Thor. So much Thor. Someone who loves you without discretion, just openly pining for you even though yo're already together
Title: You're Lurking
Pairing: Thor x Female Reader
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Minors DNI, Fingering, Thor beinga menace
Word Count: 2k
A/N: Ok so this started as something shorter in response to my post.. but it kinda got outta hand... WHERE MY THOR GIRLS AT @crazyunsexycool.... @tarithenurse thankyou for this.. this was fun I do like the idea of my black cat 'NO TOUCHIES' clashing with Thor's need for physical affection.. also supposed to be working but *sneaky*
You had been trying to finish the same task for the better part of twenty minutes.
Trying being the important word.
You would have been done, but Thor had been behind you for at least ten of them, and once Thor decided to hover, there was very little hope of accomplishing anything at all.
At first, it had only been his presence; large and war, though impossible to ignore. Slowly filling the room with the sort of quiet weight that made you aware of every inch of space around you. He had said nothing. Just stood there behind your stool, close enough that you could feel the heat of him at your back, the faint shift of air every time he breathed.
Lurking.
If you’d asked him, of course, he would disagreed
He was admiring.
You dipped your pen again, jaw tightening as you tried to ignore him.
“You are doing that on purpose.” You finally broke the silence.
Thor made a low, thoughtful sound. “Doing what?”
You kept your eyes on the page. “Standing there. Like some enormous, golden threat.”
That earned you a quiet laugh, warm with amusement. “A threat? To whom?”
“To my concentration.”
He hummed again, entirely too pleased with himself. “Ah.”
You managed three more words before his shadow shifted over you. Not much. Just enough that the back of your arm brushed his thigh when you moved.
Your grip tightened on the pen.
“Thor.”
“Yes?”
“Go away.”
“Nay.”
The answer came easily, without even a hint of shame. You finally turned your head enough to glare at him over your shoulder, only to find him already looking at you; blue eyes bright, mouth tipped into the kind of smile that always meant he was enjoying himself far too much.
He looked beautiful when he was being difficult. Which was, unfortunately, often.
“You are unbearable,” you informed him.
“And yet,” he said, leaning one broad shoulder against the edge of the desk, “you keep me.”
You rolled your eyes and turned back to your work, though you could feel the heat rising in your face at the simple, smug truth of it. He did not move away. If anything, he came closer still, until the heavy line of his body was nearly at your back again, all patience worn thin beneath the surface.
That was the thing about Thor. People who did not know him well mistook him for straightforward in the simplest sense. Easy. Blunt. All open affection and broad smiles and plainspoken wanting.
And he was those things.
But Thor, when he wanted, was relentless.
Not sly. Not subtle.
Just certain.
You tried to finish the line in front of you. Tried very hard, in fact. But then his hand came down on the desk beside yours, huge and rough and veined, his rings catching the light, and something inside you skipped.
“Come here,” he said.
You didn’t look at him. “No.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then his other hand settled at your waist.
Not asking.
Just warm and firm and heavy enough that your breath caught.
“Thor.”
“You have been doing this forever,” he murmured.
“I have not.”
“You have.” He lent down. His mouth brushed your temple, not quite a kiss, more the promise of one. “And you have ignored me the entire time.”
“That was the hope.”
He made a soft, offended sound, humphing against your hair, and before you could brace, he drew you back in the stool until your spine met the solid wall of his chest. The pen slipped from your fingers and rolled across the desk, forgotten instantly.
“Thor—”
“Enough.”
The word was low, not sharp, but it still settled through you like a command. His nose traced the line of your cheek, then your jaw, and the scratch of his beard followed a second later; rough enough to make your skin prickle, soft enough to make you shiver.
Your fingers tightened uselessly on the edge of the desk.
“I was busy,” you muttered, though it already sounded half-hearted, your voice thinner than you meant it to.
Thor’s hand spread over your stomach, splaying wide as if to measure you. To claim the space. The other slid higher, slow and deliberate, up the center of your body until he could curve it around your ribs.
“You are busy often,” he murmured against your skin.
“Yes, because some of us do things.”
A quiet laugh rumbled through him, the sound vibrating straight into your back. “And some of us,” he said, nosing at the sensitive place below your ear, “have needs.”
You sucked in a breath as his mouth finally closed there, hot and open and unhurried. The scrape of his beard along your neck made your shoulders tense before they loosened just as fast, your head threatening to tip back of its own accord.
No.
You tried to hold onto your annoyance.
It would have been easier if he were teasing in a cleaner way, or if he were trying to provoke you. But Thor’s wanting was never cruel. Never calculated. He touched you like a man who adored you, who saw no reason to hide it, who thought your body was something to be praised with his hands and mouth whenever he pleased.
Which made resisting him deeply unfair.
“Stop it,” Even you heard the weakness in your own voice.
His mouth curved against your throat. “That was unconvincing.”
“I mean it.”
The hand at your waist tightened just enough to pull you fully against him. There was no missing the heavy line of his body behind you now, the hard evidence of exactly what had prompted this bout of admiration. He was half hard at least, maybe more, and getting worse by the second if the pleased, rough breath he let out was anything to go by.
Heat pooled low in your belly before you could stop it.
You hated that he noticed everything.
“You melt quickly,” Thor murmured.
You turned your face away. “I do not.”
Another kiss. Slower this time. Then a drag of teeth that made your breath catch outright.
“You do.”
His fingers flexed over your stomach, then drifted lower by mere inches, close enough to be suggestive without quite crossing the line. That was another cruel thing about him, he did not always rush. Sometimes Thor was greedy in the slowest possible way, touching you just enough that your body began to lean into it before you even realized you had given in.
“Thor,” you warned softly.
He answered by turning your stool
It happened with absurd ease. Suddenly you were facing him, your knees falling apart around his thighs as he stepped between them. The room seemed smaller now, narrowed down to his chest, his hands, the bright hunger in his eyes.
There was a flush high on his cheeks. You loved that, loved that Thor, for all his confidence, still looked almost boyishly undone when he wanted you badly.
“You stare,” you murmured.
“Aye.” His hands settled on your thighs, broad and hot. “I enjoy it.”
“You were looming.”
“I was admiring.”
“You were absolutely lurking.”
That grin again. Wicked, pleased, unrepentant.
“And now?”
Your breath went shallow as his thumbs dragged over the insides of your thighs, pushing your robe, your skirt, your whatever-you’d-been-foolish-enough-to-wear-around-him.. pushed higher by degrees.
“Now,” you said carefully, “you are being a pest.”
Thor bent, just enough to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth. “A pest?”
“Mm, needy pest..”
Another kiss. Closer this time. His beard scraped sweetly at your skin.
“And yet,” he murmured, “you still have not sent me away.”
You opened your mouth to argue and found his gaze waiting for you, warm, intent, already certain of his victory. There was no mockery in it. Only want. Open, shameless want, and the fondness threaded through it made your stomach tighten more than the touch itself.
Because that was always the danger with Thor.
Not merely that he desired you.
That he did it so openly. So lovingly. As though wanting you was the simplest truth in the world.
His forehead touched yours.
“Come here,” he asked this time, softer now.
And this time, when his hands slid from your thighs to your hips, you let him pull you forward.
The sound he made was deep and satisfied, almost reverent. He kissed you properly at last, and it was all heat and patience breaking at once, his mouth warm and thorough, one hand climbing up your back while the other stayed firm at your waist, keeping you close as though you might still think to wriggle free.
You kissed him back with less grace than you might have liked.
Thor seemed delighted by that too.
He took and took, kissing you until your lips felt swollen, until your neat little task on the desk no longer seemed to belong to the same world as this one. By the time he let you breathe, your hands had drifted up over his shoulders, fingers slipping into the ends of his hair, and his pupils were blown wide with pleasure.
“There you are,” he murmured.
You were still catching your breath. “I was always here.”
“Aye,” he said, thumb brushing your lower lip. “But now you are paying attention to me.”
You might have rolled your eyes, if his hand had not chosen that exact moment to slide up the inside of your thigh again. This time there was no hovering. No almost. His fingers spread, then settled hot and possessive where your body was already softening, already betraying you.
Your inhale stuttered.
Thor watched your face, fascinated. Always fascinated. As though every little reaction you gave him was a marvel.
“Going to tell me to stop?” he said.
The words should have felt like a challenge.
Instead they landed warm between you, full of confidence, full of knowledge. He knew what answer he would get. Or rather, what answer your body had already given him.
His thumb stroked once, just enough to make your thighs twitch around his hand.
You swallowed.
“Enough,” you tried.
Thor’s eyes flicked up to yours, bright with laughter and heat. “Nay.”
Then he kissed you again, the hand between your thighs moved with slow, deliberate purpose, rough fingers finding you already warm, already wanting, until any remaining thought of work dissolved entirely.
He didn't rush; instead, he explored with possessive intent, one finger first, thick and insistent, stretching you open as your slick heat welcomed him, coating his skin in your arousal. The intrusion was unyielding yet tender, his callused tips curling against your inner walls with a deliberate drag that sent sparks racing up your spine. Then a second joined, scissoring gently to widen you further, the pressure building a deep, aching fullness that made your hips buck involuntarily against his palm.
“Thor-”
“Aye, sweet girl.” His voice had gone rough. You could feel his restraint in it now, fraying fast.
Your head tipped back. His mouth dropped to your throat at once, catching the exposed line of it as though he had been waiting for the invitation. The scrape of beard, the hot press of lips, the broad weight of his hand working you into softness…it was too much and exactly enough, the kind of attention that made your whole body feel helplessly, gloriously known.
“This was your fault,” you whispered, because saying anything sweeter felt dangerous.
He laughed against your skin, fingers pressing more firmly until your breath broke around a helpless sound.
He thrust slowly at first, withdrawing almost to the tips before plunging back in, each motion deliberate, grinding the heel of his hand against the swollen nub that throbbed under his touch. The wet sounds of your body yielding to him filled the air, mingling with your ragged gasps, as he hooked his fingers just so, brushing that sensitive ridge inside you that unraveled your composure thread by thread.
A/N: Entry for January Jumble Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles
Prompt: Jan 30th “Do you believe in life after love?”
Thor’s weight drove you deeper into the mattress, every thrust pushing the air from your lungs.
He was huge inside you, each stroke stretching you so wide it bordered on pain, the kind that blurred into something dizzying and sharp-edged. It had all happened so fast; his mouth on yours, the taste of ale, salt..helpless grief, your back hitting the wall… then the bed.
Too fast for you to find the words that might have stopped him.
How’d you stop a grieving god?
“Thor…” You clutched at his shoulders, fingers digging into hard muscle, feeling the tremor in his arms where he held himself up over you. His thrusts filled you, relentless, the drag of his cock making your body arch up to meet him even as your chest tightened with something like panic, sympathy, want.
His eyes were wild, blue gone dark, rimmed red from a thousand unshed tears he’d never let fall.
“Need you.” he rasped, hips grinding deep, grinding home. You could only mewl, gasp, a broken sound catching in your throat as pleasure built like a storm, hot and heavy, rolling in.
Thor forehead dropped to yours; breath ragged against your mouth. “I have lost everything,” he whispered, each word punctuated by the punch of his hips. “My home..people. My brother. My family..”
You felt his hand slide around your throat, before going to your shoulder, gripping to anchoring himself, while keeping you down. His eyes searched yours, desperate, pleading in a way his voice never could be.
“Tell me,” Thor panted, lips brushing yours, “do you believe in life after love?”
You didn’t answer with words; your body did, clenching around him, dragging a shattered groan from his chest as both of you tumbled headfirst into the ruin and the relief of it.
A/N: And we are off and running people! First Entry for January Jumble Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles
Prompt: Jan 1st “Oh what are you doing here? The sun is up!”
The night before had been… a lot.
Thor had made you moan so loud it had bounced off the walls, your legs back and filled you past your limit. The scratch of his beard on your inner thigh as he licked you open with greedy reverence. The way his growl vibrated through your chest when he bit down gently on your shoulder, holding you still while he drove into you hard enough to make the bed creak beneath you. It had been passionate, feral. like it was every time you decided to give into lust.
But now…
Now the sun was up.
You blinked awake in the golden morning light, instantly alert the moment you felt the arm draped across your waist.
Shit.
You never stayed over.
Thor stirred behind you, the shift in the bed barely a warning before a surprised, delighted sound rumbled in his chest. “Oh!” he exclaimed brightly. His bare chest pressed into your back as he nuzzled into your hair, lips brushing your neck with a grin you could hear. “What are you doing here? The sun is up!”
You tensed.
You could feel the pleased grin on his face before you even turned to look. That wide, satisfied expression. You knew that look. He thought this meant something.
You forced a small smile, rolling onto your back. “Oh… yeah. I just… thought it would be nice?”
Gods, could you sound any more awkward?
Thor blinked down at you, one hand braced beside your head, his long hair falling forward like a curtain. He looked thrilled. Glowing.
And you?
You were doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out how to tell a literal god of thunder that commitment wasn’t really your thing.
I’ve been thinking about The Lion’s Lap Thor x reader and I would love to know how Thor would react if reader slipped her security detail for just a little bit while out shopping. He’s furious but when he realizes that she was buying lingerie to wear just for him is he maybe a little forgiving? Does he let her come? Or does he edge her until she’s really sorry for having scared him by disappearing like that?
Feel free to not answer I’m just horny for Thor 😂😂
This one has been sitting in my Ask for a minute and I've been dying for the mental bandwidth for it! And this seemed like the perfect moment for it!
Title: Calculated Christmas
Pairing: Mob!Thor x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Established Relationship, Mob AU, emotional vulnerability/mild angst..maybe more then Mild.. possessiveness/protective behaviour, Gentle D/s tones (soft dom, power held in check) Pet names (Mouse)
A/N: Thank your again for this ask Val, I do love these two and can’t wait to tell their story properly in 2026.. @crazyunsexycool this is for you!!! And all my other Thor people out there! (yes i did alter the header image for this slightly the other will return for the main fic... when it comes)
You sat at the edge of the bed, hands curled neatly in your lap, the crisp hem of your cardigan caught between your fingers. A single white box rested beside you on the duvet, wrapped with a thin gold ribbon you had tied yourself, twice, in fact, because the first time it hadn't sat right. The box gleamed softly in the glow from the bedside lamp, the only light in the room save for the gold-flecked fire dancing in the hearth.
The low murmur of Christmas carols played from your phone on the nightstand, but you weren't really listening anymore. The song had looped three times already, and you still hadn't moved. It felt like background noise to the silence you were actually listening for, footsteps in the hall, the creak of the door, the deep rumble of his voice. Anything.
You'd tried to keep busy. You had spent the afternoon arranging presents beneath the tree, folding freshly laundered towels, smoothing wrapping paper into flat stacks to recycle. You'd even gone so far as to polish silverware in the dining room; not that he noticed those kinds of things, not really. But you needed something to do. Something to ease the tight twist of guilt curled low in your stomach. A task with edges and order. A distraction.
You’d checked the window three times, pretending you were just admiring the snow. You weren’t. You were hoping to see his shadow, some sign that he was coming back to you.
Heimdall hadn't said much when you'd returned.
His disappointment hadn't been loud. It had made it feel worse. The quiet. Cold. Just a single, brief glance and the way he had murmured, "He wants time."
You had nodded. Thanked him. Not asked for forgiveness, not tried to explain. You hadn’t wanted to waste the words. You’d already used them all rehearsing your excuse in your head.
It was a mistake. No. You wouldn’t think that
Because you hadn’t meant to do anything wrong. Not really.
The gift had taken weeks of planning. The risk had been calculated, stupid and laced with hope. All you'd wanted was to surprise your lion. Not with anything grand, Thor was used to grand. You wanted to give him something just for him. Something chosen with your own two hands, had even had custom made, done with care, imagined just for his eyes. You’d thought he might smile. Maybe even laugh. That deep rumble of a laugh you liked best when it was muffled into your skin.
But now?
Now you sat alone in the bedroom, your mouth dry, your heartbeat tucked in your throat. Thor hadn't come to dinner. He hadn't come to the bedroom You didn't know if he would. The hours crawled. You’d changed your clothes twice. Brushed your hair for no reason. Set the box on the bed. Moved it. Put it back.
Now the box sat untouched beside you and you wished, more than anything, that he would come in and yell. You could survive yelling. But this silence? This absence?
You weren’t sure what to do with it. It hollowed something out inside you, something that had felt steady before, but now shifted beneath the weight of your own misjudgment.
You weren’t cold, but you pulled the cardigan tighter around your body all the same, like it might shield you from whatever would come next.
You didn’t hear the door open, but you felt it. The shift in the air, like the weather changing. The way the room seemed to still itself, holding its breath, as though the walls knew something you didn’t yet. The firelight wavered slightly, like it, too, had been caught off guard.
You looked up just as Thor stepped inside, broad shoulders haloed in the hallway light, his silhouette cutting through the doorway like a storm front. His face was unreadable, carved into something ancient and unmoving.
"You went out today," he said simply, voice low, a blade sheathed in velvet.
You nodded, the word catching slightly in your throat. "Yes."
"You left your phone. Your bag in the car.”
You swallowed. You wouldn’t lie "I didn’t want to be traced. I needed to be... off the grid. Just for a little while."
Thor’s eyes darkened slightly, his jaw ticking once before it set hard. A faint ripple moved through his shoulders, as if he were restraining something, words or worse. The tendons in his neck stood out with tension.
"I thought we had a better understanding about what was important."
You swallowed. "Today was important."
He moved further into the room, the door closing with a soft click behind him. "Must've been," he muttered, gaze flicking to the unopened box beside you, "for you to go to the trouble you went to."
You didn’t speak. Not yet.
"I had every system looking for you," he continued. "Heimdall lost you. Do you understand how rare that is? I was about to send out ever solider for you. Do you know the first thing that came to my mind?"
"Loki," you whispered.
You had been so blindsided by your own excitement, by the idea of pulling something off on your own, of creating a moment that you had orchestrated for him that you hadn’t fully considered the total landscape of your shared lives. Of what your absence would mean in his world. While you knew you’d been safe the entire time, nestled among holiday crowds and cheery music, that wasn’t the point - not to him.
"Yes, Or worse." Thor said, his voice low and taut. "Forty minutes. They couldn’t find you. Do you know how long that is in my world- our world?"
Suddenly you did.
Images that hadn't even occurred to you earlier now exploded behind your eyes with startling clarity: being snatched from the street, dragged into a van, muzzled, gagged. Your wrists bound, your mouth bleeding from screaming his name. You imagined yourself held somewhere dark, terrified and tear-streaked, all because someone wanted to punish him. Because they knew how to hurt him by going through you.
You thought of being touched…handled….by someone who wasn’t Thor. Someone defiling what he protected. Your stomach lurched, your fingers tightening knotting with themselves.
A long pause stretched between you. You could feel the anger still pulsing in the air around him, but it was tangled with something else now. Hurt. Fear. Something brittle and raw.
He ran a hand through his hair. "You can’t do that to me."
"I-" You looked down, your voice barely above a whisper. This was your chance to explain, to try and take the sting from the wound "I chose to risk your anger to please you."
His eyes sharpened. "How could you think this sort of immature nonsense would please me? You think I like being upset with you?"
"No. But I thought... maybe you’d like being surprised. That you’d like that I tried. That it came from me- that I did something more then just… buy… Thor I didn’t mean for this to be like this."
He was quiet for a moment, the weight of your words settling thickly in the air between you.
Then, finally, his gaze dropped to the box. "Show me."
You reached for it with quiet hands, no ceremony. No teasing. Your fingers trembled slightly as you untied the ribbon; gold and satiny, knotted tightly in your own anticipation and lifted the lid like you were unwrapping something fragile and holy.
Inside, nestled in crisp white tissue, lay red lace and sheer gold mesh. Delicate straps intertwined like veins, soft to the touch, intricate in design. It wasn’t ostentatious. It wasn’t meant to shock him. It was chosen to remind him, of what you were to him and what you would always give freely: yourself.
You bit your lip, voice softer than before. "How else was I to surprise you? How do you surprise a man who sees everything. Who has eyes everywhere? I just wanted to do something for you.."
Thor stepped closer. He looked down at the gift with an expression you couldn’t quite name. His hand hovered over the lingerie, fingers curling like he might think better of it. Then, finally, he let them drift forward to brush the edge of the lace. It was a small touch, but it landed like thunder in your chest.
You watched the tension in his shoulders shift, not disappear, but settle. Like a wave withdrawing, leaving the shore damp but calmer.
"It wasn’t my intent to hurt anyone," you said, that small squeak in your tone. "I didn’t mean to make everyone worry. It wasn’t meant to take this long to go collect it. I just wanted to do something good. Something that made you... feel seen."
"You could’ve just taken one of them with you. You know that."
You looked up at him, your voice firmer now. "And then what? Have one pretend they weren’t there? I won’t put them in that position, Thor. I will not have them lie to you, not even for me."
He sighed, heavy and long, like a storm breaking just past the horizon. You saw how much this whole incident had left its mark, your Thor now tired, worn, but no longer violent.
He didn’t say anything more after that. The sigh hung in the air between you like a lull in the storm, a breath before something gave way. Then he moved, slow and sure, the way a mountain might shift if it were suddenly undone by feeling. He sank to his knees before you, one large hand reaching out to gently take the box from your lap. He set it aside with care, as if even now he didn’t want to disrespect your offering, no matter how tangled it had become in its delivery.
And then he leaned forward, resting his forehead against your knees, his blonde hair falling to brush against the bare skin of your lower legs.
You froze. Not out of fear, but out of the crushing ache that gripped your chest so suddenly it almost knocked the breath from you. Your lion was kneeling. Not in accusation. Not in fury. But in something else entirely, something aching and vulnerable.
"You scared me," he murmured, voice rough with something deeper than anger.
Your hands fluttered, unsure where to go. Finally, you placed them gently on his shoulders, fingers curling into the thick fabric of his suit jacket; the fine, dark weave tailored sharp across his shoulders, carrying the weight of his authority and control even here, even now, as he knelt before you.
"I know," you whispered. "I’m sorry. I didn’t see it. I didn’t let myself think all the way through. I just wanted... to make you happy."
He turned his face slightly, enough to press his cheek against your skin.
"I have to make sure you never do that again," he said softly.
There was no threat in it. Just truth. His truth. The kind that lived in his marrow, where duty and love were inextricably tied.
You nodded. You knew there would have to be a price paid for this.
He exhaled. Pressed a kiss just above your knee. Then another.
His hands, when they slid up your thighs, were reverent. Patient. But full of purpose. He stood again with that same quiet weight, eyes locked to yours as he reached for the edge of your cardigan pushing it off your shoulders to drag it down your arms, letting it fall at his feet.
"Lie back," he murmured.
You did, shifting up into the center of the bed. Thor watched you for a beat longer, his gaze unreadable before he began to undress. He stripped off his jacket and let it fall neatly over the nearby chair, next he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, each movement deliberate and silent until he was bare from the waist up, revealing the sharp cut of his chest and the tension still coiled in his frame.
Then, without a word, he unfastened his belt and slid out of his trousers until only the black suit pants remained, his powerful frame still held in that final layer of control. He stood at the edge of the bed, eyes dragging over you like a verdict.
"You broke my rules for love," he said, low and steady, voice like velvet wrapped around steel. "You scared me for devotion. You risked yourself... for me."
He stepped forward, hand sliding up your calf, thumb brushing your skin in soft, measured strokes. "That kind of loyalty," he murmured, "is as dangerous as it is beautiful."
Then his eyes locked to yours again, all warmth edged in iron. "I need for you to understand what you’ve done..even if it was for me."
"I know.."
There were prices to things now, a lesson you still were learning and thankfully your lion had kinder ways of teaching them to you then you'd ever imagined as Thor joined you on the bed.
He undressed you with care, each movement deliberate. He didn’t tear or rush. He peeled each layer from your skin like he was unwrapping something sacred, his hands lingering on your skin long after the fabric had been discarded. His palms ran reverently over your curves, warm and grounding, smoothing up your sides, brushing across your breasts until you arched into him without even thinking.
When he touched you, it was with hunger restrained by control. Every kiss down your chest, over your ribs, across your belly was slow and deliberate, not to tease, but to memorise. You felt it in the way he breathed you in, the soft drag of his nose against your skin, the hum deep in his throat like he was calming a storm inside himself. Like he needed to re-centre, and your body was the only map back.
His mouth found your pulse point and stayed there, lips warm and open, just for a moment. You felt the low murmur of his voice more than you heard it:
"You are mine to protect, not to lose."
When he finally pushed into you, it was with a depth that made your back arch and your fingers claw at the sheets..
not from pain, but from the sheer weight of him, the overwhelming stretch, the intoxicating press of his body fitting perfectly against yours.
He slid in with slow, determined precision, his chest grazing yours as he settled deep, a groan rumbling through him that you felt all the way down to your toes. You could feel every ridge of muscle, every tremble of restraint under his skin, his mouth capturing yours in a breathless kiss as if he needed to claim you in every possible way.
You felt so small beneath him, stretched and taken and full in every sense of him, of guilt, of raw relief, of something that tightened your throat and blurred your thoughts until only sensation remained.
Thor’s hips stilled, his weight heavy and grounding atop you.
“Thor..” You swore you could feel his heart pounding through his chest, syncing with your own.
He didn’t thrust, not at first. He stayed there, buried deep, as if trying to memorize the shape of your body wrapped around him.
"You’re so beautiful like this," he murmured against your lips. "Soft... warm... mine." Then he began to move, rocking into you with slow, devastating rhythm, every motion firm but restrained. Like a man reclaiming territory he feared he’d lost. Like he needed to take back the moment you were gone, prove to himself that you were here, alive, safe, his.
You whimpered beneath him, the words torn from your throat with every slow thrust. "Thor... more. Please... more."
He kissed the corner of your mouth, his lips soft but his voice unyielding.
"Shhh Mouse. You’ll take what I give you. Nothing more. Not tonight. Tonight, you move when I move. You come when I say. You let me do this my way. Do you understand?"
You nodded, eyes wide and glossy. "Yes... yes, I understand."
"Good girl," he praised, mouth dragging down your jaw as he began to move again, slow but deeper now, the angle just enough to make your whole body shudder. "You gave me a gift... but this..." another thrust, this one firmer, more deliberate, "...this is mine."
He kissed you fiercely as he moved, his hand sliding beneath your thigh to hook it over his hip, deepening the angle until he was grinding into the spot that made you cry out. Thor moaned into your mouth, low and wrecked, his forehead pressed against yours.
"You feel like heaven," he whispered. "You always have.". He filled you so completely that it shattered the air from your lungs each time he went to his hilt.
You clung to him, your hands gripping the broad planes of his back, fingers flexing against sweat-damp skin as your hips rose to meet each careful thrust. He was everywhere, his body, his scent, his breath….the way he moved inside you was measured, possessive, devastating.
“..god..uh”
The heat of his body enveloped you, each movement slow but ruinous, like waves dragging you deeper into him with no hope of finding air. Thor groaned low against your neck as your bodies aligned again and again, his thrusts deepening just slightly each time, building something unbearable. The sheer force he could have unleashed simmered beneath the surface, leashed only by the tenderness he reserved for you.
He pinned your wrists above your head, not with aggression, but with a steady, anchoring strength that made you arch beneath him. His thumbs rubbed slow circles into your pulse points, a silent reassurance that you were his to hold, not to hurt. The warmth of his grip binding you in place like his hold was the only thing tethering you to this moment, this reality.
He didn’t let you come.
Each time your body began to rise, to crest with trembling need, he pulled you back, slowing his thrusts to a near stop, grinding in deep until all you could do was whine.
“Ugh… Tho-please.”
“No.” His breath hot and uneven, his voice fraying at the edges. “Soon.” His mouth was everywhere: your shoulder, your collarbone, the underside of your jaw, the sensitive dip below your ear. He called you his mouse, his heart, his precious gift. He whispered how soft you were, how beautiful, how good you were for him, how lucky he was to still have you beneath him.
"I need this," he told you between kisses. "Need to feel that you're safe. That you're mine. That you trust me to take care of you. Even now. Especially now."
"Thor.." You whimpered his name, pleaded for more, but he only kissed you deeper. He kissed you like a man starving, like you were something sacred he hadn’t quite earned back yet. His mouth moved with desperate grace, licking into yours, groaning when your lips parted to let him taste you deeper. When your thighs began to shake, when your moans dissolved into breathless sobs, he still held the line; edging you again and again, until your body trembled violently, until tears slipped from your eyes from the unbearable, exquisite tension of it all. You were delirious with need, every nerve lit and straining for release.
“Please….”
You were undone beneath him, aching with the need to fall, the tension in your body coiling tighter with every heartbeat. You were trembling, hips tilting up in helpless offering, every nerve in your skin lit with anticipation. Your body screamed for release, but he held you at the edge with devastating control.
"Not yet," he murmured, his voice rough velvet as his thumb traced over the place where your pulse pounded in your thigh. "You wait. You wait until you promise me."
"Promise?" you managed, the words catching in your throat, cracked and desperate.
His hand gripped your thigh tighter, the low thunder of a growl vibrating from his chest to your skin, grounding you in place. The muscles in his shoulders tensed, the strength of him like iron caging you in.
"Promise me you will never vanish on me again. Not like that. Not for surprise or sentiment or love. Not for anything. I need to know you're safe. I need to know you’ll come to me."
You nodded, frantic, thighs shaking, your whole body crying for relief.
"Say it."
"I promise," you gasped, your voice cracking under the weight of emotion and need. "I promise, I’m sorry, I promise- I won't, I won’t ever- "
Only then did he move with true purpose, with every ounce of restraint burned away in the wake of your promise. His hips drew back slow, deliberate…just long enough for you to feel the aching emptiness…before he drove forward again, hard and deep, with a power that sent your spine bowing and your cry splitting the air.
The shock of fullness shattered through you like a lightning strike, raw and blinding, setting your nerves alight in a blaze of sensation.
"Auh." You gasped, thighs twitching, hands flying to his biceps as your body seized beneath the force of it.
"Yes - gruh.. " Thor groaned..no, growled…a wrecked, primal sound torn from somewhere deep in his chest, animal and holly all at once. His fingers locked over your hips, anchoring you as his body surged into yours again, harder now, like he needed to chase the sound of your sobs. You felt the ripple of his strength in every thrust, each one brutal with need and yet never careless.
"Uh- ahh- God- ”
You bowed under him, helpless, pliant, your body bending and breaking around him, made soft by pleasure, made liquid by the way he filled you so completely. Your legs shook, your head thrown back as the storm built fast, dragging you under with every devastating stroke. You were his.
Undone. Shaking. Barely clinging to sense..
Thor was claiming you, body and soul, over and over again.
"UH!"
Your orgasm tore through you with a shattering force, brutal and breathless, crashing over you in wave after unrelenting wave. Your spine bowed, hips arching desperately into his as the heat crested, as the pressure broke, your vision blurred with stars and your voice cracked open around his name. You sobbed it like a prayer, like a confession, fingers digging into the slick heat of his back, nails scoring him as if to anchor yourself to the only thing that felt real.
Thor followed you into that storm with a roar..
"Nnnn- grh- fuck- " his rhythm faltering as his control finally snapped. He drove into you one final time, deep and claiming, his whole body trembling with the force of his own release.
You felt the moment it overtook him.
His chest locked tight to yours, the sharp snarl in your ear as he gripped the bed beside your head, the tendons in his arms straining. Then the sudden, feral press of his hips, pulsing deep inside you as he came in hot, harsh bursts, his seed spilling into you with such raw intensity it left you gasping.
You felt the twitch and flood of him, the way his body bowed over yours as he emptied himself, groaning your name like it was the only thing tethering him to the world. Thor didn't pull away, just clutched you tighter, still inside, still connected, breath ragged against your throat like he was praying it was enough. Like if he stayed here, buried this deep, you could never disappear again.
After, you were wrapped in him. Limbs tangled, heart slowed, breath shared. The room smelled of pine and smoke from the fire and sweat from you both. The soft flicker of the garland lights on the mantle still shimmered…a reminder of your intention, not your mistake.
He kissed your temple. Brushed your hair back. Watched you like you were still capable of disappearing.
“Next time you want to surprise me,” he said softly, voice rough but tender, “you ask. Understand?” He let the words settle for a beat before continuing, his fingers stroking idly along your back. “I know asking defeats the purpose of a surprise... but I don’t need to know what it is, only that you’re safe enacting it. We can work together- build something, a protocol or a framework- that lets you move how you wish, without risking your safety. Because that, Mouse, that is not something I will ever compromise on.”
His hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, thumb brushing your skin. “You are the most important thing to me. But I never want to dim your joy either. I applaud the choice you made, wanting to take up the mantle of being mine. Let me find the way to honor that- without ever fearing I might lose you in the process.”
You nodded against his chest, your fingers gently combing back the damp strands of golden hair from his face. He hummed quietly, a soft sound of contentment as he shifted closer, his hand splayed wide across your back.
You kissed the underside of his jaw, feeling the rough scrape of his beard, and he returned the gesture with a brush of his lips to your temple. The room was warm around you, but it was his body that truly anchored you, his breath steady against your cheek, his arms firm around your waist.
Fingers trailing over his chest, you whispered, "I won’t let you lose me."
Thor stilled, the breath in his lungs hitching faintly. His arms tightened around you just a little, forehead lowering to yours.
"Say it again," he murmured, voice low and reverent.
"You won’t lose me," you repeated, firmer now. "Not ever."
His thumb brushed over your spine, and he exhaled slowly. "Good. Then we will make this work. Together."
Warnings: smutttt also I like know nothing about norse mythology so im just making shit up since you all will not shut up about rut and omegaverse this will feature some themes of Thor in rut
Yn was a minor goddess. Had the powers the looks but Odin didn't truly see as a true goddess. Thor over the years had become smitten with the little goddess. His rut was fast approaching. His rut hit harder than normal. She had come to the palace to talk to Freya about something and Thor caught her as she was leaving. He grabbed her arm gently.
"Yn can I uh can I ask you a favor?" He asked nervously. She looked up at him and the smell hit her, her cheeks went bright red.
"Uh sure." She stuttered out. Thor picked her up and carried her to his bed chambers. She knew exactly what he wanted or well needed and she was gonna let him take it she knew how gods could get in rut and Thor being the god of thunder could easily ruin many lives.
"I will be gentle." He said setting her down and gently bending her over his bed. He pushed up her dress as he un did his armor with his other hand. She held onto the sheets for dear life as his large cock slipped into her. He rolled his hips slowly as to not hurt her. He hit every nook and cranny inside her. Her face was buried in the sheets as she moaned. She felt his knot smelling locking them together. Her body shook as she came hard on him. He spilled inside her as his knot kept them locked together. He gently picked her up and laid down with her in his bed his body was warm against her back.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Minors DNI, Oral (Male!Receiving)
Word Count: 782 words
A/N: Wanksgiving - Oral (Male!Receiving) last one!!!
The great hall was a blur of laughter, clinking goblets, and music that swelled high against the golden arches of Asgard's palace. Plates overflowed with roasted meats and honeyed root vegetables, tankards brimming with mead passed from hand to hand. Odin sat at the head of the long table, Frigga radiant at his side, and beside them, Thor ‘the golden son’, the victorious warrior, the future king.
Your King
He looked resplendent tonight.
Not just because of the feast or the glory still clinging to his skin like the scent of battle. No, Thor always seemed to gleam from within. Confidence, pride, power, he wore it all like armor. And you couldn’t take your eyes off him.
But your hunger wasn’t for the roast boar.
You leaned closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you murmured, "You look every part the god tonight."
Thor turned slightly toward you, a smile curving slow across his lips. "I am a god, darling."
"Mmm," you whispered, hand resting on his thigh under the table, fingers tracing up toward the top of his leather breeches, "Then let me worship."
His hand closed over yours immediately, strong and grounding. "Not here."
You tilted your head, gaze coy, teasing. "Then find us somewhere. Or do you want me to beg beneath the table like a desperate maiden?"
That got him moving.
Within minutes, you were being tugged through one of the side corridors off the hall, deeper into the quieter shadows of the palace. He found an alcove; private, enclosed with heavy velvet drapes drawn half-closed. He backed you into it, his mouth brushing yours in a slow, claiming kiss that only broke when he was breathless.
But this wasn’t about kisses.
You pushed him down onto the cushioned bench, sank to your knees between his parted legs with a reverence only he could earn. The scent of feasting still clung to him, mead and smoke and that distinct masculine spice that was all Thor.
"You fought well today," you murmured, undoing the laces of his breeches with a practiced hand, pulling him free.
He was already hard.
"And I heard the crowd cheering, the warriors return" you added, wrapping your hand around the thick base of him, giving a slow, twisting stroke that made him hiss. "But I want to hear you now."
You licked the crown, soft and slow, letting your tongue swirl over the head, teasing the slit until it beaded with fresh salt. The heat of him was dizzying, pulsing in your palm as he twitched in your grip. His hips gave a subtle buck, instinct chasing pleasure, and you smiled against him.
Thor was so rarely quiet.
But now? Now he grunted deep in his chest, a sound like thunder still distant on the horizon. One hand braced against the stone wall behind him, knuckles white, the other buried in your hair, thick fingers flexing with every pass of your tongue. You gave him long, worshipful licks from base to tip, then sucked him in slow, deep, filthy. Wet sounds echoed in the alcove, your spit messy on your chin as you took him in again and again, not caring how wrecked you looked.
"By the Nine- " he growled, his voice ragged, watching you with eyes gone dark and feral. "You are... insatiable. Greedy thing."
You moaned around him, taking him deeper, throat flexing, your hands wrapped tight around the base as you moved in sync, determined and unrelenting. His thighs tensed beneath your touch, powerful and trembling now. His hips began to roll..just slightly..matching your rhythm.
"That’s it," he muttered hoarsely, head falling back for a moment as his chest rose in a shuddering breath. "Take your king like you were meant to. Open and grateful."
The praise hit you like lightning. You hollowed your cheeks, sucked harder, used your hand to twist and stroke what your mouth couldn’t hold. Every time you drew back and let him fall from your lips with a wet pop, you licked back down to his base, lavishing him with the kind of adoration usually reserved for sacred relics.
Thor groaned loudly now, breath catching, hips jerking despite himself. "I can see it on your face," he panted, his fingers tugging sharply at your hair, pulling you back just long enough to see the slick mess coating your lips, the glazed hunger in your eyes. "You love this. Worshipping like it’s the only thing that matters."
You dove back down, taking him fast and deep, humming in agreement as he cursed, his voice fractured and helpless.
Let the feast rage on.
This? This was the kind of thanks you preferred to give.
A/n: This is entirely self indulgence! I love black metal and I think what marvel character would be most likely to be in a black metal band? Obviously it’s Thor! This AU will take place in Norway and I know Thor isn’t Norwegian but black metal was huge in Norway in the 80s-90s, and I’m a huge nerd for music history. Obviously there will be some inaccuracies cause I’ve never been to Norway and I was not around in the 80s/90s. But this is just fiction and I hope you will still enjoy it! The title of the AU is a song by Darkthrone which is really good and one of my favorite songs ever so definitely listen to it! Is recommend listening to black metal in general (except Mayhem they’re not that good compared to the much better ones and if you do listen to them only listen to their first EP it’s the only good one). Please feel free to send in headcannons and thoughts!!!
Pairings: Black metal frontman!Thor Odinson x Reader
Warnings: smut, inaccuracies, mentions of fascist view points (I will not shy away from the fact the 90s black metal scene had Nazi assholes. Thor and none of his band members are though so don’t worry), generally no plot just vibes, mentions of suicide and self harm, drugs, and that’s pretty much it.
Summary: Going to a local show, you become well acquainted with the 6’4 godlike frontman. the two of you form a friendship, and then some.
This is my headcanon. I think Thor lost his hammer one time for having wild kinky sex. Like having fucking on a feast table in front of his friend. You are a neighborhood princess who came to make a peace treaty with Asgard. You tried to cover your mouth because its bad enough his hot friends are stroking their cocks infront of your pretty fucked up face. It really not too bad. You actually enjoy it, but you won't admit it. Too bad Thor, have your arms pin up as his dick is stretching you out to the max. You can't help but scream out his name. There no doubt in hell the whole kingdom hear you being a slut. You were about to scream his name again until Loki suddenly put his dick into your mouth. "Dear brother, can you at least be quiet while you making the princess being your slut?" Loki ask thrusting his dick in out of your mouth.
"My bad brother." Thor chuckled.
They fuck you what for like hours. When Oden and your father finally found you, you are not looking like a proper princess. You looked pure fucked out your mind. Yeah, your dad and Oden didn't like that one bit. Thor became unworthy of his hammer for a year.
