling happily.

Thor’s head blops against the pillow, trying to catch air into his lungs, ragged breaths. The mixture of his high and the bliss of an incredible orgasm fuzzies his head.

As he recollects himself, he tucks his head down --- both you and your clone stare at him with feral grins, all fangs, waiting like predators to bounce. A gasp catches at Thor’s throat.

As you crawl over his toned thighs, perching yourself on his hips, and your clone slithers upon his chest, gently grazing the puss against his torso, reaching his face; thighs hover his face. Soaking mound winking back at him, and he growls.

Without any hesitation, he tugs your duplicate downward to his yearning mouth, but it giggles, refusing to go down so easily. He whines like a puppy.

You tsk at him playfully, aligning yourself, your folds hugging, and gliding down on Thor’s thick veiny cock; to finally with the tender guide of your palm, hovering over his weeping cock.

“Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder, cut down by pussy.” Swiftly your cunt swallows him whole, to the hilt, as you rested at his hips.

He groans, pretty pink lips parting, as your counterpart seats on his face tenderly. A groan rumbles deep in his throat, as his tongue laps at your velvety folds.

“My queen.” He growls, devouring your cunt, as you rode him wildly, blindly; in a frenzy. His balls slap against your puckering asshole, his massive hand on your asscheeks, as the other laid firm on your clone’s hip.

It’s bliss, to not only have one but two of you, taking him apart --- the pleasure that swirls in his chest must be what warriors feel entering Vallah. Bruising fingertips cling onto hips, guiding your soppy cunt on his tongue, slurping as a mad man.

His mouth slathered in your juices, tastes sweet just as you. The jut of his chin soaked, shining; watering his beard. Your other half grips the headboard, Thor’s beard chafing inner thighs, unabashedly grinding on his mouth --- and you felt it all.

Overstimulated at the sensation, your cunt ignited by the pleasure of his tongue, grinding him. Your clit is throbbing, and hot. Your sex is ingited, soaking Thor’s thigh, slick as you glide back and forth, balls deep. He can feel your puckering asshole on his balls, your chest heaving; riding him akin to a wild animal.

Thighs quivering, as one of your palms grip your hair, the other has fingers digging into Thor’s hip, panting airy breaths. Crashing onto him, as if you both were touch-starved.

Teeth softly gnashing at the peach-fuzz cunt, tongue fluttering, diving deep inside the folds, teasing the hole --- without any thought, Thor plunges his tongue inside. You screech, head tilting back, both you and your clone unison, your cunt clenched tightly upon Thor’s cock.

He snarls --- a mixture of something of a yelp, and a growl. You need more, this furor of his tongue, and his cock fucking into your wet cavern --- the end nerves crashing as waves to the shore --- you can feel it all, all of it coiling, and all too much; so much that it’s deliciously painful.

Perching his feet against the mattress, the hand that rests on your waist, guiding you up, as Thor fucks into you; snarling, gnawing at the air as a beast. Your wetness squelching into echos, spurring Thor on, he felt like a king.

Your fingernails scratching along his chest hair that trickles into his happy trail, bending forward to lick at his belly; suckling.

Airy pants, as you savored his pouch, he’s toning his body is slowly coming back to his chiseled form, but you just love his softness. His warm plumpness is like a pillow, to sleep on, to kiss, to bite.

“Guh,” Thor hoists your hips off of his face for a moment, “my queen is an insatiable beast.”

“No more than you, my liege.” Grinding harder, desperate crashing, to catch that delirious high of his cum. Your voice falls into silence, “I feel it,” you whine, “I fucking need it.” The coiling pit in your stomach begins churning, and it’s tightening.

“Uggh, Thor --- I” A high-pitched shrill, both voices now blend together, unison in pleasure, hips thrashing. Your cunt clenches on his cock, wound tight, your vision began to blur --- kismet energy began to manifest and spark within the air; emitting from both Thor, and yourself.

Oceanic blue with blinding white streaks and bruising violet so rich it bleeds as a welt into the air, intermixing --- thunder cracks in the distance, the raw power of a god vibrates against the window pane.

The sky has become sodden above the upstate county, thunder cracking within the clouds.

His belly tightens, as hips thrust upwards inside you --- more sloppy, and uneven, but the intensity hasn’t eased; his vigor has heightened. Soaking balls slapping against skin, smacking wet against your puckering ass.

“My love, I’m going to ---” Thor is rendered speechless, his words trailing into babbling, fumbling lips against wet folds. You hiss with a grin, “I know,” your open-palm caress against his pelvis, “I can feel it too. I’m close.”

Desperate pants, and huffs of air, Thor rumbles, his voice trills through your other half, making it squeal, the meat of its thighs quiver, and jolt, nibbling on swollen clit. “Soak me! Fuck --- uggh, soak my cock!” His voice is husky, and wanton, hungry as a wolf.

Thunder crackles outside, as Thor groans, painting the walls of your cavern white, spilling from your spilt jewel, dribbling down the base of his pulsing cock, as you shrill together with your half, as it coats Thor’s mouth, and watering his golden beard.

Vein pulsing at the throat, resembling a feral creature, as your cunt clenching, milking Thor’s cock, his balls drained. Riding Thor, selfishly savoring every drop of him, and every second of your orgasm.

Your other-half looks down to Thor, chin to chest, his breathing ragged, fanning against the skin of your mound, eyes blown --- a pucker of a kiss, and wink --- then it's gone, evaporated into rich lavender mist, with a faint moan.

Your body aches happily, with tiresome limbs you crawl over Thor, with his hands pulling you against his chest.

Nuzzling your head under his chin, your leg crossed over his belly, boneless melting into the mattress. Thor whispers your name, “I love you,” his fingers scratch your scalp, “No other woman can compare.” He hums.

“You bring the beast out of me.” You giggle, small kisses on his molded chest, “I love you too.” A suckle on his nipple. Cheek to chest, you can hear his heart-beat, it lulls you.

Both of you are falling asleep under the warm blankets.

---

A flicker in the foggy distance of his mind awakens him slowly, he grunts sleepily. A familiar scent wafts through the crevices of his mind, his nose twitches.

Pretty lashes flutter open, his vision blur for a moment, to see you hovering over him, dangling the blunt just above his nostrils.

He must have fallen asleep, so comfortable in the bubble of your scents, and body heat.

Teasing him awake, you chuckle at Thor’s sleepy pout, “My love, another?” He stretches his muscles as a feline, you jiggle on top of him from the bodily movements.

You playfully shrug, “Our baby will be back in two hours,” you twirl the blunt between your fingers, lips pursing. “So, why not have a little bit more?” You giggle, trapping your bottom lip by the teeth.

He hums, his eyes hooded; wordlessly he plucks the blunt from your fingers, perching it in his lips.

“An insatiable wife, I have.”

You hum, gliding down on his belly, legs bent back in the air, ankles locked, “And what a beast of a husband, I have.” You giggle against his chest, with a nuzzling kiss.

[3mcwritingmcuhcs]

How the Avengers Would React to You Falling Asleep on Their Shoulder

(Includes: Thor and Natasha, was gonna do more but i got tired lol, gonna be a part 2 posted later with other Avengers)

Now, we all know Thor is a huge himbo.

He's huge on physical affection--hugs, ruffling people's hair, patting them on the back--if he has adopted you as his friend, you are now subject to being bombarded with pure, wholesome, himbo interactions.

Now, let's say that one night, during one of the usual movie nights (bc you can't tell me that they didn't have any), you sat down next to him. Well, as we've established, he is very physically affectionate, which means that whoever ends up next to him pretty much volunteers to be his personal teddy bear.

One week it was Steve, the next it was Tony (though if ever brought up, he'd only pull up a video of when Thor did it to Steve), honestly, almost everyone had been in that position.

But this night, you were more tired than usual. Training had been harder that day, you hadn't gotten a great amount of sleep, and you were just exhausted.

Enter Thor's natural cuddliness.

You scooted up next to him on the large couch, leaning your head back against his side. Before you knew it, the comfortable warmth combined with him shifting to where your head was cushioned against his rather voluptuous pecs, had meant you were entirely too comfortable.

Five minutes into the movie and you were out.

Thor didn't notice until Natasha pointed out, too entranced with the strange Midgardian performance on the screen.

"Huh, I guess she wasn't exaggerating when she said she was exhausted," Natasha had commented, making Thor look to his left, only for that movement to cause you to slide.

Luckily, you didn't wake up, and instead only curled closer into his side.

Thor just looked down at you in awe.

You looked so pretty.

He stayed entirely still for the rest of the movie night, determined to let you rest as long as you needed.

He succeeded, but at the cost of him also dozing off on the couch.

The rest of the team saw the content expressions and let you two be, though a certain someone was very tempted to draw mustaches on the both of you.

Natasha isn't a super touchy person.

After years of being nothing but a weapon for other's use, her bodily autonomy was something she couldn't bear to lose.

That's not to say that she couldn't be autonomous while still having no problem with touch, but she had used her body to get what others wanted for years.

She couldn't just forget all that and be able to hug people like anybody else. She had to work through it. And though she spent years reclaiming herself, making things right, things still stuck.

With the people she genuinely cared about, she was comfortable with physical affection, but she also didn't feel pressured into giving it. She didn't have to act like nothing phased her.

With you, she could just be Nat, not "the Black Widow" or "Natalie Rushman" or even "Natasha Romanoff". She wasn't an Avenger or a spy or an agent.

She was just her.

Given how close the two of you were, you had grown to understand her unease with sudden physical affection.

You respected her boundaries, only giving her that type of affection when she specifically said that it was okay.

One day though, you broke your rule of asking first.

It was dark out, the two of you were on the roof of the compound, looking up at the sky.

You were both sitting up, talking quietly, the occasional laugh exchanged.

But you had severely underestimated how tired you were.

Natasha felt your head rest on her shoulder, being faintly surprised just because you hadn't asked as you usually did.

But when she saw that your eyes were closed and your breathing was slow and even, she smiled softly.

Sure, touch wasn't her forte, but you had never made her uncomfortable, you had never pressured her, you had always stood close (but not too close, because you understood her need for personal space), and smiled at her sincerely no matter what.

Having you fall asleep on her shoulder, well, it just felt like the most pure affirmation that you trusted her.

And maybe she wouldn't let most people do it.

But you weren't most people.