#dark!thor

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You stumbled over a tree root you'd manage to miss in the darkness, but it didn't deter your determination to get as far away as you could. In the back of your mind you knew that there was no realistic way to get out of your predicament, but the desperation and self preservation inside of you wouldn't let you admit defeat. 

You had to try. 

Sweat coated your skin, evidence of just how much you'd pushed yourself the moment you realized the danger you found yourself in. It was insane to think that only some five hours ago you were relaxed and surrounded by who you thought were friends, feeling comfortable and protected with people you'd known for years. Now, you were running for your life from those same people. 

You should have known that something was wrong from the moment you'd stepped inside of the cabin. 

“What time is Nat getting here?” 

That was one of the first questions out of your mouth as you'd sat your things down. Steve was the one to answer you, and looking back, you should've paid more attention to the slight pause before he gave you a response. 

“She's not,” he'd said, turning to you with a sheepish look and a shrug. “Said she was going to wait it out at home this year”. 

You recalled the way you'd frowned, finding it odd that Nat wasn't coming. Since the first year it was put into place, all of you always holed up during the Purge together in some fancy backwoods cabin Bucky owned. Your disappointment must have been obvious because Steve had reached out, playfully flicking your chin. 

“Hey, you still have us,” he'd told you with a small smirk. “It'll still be fun.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

You'd fought to keep your tone even, but you had been disappointed, and it wasn't just because of Nat. The day before Bucky had told you that Wanda wasn't coming either and a few days before that Tony made the sudden decision to stay in one of his many expensive buildings with Pepper. It wasn't like you hated that it was just going to be you and the guys, but naturally you loved being around your girlfriends. 

“Cheer up, Lady Y/N,” Thor had said when he got a good look at your face. “I have brought you your favorite movies at your request, and we will watch them as many times as you'd like.”

The blonde's infectious demeanor and determination to make you smile had relaxed you, forcing you to brush off any reservations you'd started to have. Looking back, you wondered if that was planned too—for Thor to be the one to lessen your unease because naturally he would. He was Thor, and you didn't think he had one sadistic bone in his body. 

When your shirt got caught on a branch, it took everything in you not to cry out as the sharp piece of wood broke skin. The saltiness of your sweat hit your tongue as you pulled your lip between your teeth, blinking back tears as you renewed your hurried steps. Your vision was starting to sway a bit, and you knew that you were pushing yourself too much but the alternative end to this night wouldn't allow you to stop. 

You could both feel your heartbeat in your throat and hear it in your ears. That observation only served to remind you that they no doubt could as well even from far away, and you fought the urge to cry again as the trajectory of this night once again felt inevitable. How were you supposed to keep out of reach of two super soldiers and a literal god in the middle of the Purge? Where would you go? Who would even help you if you happened to stumble upon someone else out here? What would you tell them? That the friends you'd had for years and who you'd holed yourself up in a cabin with were chasing you down to do God knows what? 

You didn't even know what they wanted with you. 

In fact, for hours you'd been none the wiser to the danger you were in, oblivious as ever as you and Thor attempted to make Wanda's signature dish. You both were very bad at it, laughing at the mess you were making while Bucky and Steve were getting fire wood. Finally admitting defeat, you'd decided to go ahead and hop in the shower, opting to just go and get ready to call it a night. 

You could hear Bucky downstairs talking with Thor when you got out, glancing at the clock in the hallway and noting you had about 4 more hours until the Purge commenced. Any other year and you would've been glued to Nat’s hip, but seeing as you found yourself a tad more alone this year, you instead decided to lay down for a bit. The drive up to the cabin was no joke and as much as you'd always been encouraged to every year, you never could relax enough to just sleep through it. 

“You're in a house full of a couple of assassins and some of the most dangerous people on the planet,” Nat would say to you. “What would we possibly let happen to you?”

She was right of course, but even still your body would never just let you sleep through it, and this year was even more nerve wracking without her by your side. You found yourself in and out of sleep for what felt like ages but in reality it was only about two hours. Occasionally you'd wake up to the sound of Thor’s voice asking you if you wanted or needed anything but you'd continuously give him a grumbled ‘no’ before going back to sleep. 

It was in those throes of sleep that you heard it. 

Steve’s voice was so recognizable and clear, but his words were so off putting that you immediately thought you must be dreaming. You were convinced that you were dreaming because your body still felt too heavy to be awake. 

“No, she's asleep,” you heard him say, his voice carrying ever so softly from the hallway. “Why would we be? We only have a couple of more hours.” 

There were a few beats of silence before his voice carried again. 

“Well, you can just never be too safe. Anything done during the Purge is legal,” he softly laughed to himself. “Why chance it?” 

His words created a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you weren't able to place why until a few moments later. 

“Bucky took care of her starter,” he said, making your heart sink. “She won't be going anywhere.” 

His words were so vivid in your mind even when you did eventually wake up, and while you were sure your mind had conjured them up, something deep down in your gut wouldn't let you be convinced. You had sat in your room for a while just playing it over in your head and repeatedly telling yourself it was just a dream no matter how much something said otherwise. 

Your jumbled thoughts must have been evident because Bucky asked you if you were alright when you eventually made it downstairs. 

“Yeah,” you'd told him after a while, shaking your head. “Just slept weird, I think.”

The dark-haired man had looked at you for what felt like too long before humming to himself. 

“You want something to eat? I know you and Thor’s attempt at dinner didn't turn out too well,” he'd chuckled. 

His light demeanor made your shoulders relax a bit, and you knew he noticed by the way those blue eyes of his shifted. 

“Yeah I might as well,” you'd sighed, moving to sit on the couch. “I won't be able to do much else for a while.” 

The brunette only threw you a smile before getting up, and you’d flipped through the DVDs Thor brought. As nice as the cabin was, at the end of the day it was still just a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and while the lack of internet never bothered you before, it was glaringly obvious this year without Nat or Wanda to keep you busy.

Among other reasons.

You’d found your thoughts drifting as you stared at the DVD in your hand, eventually convincing yourself that you were losing it. Of course, it had been a dream. Even if it wasn’t a dream, what could you possibly think it meant? Bucky had broken your car and Steve was talking to someone about their plot to what? Kill you? It was almost laughable, and you’d shaken your head.

You’d finally chosen a movie to put on just as Bucky finished up in the kitchen, the sound of the opening door reaching your ears as Thor and Steve brought in more firewood.

The smell of said firewood still clung to your clothes and hair as your gaze roamed along the dark trees in front of you. You needed to make sure you weren’t just mindlessly running in circles, but you also didn’t have the luxury of stopping and assessing where you were. You held your hand to your bleeding shoulder as leaves crunched beneath your feet. You were out of breath and so tired and so…confused, but most of all you were scared.

The thought that that phone call you heard was real was one that almost paralyzed you with fear. It seemed too insane—too sick—to be true, and yet you found yourself running in the middle of nowhere during the height of the Purge in the hopes that you would last the night. You hadn’t wanted to believe it, but the short phone call from Nat that managed to get through still made your head spin.

“I’m surprised I even managed to get a signal,” you’d told her hours earlier with a smile, stepping out onto the back patio. “The service out here is almost the same as the lack of wifi.”

“Out where? The cabin?” she’d asked, and her genuine confusion had made you frown.

“Uh, yeah,” you mockingly told her. “You know, the one you decided not to come to this year.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Bucky said he didn’t think they were going up there this year.”

The redhead’s words only made your frown deepen, that sinking feeling returning to your chest.

“The asshole didn’t tell me he’d changed his mind,” and you could almost see her rolling her eyes on the other side of the line. “It’s so boring waiting this out without my partner in crime.”

She was chuckling to herself, but you had fallen quiet. You’d stared at the woods behind the cabin, going over both her words and what Steve had told you. You gently shook your head, telling yourself that there must have been some miscommunication. In fact, you were just about to bring up Steve’s contradicting words when you turned around…and froze.

The man in question was just on the other side of the sliding glass door, an unreadable expression on his face and two mugs in his hands. There was a brief moment where you both just stared at each other, and then suddenly a small smile graced Steve’s lips as he held the mugs up, brows lifting.

“Yeah, I guess he did,” you slowly replied, distracted. “I’ll call you back later once we’re locked in and settled.”

You and Nat said goodbye, and you swallowed as you reached out to open the door.

“What did Nat want?”

The blond didn’t even try to pretend like he didn’t hear who was on the phone, and so you knew that he heard exactly what was said.

“Just checking in,” you told him, grabbing a mug of hot chocolate. “She misses me.”

You looked at him as you said that, and Steve only shrugged.

“Well, no one told her to stay home this year,” he said to you, bumping his arm against yours as you walked inside.

You only smiled at him, desperately trying to get your thoughts together. 

Was it possible there was just some innocent miscommunication? Maybe Bucky hadn’t relayed it to Nat that he’d decided to come back up here, after all and maybe Steve thought her absence was because she just wanted to stay home this year, not knowing she was under the impression no one was coming to the cabin. It was plausible, and the simplest answers were often the truth, but…

That phone call.

It had to have been a dream because the alternative was too terrifying to think about. Steve was your friend. Bucky was your friend. Thor was your friend. They were friends that you’d known and worked with for years, and the idea that you were alone with them up here for less than genuine reasons was making your stomach twist into knots. You knew that you were scaring yourself, and you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

You forced yourself to ask yourself a few questions, wondering what the reason would even be? They weren’t homicidal violent men or anything like that, and you’d never once felt unsafe with them. In fact, it was always the opposite, so what would the reason even be? Why would they orchestrate this whole thing that left you alone up here with them…during the Purge?

You’d told yourself that you were losing it, and after some time you’d offered to take everyone’s empty mugs to the sink. You could hear them having some debate about some game a month back as you did, placing the empty dishes into the sink. Your hands found the counter, and your eyes met your reflection in the kitchen window. You acknowledged that you were making yourself paranoid, but you couldn’t stop.

You were normally such a rational person, and everything about your train of thought was irrational, but yet you could not let it go. It made zero sense because they weren’t even sort of like the kind of guys who would hurt you—or any woman—but something kept nagging at you in the back of your mind. Something inside of you refused to let you relax.

As Thor’s loud laugh reached your ears, your gaze drifted to Steve’s phone on the counter. The blond—still refusing to grasp technology to the fullest degree—never kept a passcode on it, and your hand was moving without a second thought. They were still talking as you looked at Steve’s call history, searching for something that would ease your worries, but you only got the opposite.

Tony was the last person Steve talked to, and while that wasn’t cause for any kind of suspicion, you did notice that the call was taken when you were asleep—or at least in and out of sleep. You placed it back on the counter as if it were on fire, staring at it with wide eyes and telling yourself that it didn’t mean anything. 

A coincidence.

You told yourself it was a coincidence, but you didn’t feel convinced.

“Hey, I’m kind of cold,” you loudly said, making your way to the key hook. “I’m grabbing my scarf from the car.”

It wasn’t a lie. You were indeed still a little nippy, and your scarf was still in your car, but your brain wouldn’t let this go. You kept coming up with more scenarios to prove yourself wrong and ease your worries, and you didn’t know why. You were outside before any of them replied, and you did just as you said, unlocking the vehicle and grabbing your scarf.

However, before you could talk yourself out of it, you were sitting in the driver’s seat and your key was in your ignition and you were turning it. You turned it twice. Then a third time, and a fourth time, and each time…it wouldn’t start.

It was quiet outside aside from the odd sound of an owl or two as you just stared at your dashboard. You could see your breath as you exhaled, telling yourself all kinds of excuses for what you were experiencing. It was cold and maybe it just needed a minute, but even after trying it again after a few minutes, there was no such luck. You swallowed, turning the key again, and you felt like you were having an out of body experience as it just wouldn’t start.

“What are you doing, doll?”

The scream you let out scared you more than Bucky’s sudden presence, and you dropped your keys to the floor of the car. You pressed your hand to your chest as you turned to look at him, unsure of how long he’d been standing there. You blinked a few times as you stared at him, heart threatening to beat out of your chest and lips parted.

Bucky was standing in the gap between your door and your car, one hand on the top of the door frame, the other at his side. The cold breeze ruffled his dark hair, and the moonlight glinted off of his blue eyes as he stared at you. It took you too long to remember he’d asked you a question, and you quickly came up with an answer.

“I wanted to see how much gas I have left in my car, but… It won’t start,” you softly said, still fighting to catch your breath. “I thought…I thought maybe the cold had something to do with the engine, but it’s just not starting.”

Bucky didn’t respond right away, and when he hummed, a shiver crawled up your spine.

“I’ll look at it in the morning. Me or Steve one,” he said, offering his hand to you.

Nodding, you quickly grabbed your scarf and your keys, placing your free hand in his flesh one. Bucky closed your car door for you, and you thanked him when he took your scarf and put it around your neck.

“Just trying to keep you warm,” he said to you, rubbing your shoulders. “We don’t want you to freeze to death.”

You forced a chuckle at that, and Bucky joined you as you both stepped inside. Steve was just inside the door when you stepped through, and you watched him look between you two.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, her car won’t start,” Bucky answered for you.

The blond eyed you, a slight frown forming.

“Why were you trying to start your car?”

You told yourself that you were imagining his tone.

“I wanted to see how much gas I have left to get back home tomorrow…”

You shrugged at him, and Steve only nodded.

“Bucky or I will check it out in the morning,” he said, basically repeating Bucky’s words as he guided you back to the living room.

You sat on the couch as another conversation started up around you, and you chimed in here and there, but your mind was miles away. 

You told yourself that the car was a coincidence, but how many coincidences were allowed before you started putting pieces together that painted a sick picture? 

Steve said that Nat chose not to come this year, but Nat said Bucky told her they weren’t coming up to the cabin for the Purge this year. You were so sure that phone call was a dream, but Steve’s call history showed he’d absolutely been on the phone with someone and that someone was Tony…who also chose to sit at home with Pepper this year. It was that same phone call where Steve said Bucky had messed with your car…

Your car that wouldn’t start.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

Thor’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and when you looked around you saw all three of them looking at you in concern. You only just realized that your heart was going crazy in your chest, and they could no doubt hear it. Their worried expressions were almost enough to have you rethinking this entire night, and you blinked back tears.

Bucky was the first to move.

“Hey, hey,” he gently said to you, placing a hand on your back. “What’s wrong, doll?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, placing a hand on your forehead.

“I think, um, I think…” you struggled to speak. “I don’t feel good. My head is all…”

You flailed your hands around your face.

“I don’t know, I just don’t feel good.”

“You want to take something?” Steve asked you, and you shook your head.

“No, I…” you heavily exhaled. “I just feel like I might be sick.”

Your voice cracked, and Bucky helped you stand.

“I just need some air.”

All of you were standing now, and Thor offered to go with you.

“No, I’ll just be a minute,” you hurried to tell him, placing your fingers to your temple. “I just need some air.”

You were stumbling towards the door before you were finished speaking, and you took deep breaths as soon as you were on the other side of it. The cold fresh air was definitely helping you clear your head, and you leaned back against it with your eyes closed. You thought that this would help you think more rationally, now…but it wasn’t working.

Everything you’d added up was going through your head over and over again. 

They wouldn’t. You told yourself that they wouldn’t, but what if they would? 

You recalled that one Christmas party that involved some Asgardian meade and a bold move from Thor that resulted in you having to let him down easily. The next morning he claimed to not have remembered a thing, but what if he did? What if something you’d written off as a drunken blunder was actually much more than that?

Like the time you and Bucky were undercover, and you swore he was getting a little too lost in the role but he assured you of otherwise? When you thought about the aggressive way he kissed you even now, it still sent chills down your spine, but he’d convinced you that it was nothing, that he was just trying to be convincing, and you’d believed him.

…and it was only a few months ago that Steve—under no influence of anything and under no false pretenses of a cover for some mission—had asked you out, and you’d told him no. It wasn’t because he wasn't a great guy or because he wasn’t handsome enough, but the two of you had been friends for so long that the thought of ruining that was something you couldn’t bear, and that was what you’d told him.

He seemed to believe you, but sometimes you still thought about that hint of something you swore you saw in his gaze. It had come and gone so quickly, and even now you still didn’t know if you imagined it or not, but it had scared you for a split second…and then it was gone and he was smiling, and you were just happy you hadn’t lost a friend.

Every single incident was at the forefront of your mind, now, and it was too many coincidences to keep you calm. You repeatedly told yourself that they wouldn’t hurt you—especially not over something as trivial as that—but you weren’t able to convince yourself. Every single nerve in your body was telling you something wasn’t right, and your internal conflict was driving you crazy. You told yourself they would never hurt you, and you wanted to be right. You wanted to be right so bad.

…but what if you were wrong?

You were unable to sit with your thoughts, and you didn’t know what part of you to listen to.

So…

You ran.

You hadn’t even been running for long when you heard your name being screamed through the trees, and it only made you run faster. There was some small part of you that told you you were being paranoid. After all, you were terrified and running based off of assumptions you came up with on your own, but a much larger part of you was telling you to run faster. A louder voice was in your head telling you that you were in danger.

Every time you faintly heard your voice traveling through the trees it only scared you more, making more tears fall at the predicament you were in. It didn’t seem real, and you wanted to believe it wasn’t happening, but nothing else made sense. The Purge had already commenced, even out here in the middle of the trees you knew that, and you were terrified of what would happen to you if you failed to make it through the night on your own.

But what if it was all in your head? What if you’d driven yourself crazy and took off in the middle of nowhere over nothing? What would you say to them tomorrow? How would you explain yourself? What if they were chasing after you because you took off like a crazy person and they were worried? 

A sob caught in your chest because you didn’t know what to believe, and you genuinely felt like you were losing your mind. Your tears were blurring your vision, and you felt like you couldn’t suck in air fast enough. When your foot caught on a rock, it sent you falling to the ground, and your forehead bounced off of the hard earth. Your already questionable vision was now slanted as you fought to push yourself to your feet, and you looked around, relieved that you were still alone.

You felt like you were on the verge of passing out when you stumbled into familiar arms.

The scream that escaped you echoed throughout the woods, bouncing off of trees and making you flinch. Thor’s hands were firm on your arms as you fought to get away from him, pushing at him and hitting his chest as he tried to calm you down. You were inconsolable as your back met a tree, and you struggled to speak.

“Please, don’t kill me,” you choked out. “Please…”

The blond frowned at you, and you shook your head.

“I don’t… I didn’t…” you couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry.”

Thor only frowned at you as he looked over your face, one of his hands reaching up to gently touch your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you breathlessly repeated. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings or made you think…”

Your words died in the air again as you struggled to catch your breath, and the gentle touch of Thor’s hand on your face and the way he was looking at you was a lot more calming than you wanted to admit. The blond seemed genuinely confused by your words and your demeanor, pressing his lips together as he ran his eyes over you.

“Is that what you think?” he gently asked you, and you swallowed. “Is that why you ran?”

Your silence was answer enough, and you watched him gently laugh to himself.

“You thought we were going to kill you?”

His question accompanied by his expression made you feel stupid all of a sudden, and you looked away just as Thor laughed again. He was careful in pulling you away from the tree, holding you next to him as he started to walk back in the direction of the cabin. He guided your head to lean against him, and you briefly closed your eyes, taking deep even breaths and feeling…insane.

“Why did you think we were going to kill you?” he softly wondered, and you couldn’t ignore that he was talking to you like some wounded animal.

“It’s…stupid,” you managed to whisper, not even wanting to say it all out loud now that Thor had managed to ease your fears. “I feel like an idiot.”

Thor rubbed your shoulder, and the sound of footsteps other than both of yours reached your ears.

“Is she okay?” you heard Steve ask, the blond closer to you than Bucky, a deep frown on his features.

“I’m fine,” you said the same time Thor told him you were fine. “I got too in my own head and...I don’t know, I just drove myself crazy.”

“She thought we were going to kill her.”

You felt even more embarrassed when Thor said it aloud again to them, and you started to frown at him when you were all too aware of his grip on the hair at the nape of your neck. Your frown deepened, wincing in pain as you reached back just as he leaned over.

“I do not know what gave her that idea,” Thor said seemingly to no one in particular just as he covered your lips with his own. 

The kiss took you by surprise, and you pushed at his chest as he stepped closer, forcing you to stumble back. Your back met a tree for the second time that night, and you were unable to speak as Thor moved his mouth against yours. Your brain felt even more jumbled than it did earlier in the night, confusion pouring into you as Thor kept you from pulling away.

Your mind had immediately jumped to murder that you had never even entertained the possibility of…something else.

When you finally managed to get away from Thor’s hold—or when he let you—you stumbled back into someone else’s waiting arms, and you yelped in a mixture of fear and shock. Bucky held both of your elbows to him as his lips found a home in the crook of your neck, tasting your sweaty skin as you struggled in his tight grip.

“Kill you?” Bucky chuckled. “Never.”

“This isn’t funny,” you told them, voice shaking. “If you’re trying to scare me because of something I did or didn’t do…”

Your eyes met Steve’s at that.

“I’m sorry–!”

You cut yourself off with a gasp, crying out at the feeling of Bucky’s teeth in your skin. Your efforts to get away from him doubled the moment Steve started to make his way closer to you. You frantically looked between him and Thor, understanding that if this was for real and they were serious, there was no getting out of this. Your heart was going crazy in your chest, and Steve confirmed that they heard it.

“Listen to how scared she is…”

“Steve, please,” you begged as he got closer and closer, and when he ignored your apologies and pleas entirely, you accepted that this was no joke. 

The blond caught your feet as you kicked at him, separating your legs and stepping between them. You were in an uncomfortable position as Bucky still held your elbows behind you. Steve’s fingers dug into your pants, and when his hands started to pull, you moved as much as you possibly could. Thor’s chuckle reached your ears as you found yourself dropped to the ground.

“I do believe she is besting you both.”

The teasing lilt to his voice made your stomach turn, and your attempt to crawl away was thwarted by hands on your ankles pulling you back. Your nails pressed into the dirt and leaves as you were dragged back, no match for the super soldier who flipped you onto your back. Every kick at Steve was futile, and tears blurred your vision again when he sat on your waist. You pushed at his hands as they reached for your sweater, the thick fabric ripping like paper at the mercy of his strength.

It seemed like no matter what you said to Steve, he didn’t hear a word of it, blue eyes locked in on his goal, and if you had any doubts about this being personal, they were gone the moment your gazes met. There was no give there, nothing in his stare even hinting that he could be talked out of this. In fact, you wouldn’t be shocked if the entire thing was his idea.

You screamed when he leaned down to take a hardened bud into his mouth, the cold air giving him exactly what he wanted.

“There’s no one around for miles, doll,” you heard Bucky say, making you cry harder. “...but by all means.”

He gestured to you as you turned to look at him through a tearful gaze.

“Scream as much as you’d like.”

You and Steve fought over your pants, the blond winning with hardly a fight, and you shook from both the cold and the turn the night had taken. To think it was only moments ago that you’d been so sure they were going to kill you. Another possibility hadn’t even been an option in your mind and why would it? What was tomorrow supposed to be like or hadn’t they thought that far ahead?

A silent conversation seemed to pass through Bucky and Steve as they briefly looked at each other, the brunette making his way over to you. Any fight you were able to give Steve was squashed the moment Bucky dropped to his knees and pinned your hands on either side of your head. You tearfully looked up at him, equal parts angry and defeated as Steve’s hand slid between your thighs.

“Uh uh,” Steve tsk’d, harshly slapping your cunt the moment you squeezed your eyes shut, making you shout. “Eyes on him, sweetheart.”

Bucky had no problem at all holding your gaze while Steve slid a finger into you, quickly followed by another. You couldn’t swallow down the gasp that climbed out of your throat, eyes widening as he curled his fingers into you. You twisted your wrists in Bucky’s grip, angrily staring at him as you fought to swallow down every sound that wanted to escape your lips.

Your toes curled as Steve fingered you, a third finger sliding into you with ease as his actions forced you to drip around his hand. Your chest was heaving with every snap of his wrist, and you attempted to turn your head away when Bucky leaned in, but he stole a kiss anyway. The dark-haired man tasted the inside of your mouth as Steve continued to stretch you out around his fingers.

The sensations from both were too much, and you desperately wanted to be anywhere but here. Bucky only let you catch your breath for a second before diving in again, and for a brief moment, you felt empty and the heat between your legs was gone. That reprieve, however, only lasted for a second, and your chest arched at the feeling of thicker fingers slowly pushing their way into you.

You let out a shaky breath, and you felt Bucky smirk into the kiss.

Thor was not as gentle as Steve, roughly fucking you with his fingers and making your hips lift off of the ground. You were dripping around him, you could feel it, and the sound of his thick fingers pushing into you reached your ears, so you could only imagine what they could hear. The humiliation of it all warmed your cold frame, and you blinked back tears when Bucky finally pulled away.

You stared at him, but his blue eyes were focused instead on what Thor was doing to you.

You refused to look, closing your eyes and turning your head away. Evidently, Steve found that funny, chuckling to himself, and the knowledge that they all found this amusing filled you with an indescribable rage. The sound of Thor fucking you with his fingers was loud, a wet squelch reaching your ears every time he pushed his fingers into your walls.

“I want to see her come,” Steve said, and you pulled at Bucky’s grip.

“No,” you cried, but both Thor and Bucky tightened their holds.

You could already feel your stomach tightening from Thor’s hand, his thumb brushing gentle circles over you, a stark contrast to the movements from his other fingers. You were gone completely however when Bucky leaned back down to nip at your chest before tasting the same pebbled bud Steve had, tongue brushing over the sensitive flesh and making you gasp.

It was all too much, and you could feel and hear your breathing getting heavier. Your stomach was tight and your toes were curled and your chest was arched upwards. Your lashes kept fluttering as you tried so hard to fight it, but against your will, you were pushed over the edge and you came around Thor’s fingers with an embarrassing sigh.

You heard Thor curse and then you felt his mouth on your mound barely a moment later. That only prolonged your orgasm, eyes falling close as he tasted you, his tongue lapping up any and everything you had to offer. He hummed against you, the feeling vibrating throughout your entire body, and you were so lost in the feeling that you didn’t even realize Bucky had let you go.

When Thor finally pulled away too, you were a trembling mess, and you could feel tears kissing your eyes. You barely felt the cold now, your skin so hot and your face so warm. You could hear the rustle of fabric, but you weren’t able to put two and two together until a metal hand was turning you over.

“Bucky–!”

His name had barely escaped your lips before a hand was underneath your stomach and forcing you to your knees. The head of his cock was pushing into you barely a moment later, and the noise that left you was one you couldn’t name. His metal hand was in your hair while the other was tight on your waist.

Your fingers dug into the leaves and dirt as he repeatedly thrust into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the otherwise quiet woods. Your head weakly hung as he pulled you back to meet his every thrust, pulling out until only the tip of him remained before sliding his cock into you to the hilt.

Every time you leaned away, the brunette pulled you back, groaning behind you at the feeling of you wrapped around him. For a while, you forgot all about Steve and Thor, but then you heard the crunch of leaves, and when you forced yourself to look up, your eyes met familiar blue ones.

“It didn’t have to be like this, you know,” Steve told you, and you hated that haughty tone in his voice. “It really didn’t.”

His betrayal—all of theirs—made more tears spill over as you glared at him. 

“Fuck you,” you spat at the blond, and Steve only gave you a crooked smile.

You cried out when Bucky’s hand curled around your throat, pulling back and forcing your back to his chest. His other arm snaked around your waist, and you dug your nails into the skin of his arm. He pressed his face into where your shoulder and your neck met, and Steve took another step towards you.

“Be patient, and you will.”

Your vision started to tilt and blur as the result of Bucky’s tight hold on your throat, the dark-haired super soldier whispering in your ear.

“You take my cock so well,” he softly told you just before he came inside of you.

Unfortunately, you came with him, wholly embarrassed and upset as he told you to milk his cock, tightly holding you against him until you stopped trembling. He whispered something else in your ear that sounded a lot like ‘good girl’ before pulling out of you, practically handing you to Thor as if you were a glass of water and not a human being.

You learned that Thor liked to look at your face.

He wasted no time in forcing your legs over his arms and pushing your knees next to your head before sliding into you with ease. The new and uncomfortable angle had you clawing at the dirt in desperation, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. His chest brushed against yours with every surge of his hips, and you couldn’t bite back the whimpers that crawled out of your throat even if you tried.

His skin slapped against yours, and your lips were parted the entire time he was inside of you. Occasionally he kissed you, a gentle gesture that was the complete opposite of how he fucked you. The leaves and twigs of the forest floor scratched at your back with every movement, but the pain from that was almost nonexistent in comparison to the way Thor stretched you out around his cock.

The god amongst the three naturally had the most stamina, and sweat coated your skin after being with Bucky and now Thor.

“I should hope you’re not getting tired, little one,” he said to you, and you squeezed your eyes shut at the perversion of the affectionate name he sometimes gave you. “I don’t know about them, but I want to make the best use of these twelve hours.”

When Thor was close, he dropped one of your legs, a large hand coming up to cover your breast and massage the skin. His teeth nipped at your throat, and your nails dug into his arm. His hips started to slow, Thor torturously dragging his cock in and out of you, driving you crazy and making you lift your hips.

“Atta girl,” you heard someone say, and it sounded like Steve.

Thor slowly pumped himself into you, not minding at all that you didn’t come with him as he spilled himself into you. He didn’t stop thrusting until he was spent, satisfied with himself before pulling out of your limp frame.

Your eyes felt so heavy, and more than anything, you wanted to disappear, but all too soon you felt a familiar hand on your leg.

“No,” you mumbled, pushing at Steve.

“Don’t be mean,” Steve whispered to you, kissing you. “Everybody else got their turn.”

The slap was loud and unexpected, even by you, but it was more than deserved. Somehow, you knew that this was Steve’s idea, and tears skipped down your cheeks as he continued to press kisses along your face as if you hadn’t just hit him.

His lips traveled to your jaw and then your neck, and your attempt to sit up and back away from him was halted. Steve pulled you back by your hips, forcing your legs around him before leaning back and taking you with him. You let out a grunt when you settled on top of him, attempting to get away, but he was already forcing you down onto his cock.

You both let out similar noises but for entirely different reasons.

The blond wasted no time, getting a tight grip on your hips and bending his knees as he thrust himself up into you. A choked moan escaped into the air, and Steve tightened his hold on your hips. The palms of your hands were pressed against his chest, and against your will, you picked up a rhythm as he forced you to ride him. 

You heard footsteps behind you, and you shouldn’t have been surprised to feel lips on the back of your neck. Bucky kissed along your throat as he forced your head back, and it took everything in you to keep your eyes somewhat open. He nipped at the skin, his lips eventually traveling to your lips for a few moments before pulling away entirely. Steve did not stop you once, forcing you to roll your hips over his and push yourself down onto his cock. 

You were dripping around him, and when you managed to look down, you could see him staring at where you two met, his tongue poking at his bottom lip as he watched himself disappear into you. It both disgusted you and made your heart skip a beat, doubly so when Thor grabbed your arms, holding them behind you as it was his turn to press kisses along your neck and shoulders.

You shuddered at the feeling and he chuckled.

“I think she might come again,” Thor said, and the blond god kissed the tears on your cheeks.

When he let you go, Steve forced you down against him, his arms wrapped around your back as he roughly pushed his cock up into you. You gasped into his ear, your moans growing louder with every thrust. Your hands pressed into the dirt to steady yourself, but it was no use as Steve practically kept your chest glued to his.

One of his hands curled around the back of your neck, and his lips pressed kisses along your jaw. You couldn’t catch your breath, and Steve could feel you clenching around him.

“You going to come for me, sweetheart? Hmm?”

You couldn’t find a snarky comment to throw at him, simultaneously wanting this to be over and to never end. Steve was repeatedly hitting something inside of you that had you mewling on top of him, and when his hand wrapped around the front of your throat, you clawed at it.

“The sooner you come, the sooner we take you back…”

You shook your head.

“...and get you all cleaned up…”

You pressed your nails into his hand, more tears spilling over.

“...and fed and well rested…”

He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“...and ready to do it all over again.”

When you came around Steve you saw stars, vision going dark and heart skipping a beat as he fucked you through your climax. Even when you had long stopped rolling your hips against his, Steve lazily pushed his cock into you, forcing you to flutter around him as he coated your walls.

You were completely spent and out of breath, barely able to protest as Bucky grabbed you and swung you up into his arms. You were covered in dirt and sweat and God knows what else as the dark-haired man chuckled at the sight of you.

You meticulously mixed chemicals, being sure not to create mustard gas. Your first week working as a cleaner for Stark Industries left you with zero training. The lead janitor was too occupied with her own doings to teach you how to properly clean certain things. It took you double to time to clean the bathrooms, your coworkers knew it, so when you’d disappear for hours, they never questioned it.

You’d been in the men’s bathroom for almost an hour already. The bristles of the brush scrubbed the tile around the toilet, the sound being the only thing heard in the enclosed space. That and your deep breathing, exhaustion filling you after a long day of work, coupled with the ever growing redness on your sore knees. Your shoulders burned from scrubbing, and you were so focused on just finishing so you could clock out; finally go home.

You never heard anyone enter the bathroom, you were too focused. You only noticed you were no longer alone when the door to the stall gets pushed open. You jump up, not out of fear but by being startled. When you eject yourself from your kneeled position, you spin in place, turning to face whoever stumbled upon you. You’re relieved to see Thor Odinson, standing there with a calculating look.

“Mr. Odinson, forgive me, I will be finished in a second.” You say, assuming he wouldn’t want a woman in the men’s restroom while he uses it. Offering a smile out of curtesy, you hold it for a second too long, even after you don’t see any amusement appear on his face. You clear your throat, quickly returning to scrubbing the stall. One hand held the disinfectant while your other held the brush. You tried rushing, feeling his growing presence behind you.

“Just gotta wipe it down now, sir.” You give him reassurance that you’d be gone in a second. But that second never comes. You move to step around him, reaching for your cleaning cart that held the microfiber cleaning cloths. You’re too focused on hurrying and getting out that you don’t take note of how silent the gods being. How observant he is, watching every move you make.

Your hands were full, you couldn’t defend yourself. In an instant they were empty, the brush clattering to the floor. The spray bottle cracking upon impact, bleach spilling all over the floor in a growing puddle. Your hands were now pressed to the mirror of the sink vanity. Your cheek pressed there too, your eyes searched behind you for Thor, seeing the look on his face finally told you what you needed to know. He wasn’t even here, this is primal, instinctual, animalistic.

“Mr. Odinson, you know this isn’t allowed.” You try to calmly remind him. You were no fool, you knew the strength he held, you knew he was a god. You knew your position, you were nobody, a maid at best. You should be thinking of every reason to be grateful for this, instead you’re gasping for air as he presses it out of you, his body weight leaning on your from behind.

Thor doesn’t respond, he knows what he’s doing, whether or not it’s wrong is up for debate. What else was he supposed to do? He saw a woman on her knees and felt like he needed to do something about it. You’re just a maid, no one would even know, he is the god of thunder and a king, any woman is his if he wishes. He couldn’t even recall how many maids and ladies in waiting on Asgard who carried his bastard children.

To Thor, he was doing the right thing. Using the resources provided to him. And how rude would he be if he disregarded Starks resources. That’s why he doesn’t rip your uniform, he pushes it up around your hips, being sure to pull your tights down in one swift movement.

Your hands stayed planted on the mirror you had shined less than an hour ago. You don’t know why, but you knew better than to fight back, you knew better than to move. In any other position maybe you’d be flattered he’d took an interest in you; but this was…less than personal, it was just him getting his rocks off. You don’t doubt if it had been Rose or Serenity; the same sequence of events would’ve occurred.

You hear the sound of leather and metal clasps rustling behind you, and you close your eyes, numbing yourself for what’s about to happen. You thought you could do it, go limp, deaf, blind to what’s happening to you; the second the thick tip of his cock slid past the barrier your thighs created, you were dropping your hands from the mirror, reaching behind you to brace yourself.

You don’t understand that it’s an impossible feat. You could never brace for the searing pain that blossoms between your legs. You couldn’t even breathe, you were dry, but he didn’t seem to care, pushing past that barrier too. You felt your sensitive skin stretch around him, but when the relentlessness of him trying to shove himself to the hilt comes, you feel yourself tearing.

When you feel the tuft of hair at the base of his cock brush against your ass you know he’s bottomed out. You can’t feel it, after the first tear; your lower body clocked out. Only when his big hands wrap around your love handles, you can feel how gentle his hands are. No matter the pain he was inflicting, it was like he knew his hands would break your bones, bruise your skin.

He’s even has the curtesy to let you have some semblance of adjusting to him. You wanna laugh, but you can’t, the timeline of events only happening in less than two minutes. Your brain isn’t processing and comprehending what’s happening. Your brain was turning into complete mush, you were trying to convince yourself of two things; you didn’t want this, and you desperately wanted it. You were confused.

The confusion only intensifying when he leans down and brushed the hair from your shoulder, whispering behind your ear. “Good little maid.”. That shouldn’t have had the effect that it did, but here you were, pushing your body back slightly at the praise. Like you were doing something right by not protesting. You were good for not fighting back. Deserving because of your meekness.

He groaned when he felt you push back against him, knowing it meant you wanted it, even if you didn’t say it. But in the end, he didn’t really care what you thought, you were doing your job. Your duty.

He doesn’t notice the fog on the mirror from your shallow breaths, or the fact that you’re wet has mixed with blood from being torn. He just starts pumping in and out of you at a rhythmic pace. You wish you could feel it, but your body is still fighting to some degree, refusing to let you or him relish in this moment.

His pace picks up, causing you to raise yourself on your tiptoes, giving him as much access as he needs, making it easier for him to slam back into you every time he torturously pulls out to admire how you swallow him, the pink folds wrapping around him perfectly, like a set of lips, sucking him in.

He had been relatively silent, little grunts and that tiny comment of praise earlier, so it shocks you when he lets out a high pitched whine. “Fuck, stay just like that.” He exclaims, feeling the building tension in his balls come to an eruption. He mercilessly claps his stomach into your ass cheeks, the slapping sound echoing off the walls, and that’s it for you, finally giving up whatever you were holding onto.

Your pussy gushes over him, and you let out a strangled wail, “Please.” You beg, you knew your hole was obliterated, ruined, stretched and full, the only thing that could benefit you now was if you got to cum too. You heard him chuckle behind you. Actually laugh at your plea. As if you had no room to even speak and this was all his doing, for his pleasure.

Tears finally fill your eyes, but not for your situation, it’s over cumming. Your desperation becoming too much, you start rocking on your tiptoes, finding a friction that pleasured you so you could make yourself cum. Thor doesn’t seem to mind, glad you’re finally participating. He’s too close to care truly, the new found tightness of your walls desperately clenching down on him, was rushing him towards his undoing.

You’re no where near close when you hear the bathroom door swing open, cutting through the thick air and letting a cold wind sweep through the tiled room, the tears and sweat on your face drying instantly. You can’t even look who it is, the shame of being caught not finding you.

Thor of course carries no shame for what he’s doing, he does register the person, and their bewildered look, laughing again but not stopping his movement. “What the fuck are you doing?” You hear an angry Brooklyn accent. Your vision wasn’t completely there as you roll your head to face the door, your eyes finding Steve Rogers standing there, his shoulders rising and falling as his breath picks up.

You could just make out the confusion, the disgust, the shame on the Captains face as he looks at the cleaning supplies strewn around the floor, lifting his boot to see that he’d stepped in the spilled bleach. He places it back down and lets out a scoff or a huff, you were too delirious to tell.

“I am taking advantage of what’s been provided. You’re the one being disrespectful.” Thor says with no humor in his voice. He had slowed his movement, standing behind you pressed fully into you. With the captains invasion, your senses are slowly coming back, the feeling returning to your lower body. A burning sensation is slowly building, the tiny rips in your skin drawing attention from your pain receptors.

“Please…” You mutter again, but for a different reason, it was for mercy, mercy that maybe you’d be saved from this by Steve. But as your eyes watch his hand find the door handle, pushing it closed behind him, any ounce of hope you had in Steve was gone. He was slowly turning into that silent shark Thor was when he found you cleaning.

“Move.” Is the only command you hear from Steve before Thors slipping out of you. You could’ve crumbled to the floor the second he released you, but a new set on hands found your hips, raising you back up on your tiptoes. “Shhh, you’re doing such a good job.” Steve praises and you can’t comprehend what he’s doing till he’s pushing into your other hole, filling your ass up. He was much smaller than the inhuman god, but it didn’t take away from the soul wrenching feeling of him ass fucking you.

You were screaming, the pain Steve was inflicting completely different than what Thor had done. He didn’t take long to spill inside of you, if you weren’t in such a vulnerable position, you could’ve laughed at him for how short he lasted, you expected more from him. But he’s probably never done anything like this before, the taboo of it causing him to lose control, the explosion coming from how dirty it made him feel.

“I need you,” a beg ripples through your tongue. He’s the only god you need. Fuck the holy Spirit. “Please, Thor, please,”

A rough grunt spills from his lips, snagging his hand away from your cunt to glide up your midriff before tweaking at your breast, pinching a nipple. You could feel the smirk gloss his mouth as his head falls against your spine with each thrust of his hips. Your vision blurs as he whispers against your skin, “you want me to fuck you harder, saint?”

WIth vigor, you nod, an inviting moan falls past the back of your throat, causing his cock to twitch inside of you.

“Oh, precious little girl,” he coos, leaning his head next to your ear, “how does it feel to seee a God for all he’s worth, hmm? Oh, the sinner sins, hmm?”

A boistroius whine escapes your lips once more, lip quivering at the soft voice next to you as you allow your head to fall forward, his thrusts rocking your body on the cold stone steps of the church. Thank the heavens for he cover of hte night. 

“Oh, my gods,” a stutter climbs its way pass the moans from your chest as you clench his cock so tightly inside you, causing him to erupt moments later.

That was until you knew that same oppressive existence. You didn’t want to believe it. You even laughed at yourself when the idea first flickered in your head. It’s just an odd series of coincidences. That’s just what happens when you live in the city. Famous people walking down the street isn’t some monumental occurrence. They have to live too.

No, no. It’s not just chance. It can’t be.

You try not to look directly at him as you sit at a table for two, your sketchbook out, coffee almost done. Typically, you hate a crowd. Ironic considering you chose New York. You’ve come to appreciate his flock of admirers. Not just that, witnesses.

You flip the page and add to the notes on the second last page; you put the time, date, location, and what you’re doing. The list of times and places begins consistently. You had your routine. You came down to the cafe under your apartment and worked on your projects. You enjoyed a tea latte or a light roast, took in the city rush, then went back.

The first time he came in was like a parade. The consistently busy coffee shop became a jungle of fans groping for a picture or autograph. Even the staff was ecstatic at his presence. You were there, calmly watching the furor. A small business in the tempestuous ocean of New York could only be thankful for the peak in business.

When he returned the next day, it was almost identical to the first, though the baristas were less excited for the crush of customers that came with the Avenger. You left after your table got bumped a few too many times.

That went on for…. Check your notes, twenty-two days. While the tides of fanatics receded somewhat, Thor kept coming back. Your routine slowly felt normal again.

Then he showed up at the grocery store. A small place a few blocks out of the way. A hidden gem you went to for the prices, rather than the convenience. It was a bit of a trek but a good reason to get out.

You tried not to make it more than it was. New York is so big and sometimes you get that urge to explore. You’re sure it’s no different for gods or Avengers. Especially not being from this planet, it would be novel to find those nooks and crannies hidden behind the big lights

But it wasn’t just once. Every time you went, he showed up just a few minutes after you. The fifth time, he beat you back to your building. He knocked the bags out of your hands as he nearly bowled you over in a poorly attempted act of accidental collision.

He helped gather up the scatter of groceries and commented how heavy it all was. You thanked him as he kept hold of one bag. You had to ask for it back. He asked if he could help bring it up. You thanked him again. He stared then reluctantly surrendered your produce.

That night it stormed. Heavily. The window shaking in the frame kept you awake. The flash of light scalded your eyelids each time you thought you might fall asleep. And in the morning, he was at the cafe. Day fifty-seven.

He approached your table this time, reminding you of your run in then introducing himself. Yeah, you recognise him. Oh, you do? Yes, it’s funny how everyone knows him. He asked for your name. You hesitated but gave it. You could sense he wanted to sit. You apologised and told him you had to finish your work.

Oh, yes, you are sorry now.

The cafe, the grocery, those could be chalked up to chance if you squint. But then it was a doctor’s appointment. You’ve been feeling bloated and your periods are getting heavier, more painful. You could switch birth control. You’ll think about it.

Thor was outside. He had his hood up and head down but that ring on his middle finger and the shanks of blond hair spilling out of his hoodie were a giveaway. He waited until you got to the corner then started to follow. You didn’t put your earbuds in. Instead of walking, you took the subway, crowded by people.

Then he started showing up at the studio. And the art shows. He bought a sculpture of a daisy twisted around a can of coke. Not one of your favourite pieces.

Everywhere you went, you caught a glimpse of golden hair or the sky rippled with unspent rain. The days grew gloomier and your world smaller.

You found a different cafe but a new apartment wasn't so viable. The search kept you busy well into the late hours of the night. The silhouette flashing with the lightning too.

New cafe, new grocery story, new route to the doctor's. And notes. Make notes of it all.

You're still not sure if anyone would believe you but they would know after what happened. Would they care? Or even believe it then?

And then he found you again. At the cafe with the gritty dark roast and too dim lights. You don't get much done there but you have your coffee and put down some line work. He sits against the wall opposite you. He's staring. You used the scratch mirror keychain to check.

You finish the coffee in large but cautious sips. You close your sketchbook and slip your pencil into your rollup case. You put it all in your satchel and get up to toss the empty cup.

You keep your phone in your hand as you leave the shop. Who are you going to call? He out ranks the cops. You remember them laughing when you first moved to the city and that creep on the subway sat with his hand in your crotch.

You change your route again. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the air turns static. A low rumble rolls above and your eyes flick up the grey sky. It was blue only a moment ago.

The wind whips around you as you pick up your feet. You turn up one street and double back down the next. You draw a maze through the city, in a full sprint by the time you reach your block.

It’s pouring so hard you can barely get a grip on the handle. Your keys slip as you scan your fob and the lock clicks loudly. You pull the door open and gasp as you spin and shove it into the frame. You look out into the grey. There’s no one there.

You back up and turn, nearly shrieking as you find someone waiting. You recognise the woman in her maroon rain coat. She frowns as she looks past you.

“Nasty weather,” she says.

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur and sidestep her. “Sorry…”

You flit past her and up the stairs. Your shoes squeak with moisture as you hurry up to your floor. You shove through another door and head down the hall. You stop at your apartment and ram the key into the lock and twist.

As you slide the latch into place from the other side, you sigh. You drop your keys in the tray and put your bag beside the small square table. You unzip your jacket and hang it on the small rack.

You stop and stare at your hands. You’re shaking. You bend to unlace your shoes and pull them off with your thumb. Your socks are soaked.

You cross your apartment, stripping off your damp sweater as you do. You enter your bedroom with the fabric over your face. Your heart plucks up as thunder claps outside the windows. You pull the sweater down your arms and nearly fall backwards.

Thor Odinson, Avenger, Asgardian god, prince or king or whatever he claims to be, sits on your bed. Calm, staring. As if there’s nothing unordinary about his presence. 

You hug the rumpled sweater and lean back on your heel. You spin and lightning flashes behind you. The door is blocked by his immense figure.

You shy away and whimper.

“Why are you doing this?” You quaver.

“What am I…” he growls. “Why do you run?”

“Because… you won’t stop.”

His golden brows furrow and his blue eyes twinkle. His lips curve and he reaches for you. You flinch away but he catches you by your shoulders. He drags his hands up your neck as you tremble and frames your face. He steps closer, a thrum flowing from his fingertips into your flush.

“Stop what, pet?” He intones. “All I’ve done is watch.”

“Please, don’t–”

He hushes you and squeezes just until you squirm. He leans in and brushes his nose against yours. The thunder pounds and the wind whips the windows furiously. His laughter echoes the angry sky. 

The crowd was a sea of sophistication and celebration, filled with some of the world’s most brilliant minds and powerful figures. Avengers, fellow agents, scientists, dignitaries, and an assortment of Stark’s high-profile acquaintances mingled beneath the glittering decor. Glasses of champagne sparkled in the ambient light, the clink of crystal blending seamlessly with the lively hum of conversation and bursts of laughter. It was a night of indulgence, camaraderie, and for some, strategic networking.

It was also the last place you wanted to be.

Parties weren’t your thing. Crowded rooms, loud conversations, the unspoken pressure to be sociable-it all grated on your nerves. You’d much rather have spent the evening at home, wrapped in a cozy blanket, watching the New Year’s Eve ball drop on TV. But Natasha Romanoff had other ideas.

“Come on,” she’d said earlier that evening, standing in your apartment with her hands on her hips and a dress draped over one arm. “You’ve dodged this party for two years now. It’s time to show your face, have a little fun for once.”

“I have fun,” you’d protested weakly, clutching your favourite oversized sweater like a security blanket.

Natasha had merely smirked, shaking her head as if you were a particularly stubborn case she was determined to crack. “Sitting at home in pajamas eating takeout is not ‘fun.’ You’re coming with me. End of discussion.”

An hour later, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror in a dress that clung to your figure in ways that left you feeling vulnerable, if not outright exposed. It was sleek, elegant, and undeniably out of your comfort zone. Natasha, of course, looked effortlessly stunning in her own dress, her confidence as sharp as the blade she kept tucked in her thigh holster.

“Trust me,” she’d said, adjusting the straps of your dress and giving you an approving once-over. “You’ll thank me later.”

Now, standing by the bar with a drink in hand, you weren’t so sure. The room was alive with energy, but the glitz and glamour only heightened your discomfort. You nursed your drink, letting the cool glass anchor you as you scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Sam and Natasha were somewhere nearby, but the sheer volume of the party made it difficult to pinpoint them.

You weren’t sure what you were searching for-maybe a quiet corner to disappear into, or a conversation that didn’t feel forced. Anything to make the evening less overwhelming.

That’s when your gaze landed on him.

Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder, was impossible to miss. Towering over the crowd, he moved through the room with the kind of confidence that only someone truly larger than life could possess. His perfectly tailored suit emphasized his broad shoulders and powerful build, while the golden strands of his hair, tied neatly at the nape of his neck, gleamed like molten sunlight in the soft glow of the chandeliers. He was laughing, his rich, booming voice cutting effortlessly through the noise as he clapped Clint Barton on the back.

You rolled your eyes. Of course Thor was here. The man was practically a walking spectacle, his presence commanding attention wherever he went. His charm was undeniable, but his intensity was something else entirely-a force of nature that could be as overwhelming as the storms he commanded.

The last thing you wanted tonight was to get caught up in his orbit.

Turning back to your drink, you tried to focus on the glass in your hand and the low hum of the music. The God of Thunder had a way of pulling everyone into his gravitational pull, and you weren’t in the mood to be swept away. A conversation with Sam and Natasha, a quick hello to the logistics team, and then you’d slip out unnoticed. That was the plan.

Thor, it seemed, had other plans.

His approach felt like a coming storm even with that grin on his face as bright as the lights above.

“M’lady,” he boomed, his voice carrying over the music. “You grace this gathering with your presence! A most pleasant surprise.”

Your returning smile barely made it past polite the grip on your glass tightening. “Thor. Enjoying yourself?”

“Indeed,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with something you’d when your father had had one too many drinks at Thanksgiving. “Though the night grows even brighter in your company.”

Natasha arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Smooth, Odinson. Very smooth.”

Sam chuckled, elbowing you lightly. “Looks like someone’s got an admirer.”

Before you could respond, Thor’s gaze turned sharp, his grin widening as though he’d just had an idea. “Aye, perhaps they do. In fact…” He turned to the small group of agents nearby who had clearly been eavesdropping, their curiosity plain on their faces. “M’Lady and I are courting.”

The words hung in the air, and you froze, your mind racing in an attempt to process what he’d just said. Courting? Was he serious?

Nat and Sam exchanged glances, their interest immediately piqued. Natasha’s smirk grew, while Sam’s laughter erupted beside you.

“Wait-what?” you spluttered, turning to Thor with wide eyes. “We’re what?”

Thor looked down at you, his expression the picture of innocence. “A jest. To ward off prying eyes and overly curious admirers.”

You glared at him, heat rising in your cheeks. “That’s not funny.”

“It is effective,” he countered smoothly, his grin never faltering. “Unless you object?”

Before you could respond, Natasha stepped in. “You know what? I like it. Makes things interesting.”

“Agreed,” Sam added with a chuckle. “Let’s see how long it takes for the rumour mill to run wild.”

“Wait what?” Your cheeks flushed red, these people were supposed to be your friends and they were just…just turning you into some sort of joke? “Oh come on, it’ll be funny. Relax, no one is going to honestly believe it.” Part of you wasn’t sure if you should be offended by Natasha's remark or not.  You stood in stunned silence as suddenly Natasha and Sam were placing bets amongst themselves about who they could convince of this whole charade while you just felt yourself shrink up inside.

By the time the clock struck eleven, the entire room seemed to know about your supposed relationship with Thor. Everywhere you went, you caught whispers and sly smiles, agents and staff alike casting curious glances your way. Natasha and Sam were doing a fantastic job of helping things along. It was infuriating-and Thor wasn’t helping.

He played the part far too well. His hand found the small of your back whenever you were in reach, something he seemed to make sure you always where. His rich laughter carrying over the crowd as he introduced you as ‘His Lady’  He brought you drinks, engaged you in conversation, and even danced with you under the glittering lights, his touch firm yet gentle as he led you across the floor.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you muttered as he spun you effortlessly, his grin never fading.

“Immensely,” he admitted, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “And you, my Lady, are a most excellent partner in deception.”

The words were harmless on the surface, but there was something in the way he said them, in the way his eyes held yours, that made your skin prickle. His usual warmth was still there, but beneath it lingered the quiet, unmistakable reminder of what he was-a god. Larger than life, overwhelming in both presence and charm, he exuded a kind of power that made him impossible to ignore.

“Thor,” you said softly, trying to pull back, but his hand slid to your waist, holding you steady.

“Yes, my Lady?” he replied, voice low and velvety, laced with amusement but also a weight that made your heart race. His grip was light enough not to alarm, but firm enough to remind you that you weren’t going anywhere unless he allowed it.

You wanted to argue, to tell him to cut it out, but the way he looked at you-those stormy eyes full of mischief, a sly curve to his lips-made it frustratingly difficult to form the words. It was still just a game, you told yourself, a bit of fun at your expense. But the intensity with which he played his part made it hard to shake the feeling that, joke or not, he was enjoying this far too much. And maybe, against your better judgment, a small, traitorous part of you was, too.

As the countdown to midnight began, the crowd pressed toward the massive clock projected onto the far wall, voices rising in anticipation. You seized the opportunity to slip away, weaving through the throng in search of refuge from the growing tension. But you barely made it a few steps before a hand caught your wrist, firm and unyielding, pulling you back.

“Leaving so soon?” Thor’s voice was low, rich, and tinged with an authority that sent a shiver down your spine. He didn’t need to raise his voice to command attention.

You forced a lightness into your tone. “I thought I’d avoid the spectacle.”

He chuckled, a sound that rolled over you like distant thunder, his grip firm but not cruel. “Stay,” he said, his stormy blue eyes fixed on yours, an undercurrent of something almost possessive in their depths. “I cannot see the New Year without you.”

It wasn’t a request. It never was with him.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the crowd began the countdown, their voices swelling in unison. Thor’s gaze didn’t waver, the intensity of it rooting you in place, making you feel as though the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

“Ten! Nine!”

The noise of the crowd faded to a distant hum as Thor stepped closer, the heat of his presence washing over you. He loomed, his broad frame both sheltering and suffocating, his hand rising to cup your cheek. His touch was deceptively gentle, his thumb brushing against your skin with unnerving familiarity.

“Eight! Seven!”

“This is a bad idea,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as you spoke, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, your body betraying you by leaning into him.

“Nonsense,” he said softly, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. “I see no better idea.”

“Six! Five!”

The air seemed to thicken, the space between you vanishing as his face inched closer. His breath was warm against your lips, the promise of his kiss sending your pulse into a frantic rhythm.

“Four! Three!”

You should have stopped him. You should have walked away. But you didn’t. Couldn’t. The pull of him was as inevitable as the tide, a force of nature too powerful to resist.

“Two! One!”

His lips claimed yours, slow and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world to remind you of just how much power he held. The kiss was consuming, a deliberate act of dominance wrapped in warmth, and it left no room for doubt-he was in control. The room erupted into cheers, but the sound barely registered over the pounding of your heart and the way his hands anchored you to the moment, unyielding yet careful, as if daring you to move.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze lingered on yours, his expression unreadable but charged with an intensity that made it impossible to breathe. His thumb brushed your cheek.

“Happy New Year, my lady.” “H-Happy New Year Thor.”  Had the kiss really left you so breathless? Thor’s smile widened at your stammered response, his hand lingering at your cheek for a moment longer than necessary. There was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes-a god who knew the effect he had on you, who thrived on it. Before you could gather your thoughts, he stepped closer, his hand slipping to your waist.

“You look pale, my Lady,” he said, his voice soft but weighted with implication. “Perhaps some air would do you well.”

His hand slid down to your wrist, his grip as unyielding as iron. Before you could protest, he was already leading you away, his towering presence parting the crowd as effortlessly as a storm cutting through the sky. The other partygoers barely spared a glance, their laughter and chatter uninterrupted. To them, this was nothing more than a natural progression of what they believed to be an established relationship.

“Thor, wait-I’m fine,” you said, trying to pull back. Your protests were futile against the sheer strength of his grip, his pace steady and unrelenting.

“Nonsense,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder with a calm, almost amused expression. “You’ve given me your company all evening. It’s only fair I offer you mine.”

His words were smooth, his tone almost teasing, but there was no mistaking the finality in them. He wasn’t giving you a choice. The halls outside the party grew quieter as he led you away from the noise, his steps purposeful. You felt your heart pounding, the reality of the situation sinking in with every passing second.

“Thor, people will talk-”

“Let them,” he interrupted, his voice a low rumble that silenced any further argument. “They already believe what they wish. It changes nothing.”

By the time you realized where he was leading you, it was too late. The door to his room loomed ahead, and with a swift motion, he opened it, pulling you inside before closing it behind him. The lock clicked, the sound loud and final in the quiet of the room.

You turned to face him, breathless and unsure, your mind racing for something-anything-to say. But Thor was already moving, his broad frame advancing on you with the same quiet confidence he’d displayed all evening. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, his strength impossible to resist.

“Do not fear, my Lady,” he murmured, his tone softer now but no less commanding. His thumb brushed over your hip, the heat of his touch bleeding through the fabric of your dress. “You are mine tonight.”

“Thor, wait-” The protest fell from your lips as his hands found your waist again, his grip firm but not bruising. His sheer presence was overwhelming, an undeniable reminder of his power, of his dominance. He loomed over you, his piercing gaze fixed on yours, as though daring you to resist.

“My Lady, you deserve so much more then to be just a silly joke.” he said softly, his voice like the distant roll of thunder. His hand moved to cup your chin, tilting your face upward. “You spent the evening by my side, all out there believe this to be-”

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours, not kissing you but letting the anticipation build, the air between you thick and charged. Your heart raced, a mixture of defiance and something darker, something you couldn’t bring yourself to name.

“Thor-this… this isn’t-”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. His smile was faint, predatory. “No need for words, my Lady. Let me show you how a god worships.”

Before you could reply, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, his strength undeniable. You gasped, your hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, but he didn’t falter. Instead, he carried you further into the room, the door a forgotten barrier behind you. Your protests felt small, swallowed by the sheer force of his presence, the intensity in his gaze as he laid you down on the bed as though you belonged there.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice a velvety growl as he traced a finger along your jawline. “Do not fret, I will not break you-”

Your cheeks burned, and you turned your head, but his hand caught your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His expression softened for the briefest moment, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place before the hunger returned.

His hands moved with purpose, trailing down your sides as he leaned over you, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. The heat of his breath sent shivers down your spine, his kisses deliberate, claiming. Your body betrayed you, arching into his touch even as your mind screamed at you to stop this, to push him away. But he was unrelenting, his hands exploring, his lips pulling soft gasps and reluctant whimpers from your throat.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble. “The pull between us. You cannot deny it.”

His lips found yours again, this time deeper, more consuming. His hands roamed with a purpose that left no room for doubt-he wasn’t going to stop, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to.

Thor’s lips descended on yours again, harder this time, with the weight of a storm behind them. There was no hesitance in his actions, no room for second-guessing. His hand slid up your thigh, you wanted to protest, to push him away, but who were you to deny a god.

“Thor, please,” you whispered, though even you weren’t sure if it was a plea for him to stop or to continue.

His thumb brushed over your lower lip again, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of heat through you. The smile tugging at the corners of his mouth told you he had decided the answer.  His lips found the hollow of your throat, kissing and biting gently, enough to make you gasp and arch against him.

“It’s alright-” he murmured, his voice a deep growl that sent shivers down your spine.

His fingers brushed against the edge of your underwear, a featherlight touch that made you tense beneath him. He paused, his stormy blue eyes locking onto yours, watching every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. “You’re trembling again,” he said softly “So sensitive.”

You couldn’t answer; your voice had abandoned you. Thor didn’t wait for a response, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, finding your heat with an ease that made your breath hitch. He explored you with deliberate slowness, his touch skilled and confident, as though he had all the time in the world to unravel you.

“Do you see now?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “Even Gods are gentle.”

Your protests, feeble and half-hearted, were swallowed by the overwhelming intensity of his actions. His fingers moved expertly, drawing soft gasps and whimpers from you despite your attempts to stifle them. The tension in the room thickened, his dominance palpable as he claimed every inch of your focus, leaving no room for thought, no space to resist.

When he finally withdrew, his hand moved to his belt, the sound of the buckle unfastening sharp in the quiet room. His gaze never left yours, and the weight of it pinned you in place, making your breath catch as he bared himself before you.

“I will show you what you deserve,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous promise. “And you will thank me for it.”

Thor’s hands gripped your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed as he positioned himself, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you no time to process, no room to escape.

You couldn’t even remember him telling you to open your mouth as you felt him push past your lips his length filled your mouth, the head of his arousal brushing against the back of your throat. You felt a surge of panic, your body instinctively trying to pull back, but his hands gripped your shoulders, holding you in place.

“No, no- stay for me.” His eyes burned with intensity, watching you as he slowly began to move, his hips rocking back and forth. The sensation was overwhelming, his length stretching your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. You felt a gag reflex rising, but he seemed to sense it, his movements slowing, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned in closer, his voice a low growl,

"You will learn, just relax, breath deep.” His words of coaching praise filling the while his hands moved, one releasing your shoulder to grasp your hair, pulling your head back, exposing your throat. Thors’s eyes flashed with hunger as he began to move again, his thrusts slow and deliberate, filling your mouth with each stroke. You felt your body responding, your lips and tongue working to accommodate him, your throat relaxing to take him deeper, tears pricking at your eyes. “That’s it, good girl.”

The sound of his breathing filled the air, his groans low and husky, as he moved, his hips rocking back and forth. His eyes never left yours, burning with intensity, as he claimed your mouth, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You felt yourself getting lost in the sensation, your body responding to his touch, as he took you, surly it was the champagne going to your head and not the act of being used like this that made your pussy soak the fabric between legs.

It had to be? Not the way texture of his skin smooth felt, the taste of him salty and musky seemed to make your head spin. The Gods veins pulsing against your tongue, his arousal throbbing with each beat of his heart and it seemed to match the way your own cunt now throbbed. His hands held you in place, his grip firm but not bruising, as he moved, his thrusts slow and deliberate, filling your mouth with each stroke.

As he moved, his tip hit the back of your throat, sending a surge of pleasure through your body. You felt your lips and tongue working to accommodate him, your throat relaxing to take him deeper. His eyes flashed with hunger, his gaze burning with intensity, as he claimed your mouth, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

Suddenly, he pulled out, his length slipping from your lips, leaving you gasping for air. His eyes never left yours, burning with intensity, as his hand brushed through your hair and stroked your neck, "Not yet, my sweet lady..” His finger played with the straps of your dress, a you felt a shiver run down your spine. “I think it’s time this found my floor.”

Your hands didn’t move fast enough as he waited for you to comply. "Take it off," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I want to see you." Slowly reached up, your hands grasping the straps, and slid them down your shoulders. The dress fell away, moving so it the fabric was left in a pool on the floor.

Thor's gaze roamed over your body, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. He seemed to savor every curve, every contour, his eyes burning with hunger, no one looked at you like that. As he took you, he began to strip, his movements slow and deliberate. Removing his already unfastened pants, letting them fall to the floor, and then reached up, pulling his shirt over his head.

You couldn't help but stare at him, his body a masterpiece of muscle and strength. His chest was broad, his shoulders wide, and his abdomen rippled with definition. His arousal jutting out from his body still wet in places from your mouth. He took a step closer, his hands reaching out to grasp your hips. His fingers slid under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down, leaving you as naked as him. While his face expression nothing but adoration, you had never felt so vulnerable, so small.

His hands moved, one grasping your hip, holding you in place, while the other slid down, his fingers brushing against your core. You felt a jolt of pleasure, your body responding to his touch, as he slid a thick finger inside you, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“That’s it, relax.”

He added another finger, his touch deliberate, stretching you open. You felt yourself getting lost in the sensation, your body responding to his touch, but even like this you felt overwhelming.  his movements slow and deliberate. His fingers moved, preparing you for him, pushing against your walls, as he watched you taking in your face as blood rushed to your cheeks as he went to add a third.

“Thor, I-this is too much-”

“Too much? I have barely begun, my Lady. And you will take all of it. You are not used to such worship that is all. You do not need to run from pleasure.”

He pressed his lips into your swallowing the whimper as he made his third digit slid in with the others, the sting around your entrance almost enough to cause tears. You wanted to protest but it was lost again when his thumb brushed against your clit, sending a surge of pleasure through your body. You felt yourself arching into his touch, your hips rising to meet his hand now, as he stretched you open. Thor pulling back a pleased smile on his face at your response to him.

“See? Eager for it now aren’t you?”  His thumb pressed harder again taking the ach away his fingers caused.   Thor’s pleased smile deepened as he watched you writhe beneath him, his thumb circling your clit with calculated precision. The tears threatening to spill from your eyes didn’t seem to bother him-in fact, they only seemed to encourage him. His other hand rested possessively on your hip, holding you in place as he continued his deliberate assault on your senses.

“You feel that?” he murmured, his voice low and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. “How perfectly your body mold’s to my touch.  I will teach you to cherish it.”

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, the pleasure blurring the edges of your thoughts and stealing the words from your lips. His fingers worked inside you, stretching and teasing, coaxing your body to open for him even as the sting lingered. The wetness coming from you now seemed to please him more.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a rumble of satisfaction. “I will worship you here and you will give me yourself in return.”

You shivered at his words, a mix of defiance and submission warring within you. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me, do you feel it? The way your body craves what only I can give you? There’s no shame in surrendering to a god.  I’ve seen how you all look at me. I will make more then the joke they all thought you to be.”

You couldn’t form a response, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as your hips moved against his hand, chasing the relief his touch promised. He smile widening, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You’re ready...” Withdrawing his fingers suddenly and leaving you gasping at the emptiness. “And you’ll take me beautifully.”

Before you could process his words, Thor shifted, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider. The weight of his arousal pressed against your entrance, hot and unyielding, as he positioned himself.

“Thor-wait, I-” The words came out in a rush, but he silenced you with a kiss, his lips demanding and consuming. The stretch was immediate and overwhelming as he entered, your body fighting to adjust to his sheer size. The sharp sting from his fingers was nothing to this, yet you could not deny that under all the sharp pain pleasure thrummed.

“Thor-” you gasped against his lips, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice dark and soothing as he stilled for a moment, giving you a chance to adjust. “Feel me, little one. All of me. Do not fight it-you are made to take this, I know you can.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you tried to breathe through the intensity, but Thor’s hands never faltered, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips as though he was calming a restless storm. “Good,” he rumbled, his tone almost reverent. “You’re doing so well. Let yourself feel it. Accept it.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin.  You whimpered in response, unsure if the sound came from the lingering ache or the undeniable pull of his presence. He began to move, slow and deliberate, his body pressing deeper into yours with each measured thrust. Every inch of him demanded your focus, filling you so completely that it left no room for thought, no space to question.

“I-Thor, I-” The words dissolved into a gasp as he shifted, his angle driving deeper, sparking a wave of sensation that stole the air from your lungs.

“Shhh,” he soothed, his hand sliding up your body to cup your jaw. “You don’t need words, my Lady. Let your body speak for you.”

He claimed you with an unrelenting rhythm, his movements slow and controlled, as though he was savoring every second. His free hand trailed down to your clit, his thumb brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves with just enough pressure to send sparks shooting through your body. Your hips bucked against him involuntarily, a soft cry escaping your lips.

“See?” he murmured, his voice a low growl of approval. “Your body knows, trust yourself.”

The praise was intoxicating, and despite yourself, you felt your walls clenching around him, your body betraying the conflict in your mind. Thor’s smile deepened, his dominance radiating in every deliberate thrust. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and overwhelming, a contradiction that left you breathless. His pace quickened slightly, each thrust driving you closer to the edge, the pleasure building with an intensity that threatened to consume you entirely. You started to get lost in the feeling now, his strength was undeniable, as his hips pushed up and into you. His commanding dominance absolute, outside that room ceased to exist. It was only him-his touch, his voice, his overwhelming presence-consuming you entirely.

Thor’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he anchored you in place, each thrust deliberate and unrelenting. His movements left no room for resistance, no space to think beyond the way he filled you, the way he moved against you with a precision that made your body betray every doubt you had.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a dark rumble that seemed to vibrate through your very core. “The way your body bends to me, yields to me..”

You couldn’t answer, your breaths coming in ragged tight pants as his pace intensified, the sound of his skin meeting yours filling the room. Your body felt as though it was on fire, every nerve alive under his touch, your felt every vein drag against slick velvet walls. Every move from him sparked new sensation, this was what it was to be taken by a God.

“Thor,” you gasped, his name slipping from your lips.

“That’s it,” he said, his tone shifting into something almost tender, though it was lust clouding though normally clear blue eyes of his. “Say my name.”

The circling on your clit just enough to make your hips buck involuntarily against him. He growled softly, his hand sliding up your body to press against your stomach, holding you firmly in place as he drove deeper. God you felt him in your stomach as he tip nudged against your cervix.

The room felt smaller, hotter, his presence overwhelming every corner as he pulled you closer to the edge. Your cunt tightens around him, the pleasure building to a point that left you gasping for air, your mind spinning as he continued to push you further. The intensity of it was almost too much, yet not enough, your body caught in a storm you couldn’t escape-and didn’t want to.

His thumb pressing harder against your clit as his thrusts grew more forceful, more deliberate. “Do not fight it. I feel you, so tight for me, so wet.”  

His words broke something inside you, the final push that sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, a cry escaping your lips as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling and gasping beneath him. Thor didn’t stop, his pace unrelenting as he chased his own release, his growls deepening, the sound raw and primal.

Five minutes. 

You’ve always looked the other way with Thor, averted your eyes from the things you know you shouldn’t know—the nights he’d come home bruised and bloody, nights he didn’t come home at all. But you couldn’t look away from that. Still can’t—you see it every time you close your eyes, the man’s head splitting like ripe fruit, the dark spray of blood in the air. 

You clutch yourself. 

The station is still shockingly empty, not even the attendant has come back to check on you, and you wonder if he’s already off for the evening. 

I should leave. Wait outside. 

You grab your duffel bag, hefting it over your shoulder as you decide you’ll wait on the platform where the conductor can see you. The waiting room is too small, too close. The bag is heavy, digging into the meat of your shoulder through your shirt. You had packed as light as you could—only the essentials, the things you couldn’t replace. You rise from the bench with a sigh, turning to glance at the attendant’s counter, just to see if he’s back yet, and your chest goes cold and tight at the sight of Thor. 

He’s there in the doorway, like he’d been waiting for you to see him. He leans casually against the frame, arms crossed and eyes dark, watching you.  You begin to tremble, fear knotting in your belly. No. No, no, no—

“Hey, Baby.” He peels off his motorcycle gloves as you watch, pulling off one finger at a time. “Going somewhere?” He takes a step toward you and you take a mirroring one back. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Love. You know me.” He inches closer, hands out like he’s approaching a wounded animal.

Your eyes flick from him to the exit, and you wonder fleetingly if you’ll make it, if you can be fast enough. Thor clucks his tongue at you. 

“I wouldn’t.” It’s like he can smell your doubt. “You won’t make it ten steps.”

 “We’re gonna talk about this like reasonable adults, Love.” You can hear the train, still a ways off but chugging steadily closer. The clock behind his head reads two minutes. “Don’t—”

You run. 

Legs pumping, sprinting wildly for the exit and the platform beyond. The train horn sounds, it’s pulling in—and the strap of your bag goes taut as you’re yanked painfully back against Thor’s chest. 

“Well, color me surprised,” he says, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “that was twelve.” 

—

“What did we learn, Love?” Thor asks, fingers digging into the curve of your hips. He hums as he moves you back and forth across his cock, sliding your soaked and clenching cunt along from tip to base and back again. When you don’t answer, he nudges aside your hair and nips at the base of your throat. You whine in response. 

“T-that we make big decisions t-together.” 

“That’s right.” He laves the stinging bite mark. “Fuck, no I in team, right Sweetheart?” His cock pushes hard against your swollen clit and you gasp, hips twitching. Thor tilts your head and when he kisses you, you taste yourself on his tongue. His fingers find your nipples, twisting and tugging as you pant into his mouth. 

The apartment is dark, lit only by the streetlights outside, and occasionally the headlights of a passing car. For just an instant, you see Thor’s face in the mirror, eyes hungrily intent on your own. You are glad when the darkness falls across his features like a curtain again, because it means you don’t have to see him. 

Or yourself. You don’t want to think about what you know—what you have learned about him, about you. 

 You keen as he begins to press inside, hating the way you relish the delicious stretch and burn as you’re parted. It’s always felt like putting together the pieces of a puzzle when Thor fits himself between your wide-spread thighs. It still does, and you hate how right it feels as he forces himself so deep inside you feel like you might be choking on him.

“Even if you’d gotten on that train, Love,” he pants, “did you really think you could keep me from my baby?”