#dark thor

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.

"Hello, my name is Y/n, and I will be your server tonight," a polite voice addressed. "Can I get y'all started on some drinks?" 

Thor paused when he heard the waiter introduce himself. That voice... he would know that anywhere. Slowly, he lifted his eyes from the menu, and his eyes locked with the person standing near the table.

And, sure enough, it was him.

Y/n L/n.

"Y/n!" Thor's lips curled into a big smile.

The waiter looked up from the pad in his hands when he heard his name called. A fond grin appeared on his face when he saw the individual who called out to him.

"Hi, Thor!" Y/n walked around the table and the God stood up to give him a brief hug before stepping back. "It's so great to see you again. It's been too long, and wow, you cut your hair! It looks amazing."

"Thank you, old friend," Thor boomed, as he took his seat again, his piercing blue eyes never leaving his old friend's form. "It has been so long. I never expected to find you here, a restaurant, of all places."

The other Avengers quietly observed the exchange. They were intrigued by Thor's familiarity with someone the team didn't recognize. After all, they knew of Thor's brief friendships with Darcy and his ex-girlfriend, Jane, but this one was a new face. As they watched the guys interact, it became clear that Thor and his friend had a history that went back a long way.

Steve spoke, "So, Y/n, how do you know Thor? It looks like you two go way back."

The waiter nodded. "We do go way back. Way back. I was once an Asgardian god."

The five Avengers exchanged surprised glances. Clearly, they had not expected such a revelation. But Thor, on the other hand, frowned at Y/n's choice of words.

"Y/n, what do you mean, you 'were once' an Asgardian God?" His tone was sharp with curiosity, and his eyes searched for answers in Y/n's e/c eyes. Why did Y/n voice that? Was he not a God anymore? 

The former Asgardian cleared his throat, a subtle signal that the topic wasn't one he wished to delve into at this moment. "That is a story for another day. But for now, what can I get you heroes to drink?"

Tony was the first one to speak up and he ordered a martini, shaken, not stirred. Steve opted for a Coca-Cola, while Clint chose a cocktail. Natasha requested a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, and Bruce kept it simple, ordering a glass of water. However, Thor remained silent, his gaze fixed on Y/n. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts known only to the man.

"Uh, Point Break, it’s your turn," Tony said.

Thor blinked twice, momentarily startled before clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away from Y/n. "Aye, my apologies. I will have... uh, what is that earthly drink you mortals enjoy so much?" He looked to Tony for guidance, who rolled his eyes.

"You mean beer?" The billionaire supplied.

Thor nodded, turning his gaze back to Y/n. "Yes, I will have a human beer, please."

Y/n nodded and jotted down the orders with swift movements of his pencil. He turned to leave but paused, and asked if they were ready to order food or if they needed more time with the menu. As it turned out, everyone was ready to order.

The male server took their food orders, starting with Tony again, who ordered a steak with sides of mac and cheese and broccoli cheese casserole. Steve opted for a classic bacon cheeseburger and fries, while Clint chose a plate of pasta with garlic bread. Natasha ordered sushi with a side of chicken, and Bruce opted for a massive plate of ribs and mashed potatoes. Thor mirrored Bruce’s choice.

After writing down their food orders, Y/n left, heading to the kitchen and leaving the heroes to their conversation. Thor's eyes followed Y/n's retreating figure, his mind racing with numerous questions.

As the Avengers talked, Thor found it hard to focus. His mind kept wandering back to Y/n, his old friend who was now a waiter. He couldn't shake his curiosity about what happened to Y/n since they last saw each other and the implication that the man had given up his godhood.

"Thor," Natasha's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. "It seems like you and Y/n have quite the history. Care to fill us in?" Her tone was inviting, leaving the decision to share entirely up to Thor.

"I've known Y/n since the dawn of time. He came to Asgard as a young adult and we were very close. We fought in battles and went on countless journeys. Though it seems I missed this part of his journey."

Clint, who was sitting across from Thor, arched a brow and gave him a knowing look. "Dude," Clint wiggled his eyebrows. "you have a crush on him, don't you?" It seems that nothing escaped Clint's gaze.

Natasha playfully nudged Clint, as Bruce shook his head. He muttered something about Clint being an idiot though a small chuckle did manage to escape his throat.

A slight pink hue tinted Thor's cheeks. "I certainly do not have a crush on him."

And that was true — Thor did not have a crush on Y/n. On the contrary, what he felt for his old friend ran deeper than a fleeting crush, even after all these years.

A little while later, Y/n returned with two more servers that had trays filled with food and drinks. They carefully placed everything on the table, ensuring that everyone received their ordered meals. "Guys, enjoy your meal, and feel free to flag me down if you need anything else," Y/n then left the Avengers to their meal.

They ate, and the conversation shifted to their recent battle and the close calls they had faced. Thor, once again, found his attention divided between the lively discussion and his silent observations of Y/n as the waiter efficiently moved between tables, tending to other people.

He needed to speak with him.

So, when the dinner concluded and Tony paid the bill, leaving a generous tip for Y/n's exceptional service, the group began to make their way out toward the waiting limo. However, Thor lingered behind, his eyes seeking out Y/n, who was clearing a table. Thor made his way over to him.

"Y/n," Thor’s voice was low and serious, causing Y/n to pause in his clearing and looked up at Thor, "a word if you please." 

Y/n straightened up and offered a smile. "Of course, Thor. What can I do for you?"

"I must know, old friend, everything that has happened in your life up until now."

Y/n's smile remained unwavering. "And I'll tell you everything you want to know tomorrow. Meet me in Central Park at twelve o'clock. You and I will catch up."

The thunderous God nodded, feeling satisfied with that arrangement as he placed a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Until tomorrow, my friend. I look forward to it."

As Y/n walked away with dishes in his hands, Thor's eyes trailed after him. Why was his friend working as a server in a human restaurant? What had happened to him in Asgard? And most importantly, why'd he say he 'was once' an Asgardian God? Thor had his suspicions about the last question, but he still needed to get the missing piece of the puzzle from Y/n.

The only plausible explanation for Y/n's situation was that Y/n must have been stripped of his powers and made mortal, much like Odin had done to him before.

But the question remained: why? There were only two ways for a god to lose their powers: either through transferring their consciousness into another mortal body or by having their powers forcibly taken away. Y/n still inhabited the same body for centuries, automatically ruling out the first option. This left Thor with the conclusion that someone must have taken his powers, and he hoped that his dad hadn't been involved in such an act.

Suddenly, the restaurant door opened, and Bruce's voice rang out. "Thor, come on! Tony said you have thirty seconds to get out here or he's telling the limo driver to pull off without you. Let's get moving."

With a playful roll of his eyes at Tony's impatience, Thor followed Bruce out of the restaurant and into the waiting limo.

The limo glided through the city streets on the way back to the Compound, and Thor's thoughts inevitably drifted to Y/n. He recalled the curve of his lips when he smiled, the way the black waiter's attire highlighted his handsome features, and Clint's accusation about having a crush.

Indeed, as Thor had voiced earlier, it was more than a crush. The love he felt for Y/n ran deeper than mere infatuation, and it had only bloomed stronger over time.

One thing's for sure: over the years, Y/n had been the object of Thor's late-night fantasies more times than he cared to admit, even during his semi-relationship with Jane. Y/n was the main reason he couldn't fully commit to her. The thought of having Y/n beneath him, moaning his name while begging for release, was a desire Thor had harbored for some time. 

In Thor's mind, he felt that this was an opportunity given to him. It was clear to Thor that their paths had crossed again for a reason — because they were meant to be together. Why else would they have reconnected now — when Y/n seemingly needed him? It was a sign from the gods. So, he would first speak to Y/n, and then the two could focus on their relationship.

Thor couldn’t wait until tomorrow. 

XXXXX XXXXX

The wait until the next day felt like an eternity for the God of Thunder. He was so ready to see Y/n once more and learn about everything that had transpired in his life recently. He knew that Y/n would be there on time; it was in their nature to honor commitments, no matter how tiny.

Finally, the clock struck twelve, and Thor found himself standing in Central Park. The sun shone brightly, its rays dancing through the leaves of the trees, casting dappled shade on the grass, and a nice breeze stirred in the air. As he ventured further into the park, his eyes spotted a familiar figure sitting at a bench beneath the sprawling branches of a big oak tree.

There, casually leaning back against the bench with one leg casually slung over the other, was Y/n. He looked utterly at ease, dressed in a simple white tee and faded jeans. The outfit accentuated his nice, broad shoulders, and Thor's eyes wandered appreciatively over Y/n’s body.

He looked good.

Real good.

Thor's footsteps quickened, his eagerness to reunite properly with his old friend unmistakable. He knows that he just saw him yesterday, but the short amount of time wasn't enough to satisfy his longing for his company. Y/n noticed Thor approaching and gave him a slight smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Hey, Y/n," Thor greeted, his voice warm and deep. He extended his hand, and Y/n took it, letting Thor pull him into a hug.

"It's good to see you, T-Man," Y/n replied, using the old nickname he had for Thor. Hearing it now made Thor's heart flutter, and he loved the way it rolled off his lips.

Settling onto the bench, Thor's curiosity got the better of him. He knew that Y/n held the answers to the many questions swirling in his mind. So, without further ado, he decided to dive straight into the heart of the matter, forgoing the human tendency to beat around the bush now.

"My dear comrade," Thor began, his eyes locked intensely on Y/n. "You have much to tell me, and I am eager to hear it. How is it that Y/n, son of Hera and Zeus, God of Time, finds himself here on Midgard, serving mortals as a waiter? The last I heard, you were a protector of this realm."

The former God clasped his hands in his lap but he maintained eye contact with Thor. It was always customary to look someone in the eyes when speaking.

"I was the protector of this realm," he confirmed, "But your father and I had our fair share of disagreements. He deemed me reckless and unworthy, and in a fit of anger, he stripped me of my powers and banished me here to Midgard. I've been living as a mortal for almost two years."

A frown marred Thor's handsome features as he listened to Y/n's words, his eyebrows knitting together in anger. Stripped of his powers and exiled here — it was a brutal punishment, one that stirred a protective instinct within the God of Thunder. He knew firsthand the pain of being stripped of one's powers. The idea of Y/n, the mighty God of Time, being reduced to working at a job, was an insult to everything they stood for.

"That old fool!" Thor growled, feeling his anger rising. "To treat you, another God who has served Asgard for thousands of years with such cruelty is an outrage. He cannot keep doing this to people like us," he took Y/n's hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze, and Thor felt a burning desire to set things right. "Rest assured, I'll find a way to have him restore your abilities."

Y/n shook his head. "There's no need for that. I've accepted my fate as a mortal, and in some ways, I enjoy being human."

Thor's eyebrows ascended. "You do?"

Thor's surprise was evident on his face. The tall God remembered all too well the emotions that had consumed him when he was stripped of his powers and sent to Earth — the anger, the bitterness, and the overwhelming sense of tiredness that came with realizing that walking as a mortal was far more challenging than he had anticipated with long distances.

The waiter nodded in confirmation. "I do. There are some drawbacks to being human, like getting tired and injured, and I do miss being able to manipulate time. But being human granted me a freedom I never experienced before," Y/n paused, a faraway look in his eyes as if recalling a fond memory. "And I even found love."

Suddenly, the air in Central Park seemed to grow thick with each passing second. The once-bright sun was now concealed by the gathering of dark storm clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low, menacing growl that echoed through the trees. Additionally, the breeze picked up, carrying the scent of impending rainfalls.

Lightning crackled around the god's left fingertips, a visual manifestation of his rising emotions. His vision darkened at Y/n's words, and he gently withdrew his right hand from Y/n's grasp. Did Y/n just say what he thinks he just said? He had—

Y/n had found love. The word "love" reverberated through Thor like a strike of lightning, sending an unwelcome jolt of awareness through him. Love implied intimacy, tangled limbs, and passionate kisses. The thought of Y/n sharing such closeness with someone else awakened a surge of possessiveness through him.

Sensing the change in the weather, Y/n glanced up, noticing the dark clouds that had gathered. He looked around, seeing people leaving the park, then he turned his gaze to the man sitting next to him.

"Uh, Thor?"

Hearing his name, Thor snapped out of his turbulent thoughts and took a steady breath, consciously calming himself. As a response, the clouds above dissipated, replaced by the hot sun. The harsh wind softened, and the lightning that crackled from his fingertips faded away without a trace. The weather returned to normal.

"Love?" Thor echoed, his tone carefully neutral; he grappled with the unfamiliar emotion swirling within him. He tamped down the spike of jealousy, not wanting to seem possessive or unfair. They had been apart for years now, living separate lives, so what right did he have to claim Y/n's heart? And yet, the thought of Y/n being intimate with a male or a female stirred a possessive hunger deep within him, a feeling he had never experienced before, not even during his brief period with Jane. "Who is this person that has captured your heart?" He dangerously murmured disguised as casual curiosity.

Y/n smiled softly. "Her name is Maya."

"And how did you come to meet Maya?" Thor asked, his tone carefully controlled, even as that name rolled off his tongue like a sweet poison. But he schooled his features, keeping his emotions in check.

"Well, when I was sent to Earth, I found myself in the middle of an open road at night. Maya accidentally hit me with her car, but she took me into her apartment to rest up and recover. We spent a lot of time together, and eventually, we started dating as they say. She's a great woman."

A jaw clenched; Thor's teeth grinded as he forced himself to remain composed. So, Y/n had found love with this... Maya. "I see," his fingers curled into a fist. "And Is she aware of your past?" Y/n nodded silently in response. "Where is she now?"

The h/c-haired male seemed completely oblivious to the undercurrents of Thor’s jealousy as he spoke. "Maya had a hair appointment today, but she should be here soon, and you'll get to meet her."

Can't wait, Thor thought. He needed to see this Maya, to put a face to the name that now felt like a curse on his tongue. But more than that, he wanted to assert his presence, to let Maya know that Y/n was his first and would always belong to him. Furthermore, he would make sure—

"There you are, Y/n!" 

Instantly, Thor's head whipped around to see a female approaching their bench. This must be Maya. Her dark hair fell in loose waves down to her back, perfectly complementing her complexion and her radiant smile. She wore a comfortable denim jeans jumpsuit that hugged her hips, showcasing her curvaceous figure.

"About time you got here," Y/n stood to greet her with a soft smile, leaning down to brush his lips on her cheek. Her arms wrapped around him, and the affection between the couple was as clear as day.

"Sorry, I had to get my coffee. You know how I get," Maya let out a soft chuckle, her eyes widening as she looked over at the person sitting on the bench with her boyfriend. "Y-You're Thor!" she turned to Y/n again. "You did not tell me your old friend was the Thor from the Avengers!"

Y/n held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, you knew I was a god at one point, and that I'd be meeting an old friend. Who's the one, popular god that's currently running around New York City?"

"Still, you could've mentioned it was an Avenger!" Maya exclaimed, turning back to The god, who had been observing the exchange with a neutral expression. She held out her hand for him to shake. "It's so nice to meet you, Thor. I'm a big fan!"

Standing from the bench, Thor's tall and muscular frame towered over Maya, but not Y/n, who stood at a similar height. He shook Maya's hand gently, his gaze flickering briefly to Y/n's. "It's a pleasure to put a face to the name of the woman who has stolen my friend's heart," Thor's voice held an underlying current of quiet possession that the other two didn’t pick up on. "He has told me things about you."

"Oh, has he? Only good things, hopefully."

"I promise, only good things, babe," Y/n assured, his eyes shifting briefly to Thor. "So, Maya and I were just about to go to the carnival. Do you want to tag along?"

The God shook his head. "Thank you for the invitation, but I must decline. I have matters that require my attention back at the Avengers Compound." As much as Thor longed to spend more time with Y/n, he did not want to be a third wheel or see these two being affectionate.

The woman nodded in understanding. "I understand. You have the world to save and all. Perhaps next time if you're free."

"Most definitely," Thor agreed, his eyes following Y/n and Maya as they walked away, with Y/n's left hand in Maya's right.

A frustrated growl rumbled in Thor's throat as he raked a hand through his newly trimmed brown hair. This reunion had not gone as he had envisioned. He had imagined catching up on old times, and perhaps, even confessing his long-held feelings for Y/n. But, unfortunately, Maya's presence had ruined his plans.

The desire to remove this woman from the equation burned within Thor, and he knew there was only one way to do that. However, he understood that any harm brought upon Maya would hurt Y/n, and he didn't want to see his old friend hurt. Therefore, Thor decided to let Maya be.

At least, for now.

XXXXX XXXXX

In all honesty, Thor had been planning to return to the Compound. The thought of witnessing someone else's affection for Y/n was too much to bear. He had turned around, prepared to walk in the opposite direction when he changed his mind.

He turned back, deciding to secretly join Y/n and Maya at the carnival. He needed to see for himself the depth of Maya's love for Y/n when they were together.

The God maintained a discreet distance as he trailed secretly behind Y/n and his unfortunate girlfriend, not wanting them to realize he was following them. A few minutes later, he watched as the couple purchased their admission tickets and walked into the carnival, their hands still entwined. Thor lingered at the entrance, his eyes fixed on their retreating figures.

Thor paused at the entrance of the carnival, his mind formulating a plan. With the money Tony had generously provided, he decided to purchase a cap and sunglasses from the nearby store, employing a tactic he had learned from his time with the Avengers — infiltrating places and staying hidden in plain sight.

After getting his disguise, Thor paid for an admission ticket and stepped inside. 

The carnival was alive with the scent of cotton candy, popcorn, and funnel cake, mingling with both the excited chatter of children and the loud music blaring from speakers. People of all ages were there today, laughing and screaming as they rode roller coasters, tested their luck at games, and snacked on delicious foods.

Hidden behind sunglasses and a black cap, Thor moved with the crowd, his tall frame blending seamlessly into the sea of humans. His sharp eyes scanned the area, searching for the man he desired.

And as Thor navigated the carnival, his frustration mounted with each passing minute. He searched in vain for any sign of the couple, eyes scanning the crowds for Y/n and Maya, but couldn't find them anywhere. Heat started burning in Thor's chest that had nothing to do with the hot weather — but was rather fueled by his rising impatience and possessiveness.

"Damn it, where are they?" He muttered under his breath, irritation in his voice.

Thor quickened his pace.

Dodging between families and groups of teenagers, he walked past the game booths, bumper cars, and food stations.

His determined search finally paid off as he spotted Y/n's distinctive profile at the milk bottle toss game booth, a ball in his hands as he prepared to throw it. Maya stood behind him, holding a sundae cup with two spoons, as she cheered Y/n on.

Adjusting his sunglasses, Thor stepped closer to them. He watched as his friend threw the ball and knocked over a stack of milk bottles with accuracy. That didn’t surprise Thor; Y/n had been a seasoned warrior for thousands of years, after all.

The man behind the booth handed Y/n a stuffed animal—a tan plush dog— which Y/n then gave to Maya. Her smile lit up her face when she received the nice gift.

The couple walked away, sharing the sundae and laughing together. Thor's fists clenched at his sides as he fought the instinct to march over and pull Maya away — to claim what was rightfully his.

Instead, Thor forced himself to maintain a cool and distant demeanor, following his prey. He remained hidden, observing their interactions without them knowing. He kept his distance as the couple rode roller coasters, played more games, and indulged in stupid affectionate gestures. Throughout it all, Thor's anger bubbled, especially when Y/n had the audacity to cup Maya's cheek and kiss her softly.

That did it.

Thor knew he had promised himself that he wouldn't hurt Maya for Y/n's sake, not wanting to see him unhappy. But — after witnessing their interactions throughout the day, something snapped within him, and he didn't care about his promise. He decided that Y/n was meant to be happy with him — and him alone. The thought of anyone else having Y/n's heart was unbearable, and Thor found himself no longer caring about the consequences. He had no choice but to get rid of Maya.

On Friday night, Maya was leaving her workplace alone, while Y/n was at work. The night air was crisp, carrying a hint of a chill, as the streetlights casted orange glows along the pavement. Thor silently followed her. He kept a careful distance, mirroring her movements: walking when she walked, turning the corner when she turned, and stopping when she stopped. He hid when she turned around as if she knew somebody was trailing behind her.

A gust of wind rustled the leaves. Maya shivered from the cool, spring weather and pulled her jacket tighter, quickening her pace considerably. Her eyes glanced but she saw no one there. Unbeknownst to her, the threat loomed closer than ever.

As Maya passed an alleyway, the wind picked up again, and she felt a sense of unease. She stilled, feeling like she was being watched, "H-Hello?" she called out, her voice trembling. "Is someone there?"

Silence answered her, but Maya could've sworn she felt eyes boring into her back. She turned around, but the alleyway was empty. With a sense of unease lingering, she began walking, her steps faster now as she hurried towards the safety of her home, never pausing. Finally, she arrived at her apartment building and sauntered inside, the door closing firmly behind her.

As Maya set her keys down on the table and turned around, she let out a startled gasp at the sight of Thor standing there.

Quickly, Thor locked the top and bottom locks, feeling satisfaction from noticing the fear that flashed through her eyes.

Good, Thor thought, satisfied, be scared.

XXXXX XXXXX

The morning sun's rays filtered through the thin curtains, their warmth caressing Y/n's features, gently waking him up. He stretched languidly, and sat up, yawning. Then, the e/c-eyed man opened his eyes completely and headed to the bathroom.

One of the first things Y/n incorporated into his life as a mortal man was a nice skincare regimen. Maya had explained to him that humans often used facial masks to keep their skin clear and free from acne. In his previous life as a god, Y/n had never had to worry about such concerns, as his skin had always been flawless. Without his powers, however, he now found himself susceptible to the same skin issues that plagued mortals. So, he used these facial skin care masks.

Though Y/n can admit that he quite enjoyed these face masks. The soft texture against his skin was surprisingly wonderful, and the masks worked great.

He feels like his sister, Aphrodite.

After completing his morning routine, he grabbed his phone and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee, already prepared, as he dialed Maya's number. The ringing tone echoed aloud and was greeted by her voicemail.

The phone heading straight to voicemail didn't entirely surprise Y/n. He knew that she loved sleeping in after a hectic work week. He decided to pay her a surprise visit since he had been given a spare key.

Y/n opened the door and was prepared to step through it when his feet paused and looked down, suddenly noticing the white envelope on the ground. Frowning in confusion, he bent down to pick it up, his eyes scanning the words inscribed on the envelope: "To Y/n, From Maya."

Intrigued, Y/n opened the envelope, his eyes reading over the paragraph, and the frown on Y/n’s features deepened. Huh—

The note read: My dearest Y/n,

Hope all is going well. I just wanted you to know that you’ll always have a special place in my heart, and our relationship is the best thing that ever happened to me.

It pains me to say this, but, to be honest, I have fallen out of love. Our relationship has run its course, and I think we are no longer meant to be. My love for you has faded like a flower wilting under the sun.

Please know that this was an incredibly difficult decision for me, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

I wish you nothing but happiness. May you continue to find love and fulfillment in life. And who knows, maybe our paths will cross again when we least expect it. Until that happens tho, farewell, my love.

With a heart full of memories,

Maya. 

The note left Y/n stunned and confused. Maya had seemed happy and content in their relationship. How could she just fall out of love and walk away like this? It didn't make sense to him in the least. There's no way this letter could be real.

What—? Huh—? More questions plagued his mind as he couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and hurt. What had he done wrong? Had he pushed her away without realizing it? Or was there someone else?

Shaking his head, Y/n left his apartment building and headed straight for Maya's place. He needed to hear the reason for her decision from her own mouth, rather than reading it on a piece of paper. That wasn't fair to him and he deserved more.

Y/n's footsteps echoed hurriedly against the pavement as he hurried along the streets, rounding corners and navigating crosswalks. Finally, he arrived at Maya's place and hastily knocked on the door.

There was no response.

Then, Y/n inserted the spare key into the lock, twisted it, and marched inside. He stepped further into the room and called out to Maya when he noticed something.

Maya's apartment was empty.

It was completely devoid of her personal belongings — no furniture, decorations, nothing at all. He searched every room, drawer, and closet, but found no trace of her here. It was as if she never lived here.

Y/n pulled out his phone and tried to call Maya again — but it just went straight to voicemail. The realization sank in — this letter wasn't a joke or a prank. Maya had surely left him, and she hadn't even had the decency to do it in person or provide a proper explanation for her decision.

It was a hurtful and callous way to end their relationship. That's so messed up.

Y/n's hands balled into fists at his sides, the letter crumpling within his grasp. He felt a prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes, and he realized that he was experiencing two very human emotions:

Crying and heartbreak.

Y/n knew that gods experience human emotions such as crying, too. But now that Y/n was human, the experience felt different. In that moment, he understood the depths of his feelings for Maya. This was why mortals spoke of love as both a blessing and a curse — it can give you joy but could also inflict unbearable pain.

He exited Maya's apartment building, the crumpled letter still clutched in his hand, a tangible reminder of what he had lost. His eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, were facing downward as he walked, his thoughts consumed by these emotions. It was this lack of focus that caused him to accidentally bump into someone else, knocking their umbrella from their hand.

Crouching down, Y/n wrapped his hand around the umbrella to pick it up, but he found that he couldn't. Y/n bent down to retrieve the fallen umbrella, however, to his surprise, he found that he couldn't lift it. He tried with both hands this time, but the umbrella remained stubbornly out of reach. Jeez, this simple umbrella feels as hard as trying to lift Thor's hammer—

Wait a minute.

Y/n's eyes drifted upward, and he found Thor standing there, which means this umbrella was Thor's hammer in disguise.

"Oh, hi, Thor." Y/n’s voice came out soft, despite the emotions currently coursing through his mind, releasing his hold on the hammer. "Might want to pick that up."

Thor complied, lifting the hammer, eyes fixed on Y/n's e/c eyes. "Are you okay?"

Y/n’s response was quick. "Yes, I’m fine." 

Unconvinced by Y/n's fake composure, Thor placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. "You know you don't have to pretend to be okay when it comes to me. You can tell me anything."

Finally, Y/n conceded. "Maya left me. Out of the blue, she broke things off and disappeared, and I don't understand why."

Thor's eyes softened, and he pulled Y/n into a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry to hear that," his voice was, unknowingly, laced with feigned sympathy. "That lady doesn't deserve the honor of your love."

Unbeknownst to Y/n, a smirk played on Thor's lips, his eyes gleaming with a mix of vindication and triumph. He didn't like seeing Y/n in pain, but it was necessary.

The pain was only temporary, and Y/n would eventually get over this simple mortal. Then, there would be room for Thor, and they could finally be together.

In the weeks that followed, Y/n slipped into a deep depression. He spent most days lying in bed, thoughts consumed by the memories of Maya. He questioned everything, from his own worthiness to the nature of love itself. He didn't get it. Why had she left? Was he truly enough? These thoughts ate away at him — like maggots devouring the flesh of the dead.

Additionally, the only thing that stirred him from his bleak existence was his work. The familiarity of the restaurant, the mechanical tasks of serving tables, provided a fleeting sense of normalcy.

And throughout it all, there was only one person who was there for him — Thor.

The God of Thunder checked in on him regularly, offering words of comfort and support for his pal. He brought takeout, watched movies with him, and listened as the man poured out his heart, sharing his heartbreak and confusion. Thor was a great presence during his time of need.

In Thor's presence, he found himself smiling more. His appetite returned, and the dark circles under his eyes gradually faded. Y/n felt a little like himself again.

One evening, after Y/n finished his shift at the restaurant, he found himself with Thor in his bedroom. A movie played in the back, but they were too engrossed in conversation to pay attention to it. Thor had asked Y/n about his deepest desire.

"Well, being here on Earth for a long time made me desire love the most," was his admission as Y/n thought back to when he thought he had found love. "It seems that love is the emotion humans desire the most. I guess I'm one of them too."

Thor's eyes roamed over Y/n's face as if searching for something. And then, with deliberate slowness, he leaned in closer, his thumb gently stroking the back of Y/n's hand, sending shivers down his spine.

"I can give you the love you crave, Y/n," Thor murmured, voice deep and husky, his thumb continuing its gentle caress.

Y/n sat up straighter, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He grabbed the remote and turned off the television, their conversation now the sole focus.

"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.

"I mean," Thor's voice rumbled. "I can show you what it means to be desired."

Y/n opened his mouth to ask the man to elaborate when Thor surged forward, his left hand cupping the back of Y/n’s neck and capturing his lips in a brutal kiss. Y/n gasped into the kiss as Thor's tongue, invaded his mouth, tasting and claiming, leaving no doubt about his intentions. 

E/c eyes widened in surprise at this, but Y/n didn’t immediately pull away. Thor's kiss was demanding, possessive as his free arm wrapped around Y/n, placing a hand on his back, pulling him closer. Y/n could feel Thor's hardness against his left thigh, straining against the fabric of his pants, and he moaned into the kiss.

Suddenly, Y/n pulled away slightly, breathless. "Thor, I—"

"Shh," Thor placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. "You want this, Y/n. You want my touch, my possession. Admit it, and I'll give you the love that you desire. You’ll forget all about that mortal, Maya." 

Stunned by this turn of events, Y/n could only manage a breathless, "Alright," he knew that he did crave this intimacy and always found Thor attractive. He wanted to feel that type of intimacy once more.

Suddenly, he felt the powerful urge to assert his agreement more physically, more explicitly. So, he pushed Thor onto his back, straddling his muscular thighs.

A devilish smile curved Thor's lips as he tugged on Y/n's shirt, eager to taste the body of the guy that he had daydreamed about countless times. With a sharp tug, buttons flew across the room, revealing smooth skin and toned muscles beneath.

"Dangerous move, little waiter," Thor murmured, his hands roaming across Y/n's chest, thumbs grazing perky nipples that tightened, hardened from his touch. "Now, I get to have my way with you."

Then, Thor trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along Y/n's jawline and down his neck. His teeth scraped gently over Y/n's pulse point, nipping and sucking until a dark bruise formed. Y/n's breath hitched as Thor's hand glided lower, his fingers tracing the waistband of his sweatpants.

"You like it when I touch you, don't you?" Thor whispered, his hot breath fanning across Y/n's ear, "Tell me what you want."

Y/n craned his neck to allow Thor better access to his neck and shoulders. "I... I want you to touch me, Thor. Everywhere."

Thor didn’t need a further invitation. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of Y/n's pants, exploring the terrain of his six-pack abs before dipping lower. Y/n arched his back, his breath catching as calloused fingers brushed against the length of his already long, stiff cock.

"You're so hard for me, little one," Thor murmured, fingers teasing the outline of Y/n's length before pulling away. "I want to see it. Want to watch it throb for me."

With trembling fingers, Y/n removed his pants, sliding the fabric down his legs, along with his boxers. His cock twitched eagerly, the head already glistening with pre-cum. He had never been so aroused, so desperate to be touched and taken.

Thor's eyes darkened with desire as he reached for Y/n's cock, stroking it firmly, his right thumb teasing the sensitive slit. "That's it, my beautiful God. Let me see you. Show me how much you want this."

The former God's lips parted on a moan, his hips involuntarily bucking into Thor's hand quickly. "Please, Thor... don't stop."

Thor smirked, the possessive gleam in his eyes undeniable. "I plan to take this much further.  But first, I want a taste..."

And with that, Thor leaned down, his hot breath tickling the head of Y/n's cock before his tongue darted out, licking a thick stripe up the underside. Y/n cried out, his hips jerking at the unexpected pleasure, and Thor chuckled, the sound vibrating against Y/n's sensitive flesh.

"So responsive," Thor murmured, his lips wrapping around Y/n's hardness as he sucked and teased with practiced skill.

Y/n threaded his fingers through Thor's hair, his head falling back as sensations bombarded him. Thor's tongue swirled and twirled, his lips sucking on his cock, driving Y/n wild with need. He looked up at Y/n through his eyelashes, reveling in the sight of his pleasure-clouded eyes, and he sucked Y/n's length deep into his mouth, his hands caressing Y/n's thighs, thighs that now tremble with anticipation.

"Please, Thor," Y/n begged, his voice raw with need. "I want to feel you inside me."

Thor released Y/n's cock from his mouth with a lewd pop, saliva dripping from his lips as his fingers unfastened his pants. "Time to see what a real god looks like."

Thor sat up, his eyes flashing with promise as he slowly revealed his thick, veiny cock. Y/n's mouth went dry at the sight, his own spent cock twitching with some renewed interest. Reaching inside the nightstand, Thor discovered a bottle of lube and slicked up his cock for Y/n.

"Damn, Thor, that's huge," Y/n whispered his gaze devouring every inch of Thor's masculine glory. "Even bigger than mine."

A smug grin stretched across Thor's face as he pushed Y/n back against the bed, kicking off his pants in the process. "Get a good look at this and commit this to your memory and your heart, because I intend to make you scream my name."

With that promise ringing in the air, Thor climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between Y/n’s thighs and lining up the tip of his cock with his entrance. 

"Tell me you want this, Y/n. Tell me you want me to fill you up." Thor's voice was low and commanding, his eyes intense.

Y/n nodded eagerly, his breath coming in short gasps. "Yeah, Thor. I want you. Please, take me. I need you inside me."

Hmm, Thor mused and pressed forward, his thick cock breaching Y/n with a slow, relentless thrust. Y/n cried out, his back arching off the bed as he was stretched wider than Y/n could remember. Thor paused, giving him a moment to adjust, but the reprieve was simply short-lived.

Thor began moving, his powerful thrusts driving Y/n into a euphoric haze. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound joined by the lewd slapping of skin and Y/n's loud moans as Thor’s hips moved.

"That's it, take it," The God of Thunder let out a growl, hands gripping Y/n's hips to gain better leverage. "You feel too good wrapped around my cock. I've dreamed of this... dreamed of claiming you, babe."

Y/n's eyes squeezed shut as he clung to Thor, his nails digging into the tall God's broad shoulders. "Oh, Thor, right there," he gasped, his entire body trembling on the edge of release. "Damn, I'm so close."

Thor's pace quickened, breath coming in hot, ragged gasps. "Open your eyes and look at me," he demanded, causing Y/n's eyes to snap open, his gaze locking with Thor's, and the Avenger's hand found his cock once again. "You make me feel like a true God. I could fuck you forever, but right now, I want you to come for me."

"Oh... fuck..." 

In response to Thor's words, Y/n's body tightened like a coil, and he came with a hoarse cry, his release coating Thor’s fingers. Then, Thor emptied himself into Y/n, his hips stuttering as he rode out his orgasm, painting Y/n’s ass hole in ribbons of white. He maintained eye contact with Y/n the whole time. Mine.

Panting and sweaty, Thor pulled out of Y/n and they collapsed against the bed, hearts beating fast from their encounter.

Thor pressed a tender kiss to Y/n's lips, his hands stroking the sweat-dampened skin of Y/n's torso. "You're incredible, Y/n. We were always meant to be together."

This was a known fact, and tonight was simply proof of their love for each other. Now, he needed to make sure Maya was fully out of the picture (Thor forced her to write that note to Y/n, and had set up a secret camera in Y/n's apartment, the footage transmitted to a hidden monitor in another location where he kept Maya chained and captive). Now that she had seen the love between them, he would tell Heimdall to execute her, ensuring she posed no threat to their happiness again.

Now, all that remained was for Odin to restore Y/n's powers. Then, they would be together forever, unburdened by the constraints that mortality has on people.

Just as it was meant to be. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thor—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better get used to it, babe.”

ϟ

You had spent most of your life working within the palace walls, Mother Linda had specifically made sure that you worked far from others and had little to no interaction with anyone of high status. You were of low birth and was brought to the palace as a child to trade for food and some silver so that your parents could pay your older brother’s dowry for his wife. You’d spent most of your childhood under Mother Linda's care, learning how to be a proper servant with little to no flaws. No matter how well you performed, your status as someone who originates from low birth meant that you were often seen as an eyesore to the nobles who were allowed to roam within the palace walls. The other girls you grew up with were sent to the palace by their families who felt that they weren’t needed until they were old enough to be married off for personal gains. Some sons were even sent to live here and work as grounds keepers, soldiers, or a knight if they were lucky. 

You’d spent most of your morning going around and collecting the bed sheets so you could wash them while the house maids cleaned the many rooms before the Crown Prince’s return. The kingdom had been at war for the better part of 2 years now and his victory greatly pleased the people. His highness fought alongside the great neighboring kingdom’s Crown Prince Loki, the two kingdoms were once at war themselves, but after King Odin saved and returned Crown Prince Loki from a group of rogue bandits that were known for terrorizing the outskirts where the two kingdoms met, both the Kings came together and made a treaty and the peace that came with the treaty greatly helped both the people from Asgard and Sakaar. 

After you finished gathering the sheets from the rooms, you quickly washed them and hung them up onto the clothing lines. Because you had finished your job earlier than usual, Mother Linda had you help the gardeners harvest some of the vegetables from the royal garden and help cook as well since one of the kitchen maids had recently given birth, leaving the kitchen short staffed. After you finished helping with the other chores you had to go and gather the now dried sheets from the lines, fold them, and take them to the chambermaids.

On your way back to help finish things in the kitchen, you ran into Annalise who was greatly favored by Crown Prince Thor for her beauty. She was once a young and innocent maid who, like you, hoped to one day save enough money to buy her freedom and escape the palace walls. Her parents were rich merchants who sold her to the palace after she refused to marry the son of another rich merchant. Annalise was known by all the maids for being strong willed and smart, she wanted her own independence and most of all, she wanted to marry for love, but one day she was assigned to help tend to Crown Prince Thor and that was the beginning of her doom. Although Crown Prince Thor was known to be obsessed with Annalise, he was also a gentleman and never touched her inappropriately, but he did make Annalise's dreams of buying her freedom impossible. Annalise was said to be greatly in love with a stable boy who mysteriously disappeared after they tried to run away together after news that Crown Prince Thor had been given her contract to make her his own personal maid so that she would be by his side every second of everyday.

"Y/N! She'd be perfect!" Annalise had silently whispered under her breath, unable to hear her properly, you perked up at the slight catch of your name being mentioned, "I'm sorry?" Annalise looked at you and paused, she thought for a moment and suddenly grabbed your shoulders, turning you around and looking at you from every angle. "Y/n, are you doing anything right now? Actually, never mind that, I need your help with stripping the rooms. Clement came up with a cold after her punishment and I need someone capable!" You stood there slightly stunned and panicked, you were unqualified to work jobs so close to the people of high statuses. Before listening to your answer and taking advantage of your frozen state, Annalise grabbed your hand and dragged you towards her private quarters that was close to the Crown Prince's wing.

You snapped out of your trance once Annalise suddenly started to undress you, "What are you doing!?" Annalise frowned and pointed towards a beautiful gown placed on her bed, "You cannot wear such unpresentable clothes in front of the royals, you can borrow my dress but you have to wash before wearing it to avoid getting it dirty." Annalise had light droplets of sweat falling along the side of her face and had a look of desperation, you faltered and nodded after her explanation. Once Annalise had taken you into the bath to wash she suddenly left you alone and quickly returned with a shaver. You looked at her questionably but she stumbled on her words and explained, "I do not want to risk finding any of your foreign hair on my undergarments after you return it, plus shaving your nether regions will provide you with more freedom!" Although Annalise did not make sense, you bobbed your head and allowed her to shave all the hair on your body, you were as hairless as the day you were born and felt your cheeks grow hot from the embarrassment of another person seeing your body, the only other living being on earth who'd seen you this bare was Mother Linda when she took care of you as a child.

Annalise quickly finished your bath and as she was dressing you, you began to realize that the dress was a little too beautiful for simply stripping bedrooms, the other maid that you saw whenever you came to collect or return sheets never wore anything this fancy, "Annalise, I do not think this dress is appropriate...it's too beautiful, I think it best if I wear the same dresses that the other maids wear..." Annalise frowned and smacked your mouth to punish you for talking rudely towards someone with higher status. "You will not be stripping just any room, did you not listen to me earlier? You will be stripping the rooms of the royals! While I strip the Prince's room, you will be stripping the Crown Prince's room." You hung your head down and nodded, your mouth stung from how hard Annalise smacked you, she looked at you and paused for a moment, she sighed, "I will not apologize for punishing you, but I will apologize for how hard I smacked you, I am under a lot of stress, so please do not take offense." You nodded again and did your best to suck back the tears threatening to slip out.

After Annalise finished getting you ready, she led you to a large room and instructed you to fix the room up. “Make sure that before the Crown Prince comes drink this, it is important you do not forget to drink it!” Annalise placed the drink of unknown substance onto the table by the bed. She then quickly left to go work in a different room. As you were cleaning and reorganizing the room, you began to find it more and more odd, the more you looked around the more it seemed that this was not a guest room, there were personal belongings, books, and even a few pieces of clothes that were in the closet, although it made you uneasy, you choose to ignore the odd feeling, these could just be complimentary items to help make guests feel more comfortable and welcomed, after all the neighboring Crown Prince Loki was quite close to the royal family and often visited.

...

Every now and then you would hear some faint noises of cheering from the festivities of the Crown Princes’ victorious return. The celebration had started not long before the sun began to set. You lit candles as it got darker, but the room was still very dim. After you finished changing the bed sheets, you gathered the old covers and placed them beside the door to remember to take them later as you left. As you were finishing up, you saw something sticking out from under the bed, you got down on all fours and tried to retrieve the item. Suddenly the bedroom door slammed open. Startled, you jumped and bumped your head harshly into the hard wooden bottom frame of the bed.

“You’ve gotten smaller my minx.” A rough voice came from the door. As you scrambled to get up without hitting your head again, loud thundering footsteps made their way to you before stopping behind you as large rough hands suddenly gripped your waist and heaved you back against a large warm frame. Panicked at the sudden contact, you began to thrash as you tried to free yourself of the stranger’s hold. The stranger suddenly yank you around and you were suddenly faced with a face you’d only seen from afar.

“You’re not Annalise...who are you?!” Crown Prince Thor roared at you and pushed you to the ground aggressively as you felt dread wash over you. As your hip throbbed from its impact against the hard floor you tried your best to scramble onto your knees and tried to beg for your life, afraid that you had offended the Prince by not finishing earlier so that Annalise could come and greet him. 

“Please your highness, I am so sorry, please show mercy.” Prince Thor kicked your side while he laughed maniacally, but all you heard was the ringing in your ears from the impact your head had made with the floor from his harsh kick to your side. He suddenly stopped laughing and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your face up and forcing you to stare him in the eyes.

“Where is Annalise and why are you wearing her dress?” The ringing in your ears got louder, your vision that was blurred from your tears only worsened with black spots that were starting to block your vision.

“I...I...am working..in Clement's...place...your-" You stumbled and squeaked over your words as you panicked and almost swallowed your tongue that had suddenly become too big for your mouth. Thor lifted you up onto your feet by your hair and bent his face towards you to inspect it.

"Clement? Are you her replacement?" Thor asked with an odd tone before he suddenly released your hair and dropped you back onto the ground after something caught his eye, he walked over to whatever it was. You had forgotten all about it until Thor raised the drink that Annalise had instructed you to drink before the crown prince's arrival. While inspecting it, Thor took a quick sniff of the drink and snapped his attention to you. "Thinking to try the same dirty tricks as her too I see..." Thor stared you down like a predator ready to kill its prey. Feeling afraid, you tried to sprint towards the door that led out of the room, but with both your head pounding and hip throbbing from painful impacts with the floor, you were unsuccessful in your attempted escape and ended up stepping onto the hem of Annalise's dress, causing you to fall and land all your weight onto your wrist, resulting in a 'pop' sound. Thor threw his head back and bellowed out a rambunctiously mocking laugh. He roughly grabbed the back of Annalise's dress and tore it straight down along your whole back, with the back now missing the front of the dress gave way and fell, revealing your breasts to the bite of the cool air.

You screamed as you felt rough hands grip your waist and haul you onto the bed, Thor climbed on top of you before the blink of an eye. Like a madman, he began barbarically gripping onto the dress in random places and tearing it off of you in bits and pieces. You tried to cover yourself with your arms as you screamed and pleaded for help, your screams seemed to please and drive Thor further as he bent over your exposed body and bit your shoulder hard enough to pierce your skin, painting his mouth and face with the deep crimson of your blood. "Scream as much as you'd like whore, no one will come to the aid of a scheming wench like you." Thor grabbed onto your hands and tied them onto the bed's headboard using strips of cloth he'd ripped from the dress.

With your body bare, save for a few scraps of the dress still doing its best to hang onto your body, Thor's mouth travelled down along your body from his bite on your shoulder, to the valley between your breasts, skimming along your stomach, and towards your freshly shaven pussy. You kicked your legs wildly after feeling him bite down onto your inner thigh, just shy of your vulnerable pussy. Thor's large arms wrapped around each thigh, holding them in place on each shoulder and framing his face just right for full access and view of your quivering pussy; he moaned a deep breathless sound from the back of his throat at what he saw before him, "Oh what a sight, such a beautiful cunt, such a shame to not have a taste before I destroy it." Thor teased you with light kitten-like licks on your pussy lips, his tongue barely grazing over your blooming clit that began to come out of hiding. He chuckled darkly after your body jumped after he cruelly gave your pussy a fright with a sudden full force lick, placing just the right amount of pressure onto your clit as he expertly worked his tongue across it.

Your mind clouded from the pleasure being forced onto your body, you bent your head back and moaned as you experienced new feelings you'd never known before. Seeing that you were distracted, Thor stuck his tongue into your weeping hole, at the new feeling you gasped for air and keened at the odd sensation that overcame you from feeling something intrude inside you for the first time ever. The pressure of unknown feeling began to overtake you, making you worry for your sanity. Seeing you at a mental war, Thor tighten his right arm around your leg to reach for your engorged clit and began rubbing it as his tongue continued its exploration of your insides, you felt a snap from the pit of your stomach as your pussy clenched around his tongue and your back arched, throwing your head to the side and screaming your release into the sheets and blankets surrounding you.

After coming down from your intense orgasm, Thor released your legs and took advantage of your clouded state of mind to undress himself and free his pre-cum leaking cock. You tried to gather yourself and thoughts but it was too late to realize that Thor's thick cock was kissing your sweet pussy, mixing his pre-cum with your slick. Thor gripped your hips with his rough hands, holding you in place and thrusting into you in one go as your eyes widened and you screamed louder than the day you took your first breath of air outside your mother's womb.

Thor paused and stared at where you two were connected with an incredulous look, "You were a maiden?" He tilted his head and let out a breathless chuckle of disbelief, "It seems even virginal women have no respect for themselves these days" Thor shook his head and released your hips from his tight hold, he covered your body with his as he placed his arms on each side of your weeping form. Thor stuck his tongue out and licked your cheek covered tears, he groaned at the taste and began to pull himself out of you before violently thrusting back into your over stretched pussy.

Thor continued his assault on your body for what seemed like hours, your mind slowly began to cloud again with pleasure as your cries turned into moans and whimpers of confused lustful need. Thor had dumped bucket-fulls of cum into you, causing the room to fill with the sound of your mix-liquids squelching each time his hips drove back down to thrust into your cock-hungry pussy. You looked to your side and saw that many of the new candles you'd lite had completely melted and were long dead.

As the night went on and dawn neared, Thor suddenly raised back up, straightening his back and gripped onto your hips as his thrust became erratic and his groans got louder, you knew that he was about to snap again as well. Thor caught sight of your mixed fluids creating spiderwebs each time his cock pulled away, only to be pulled back into your awaiting cunt, he threw his head back and groaned loudly in pleasure. He bent forwards and untied your bleeding wrists from the bed's frame, pulling you towards him and forcing you to look down at the glorious sight he'd seen, "This is what you wanted, for your crown prince to fuck and destroy your cunt, to take your maidenhood and release you back into the world as the true whore that you really are." You had cried yourself dry of tears and could only shake your head in protest, his words couldn't be more wrong, but all you could do was whimper out silent 'no's as he continued to fuck and treat you as a prostitute until he pulled back and jammed back into you with one final thrust, slamming right against a certain patch of nerves in your cunt and causing your eyes to roll back as you felt like you'd just peed yourself, you'd cum'ed many times throughout the night but this one had been the most intense out of them all due to the overstimulated feeling of your used cunt mixed with Thor roughly pressing against your g-spot as he slammed back in the last time. "Oh fuck me, did you just squirt? What a truly nasty whore you are..." Thor gripped the back of your head and forced your head back to spit into your mouth, covering it and your nose with his hand, only moving it to allow you to breathe once he saw that you swallowed his spit reluctantly in order to fill your lungs with air.