#𝙜𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧. main

[othunderous]

all he can hear is panting, the suckle of lips, the groan of the mattress beneath them with each shift of weight. elbows support him as he idles over her, hesitant to lower himself. though he yearns for that contact, to feel the press of her against his body. they’ve shared heated moments before, but there had always been a reason not to take it farther than breathless, wanting kisses. now there is no danger lurking around the corners, there is no reason to remain alert & focused. the only reason to stop is her; she will be ready when she is ready, and if she isn’t, that is fine. going at her pace and awaiting the moment she decides she wants more doesn’t stop him from 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄, though. so he does lower himself, one hand angling downward to grab at her waist, partially lifting her, encouraging her legs to wrap ‘round him. when he rolls his hips into hers, a moan releases against her mouth, and he does it again.

“rey—“ in between passionate kisses, he sighs. blood is rushing to all the right places, the pent up energy of the last few weeks ready to release. but he pauses, parts just enough that their lips merely brush together. “i think. . . maybe we should—“

@lightsiided ❝  i wanna do more than just kiss you goodnight.  ❞

faint surprise etches itself across his face, but his gaze deepens with lust. so much is still happening— pain still lingers day to day. part of his mind pleads that to do more would be wrong, selfish. how is this what he is thinking of when the world— many worlds— are in dismay? the other part recognizes it as natural. in fact. . . it would ease the ever present tightness in his body, momentarily dull his whirlwind of thoughts. it is a good place to direct everything he’s felt. the hand not holding her up cups her face, thumb caressing her cheek bone, fingers pushing back into her hair.

“are you sure?” he doesn’t doubt that she knows what she wants and knows whether she is ready or not; that isn’t for him to decide. still, he can’t help but pose the question. “if you’re sure, well. . .” leaning in again, he kisses her, his lips dragging along her jaw— the opposite side of where he cradles her. “i would love to do more. much, much more.” when he makes his way to her neck, there is the gentlest tug of her hair; the kisses he leaves along her neck are wet. “𝙞’𝙡𝙡 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙚.”

[othunderous]

heavy is the silence that falls around the tent. most of the eyes surrounding them are trained uncomfortably on the floor, or flitting to neighbors to gauge their reaction— they look anywhere but at the 3 people in the center of the room.  thor, rey. . .  and ben.  a hand is clasped none - too - gently around his arm; a more delicate touch finds thor’s chest, though he doesn’t look away from ben.  the tension is palpable, the loathing apparent.  the distrust, the fear; they are at each others’ throats like long - time enemies.  thor can’t tell which emotion is the strongest.

awful memories rise to the surface of his mind.  when last he was left out of a fight involving the two of them. . .  he had almost lost her forever.  it had been ben’s doing.  is it worse— now that he has begun to gain trust and earn the respect of their friends?  thor thinks so.  to lose to an enemy is one thing; to dare begin to see and accept the light only to be betrayed is devastating.  thor isn’t intent on reliving the past.

to go along against their wishes, refusing to cooperate, would slow them down.  not all problems can be solved with brute force, a strike of lightning.  he knows that.  two sides of the same prophecy combining their powers, simply, makes more sense.  it is quicker, more efficient.  it doesn’t mean he likes it.  but all know, surely, the depths of his distaste for the dyad.

merely thinking it twists & coils at his stomach: they share something he will never understand.  they share something he can’t protect her from.  before, ben had had the chance to handle her mind with care.  instead he chose to punish her.  thor isn’t likely to forgive and forget— made evident by the rage that burns along the surface of his skin, the jerk that brings ben’s face closer to his own.  distant, quiet, thunder rumbles amongst a rainstorm outside.

“this is a chance to prove yourself,” thor starts, his voice gruff.  “for your own sake, i hope— sincerely— that you take that chance to restore the faith in you that has long since been lost.  the alternative will cost you your life.  if you betray her, if you allow anything to happen to her—“

@lightsiided : nothing will take me away from you.

though he fights it, he lets his eyes shift to rey’s face.  beyond the reassurance, he sees the pleading in her eyes.  the sound of her voice is soothing.  a coolant to his fire.  looking into the face he loves threatens to soften him, to weaken the angry exterior to expose something much more vulnerable beneath.  the falter is visible on thor’s face, audible in his exhale.  the feather-light trail of fingers along his arm doesn’t help.

“if you allow anything to happen to her,” he repeats, returning his attention to ben, “nothing will stand between you and i.  i want to ensure that you understand me completely: she is the only thing that has kept you safe thus far.  should something happen to her, nothing will stop me.”

thor remains as he is a moment longer, his eyes locked on ben’s.  the rage has dissolved, leaving behind only knowing.  a cold finality.  as surely as he draws his next breath and hears his pulse in his ears, he knows the violence that will follow any harm coming to his wife.  carelessly— with a light shove— ben is released, and thor steps back.  he eyes everyone around them, before his gaze settles on rey again.

he is only ever soft with her.  all the love returns to him as he turns into her touch, at last.  the press of his fingers to her arm is soft.  “will you come find me, before the two of you leave?  i would like to have a moment alone to say goodbye.”

[othunderous]

nothing special stands out about today.  the sun shines over his home, the flowers in the garden dance in the light breeze; from the window in the bedroom he watches, an easy smile on his face.  breakfast is prepared, he sees his wife off to start her day— stepping back inside after he’s watched her descend the path that leads to their home, he thinks to begin readying himself for his own duties.  caring for an entire planet is hardly new.  nor is the luxury of having helping hands.  still, it keeps him busy, occupies much of his mind at any given moment.

but a flash from his kitchen distracts him.  that he is at once alert and retrieving stormbreaker from where it sits idly against the wall speaks for itself: it’s not only out of the ordinary, but alarming.  who could possibly—?  their home is under protection at all times.  quietly as he’s able, thor carries himself through the hallway, rounds into the kitchen. . .

and stops.  the years have begun to stretch longer and longer, but he recognizes the sight in an instant.  wide eyed shock grips him, freezes him where he stands, brings a rapid pound to his heart.  they had searched, and found nothing. . .  thor had finally begun putting them to rest, after so long. . .  no.  it can’t be.  his mind deceives him.  this is a trick.  loki was not the only one skilled in the ways of deceptive magic.

yet no words come out to sling the accusations, to deny what he sees.  thor’s breath only stutters, his mind racing to make sense of what cannot possibly be real.

@emeraldxphoenix

[othunderous]

it never gets easier, having to be away from one another.  some days, thor thinks it only gets worse, as more time passes.  all throughout the incredible journey of watching their children grow, they’d rarely separated.  it never felt right, leaving for council or a fight while she remained at home with four of them to look after.  even as they’d aged into their own people, independent, more able to care for themselves— thor supposes he’s never wanted to miss a second of it.  god or not, none know how much time they have.  even a single moment wasted elsewhere isn’t worth it.

but they both knew, eventually, they would not be needed by the lives they’ve created as they once were.  no longer small and helpless, no longer oblivious to the universe around them. . .  and there will always be another battle.  they knew, eventually, they would be pulled apart by events beyond their control.  while leia & frigga are becoming capable young women, the boys are still young; leaving only their sisters to supervise them would surely lead to disaster.  thor had offered to stay behind.

the week doesn’t pass as slowly as he’d anticipated, but his wife’s absence is still felt.  his time is occupied caring for freyr and reginn, keeping their active minds and bodies busy.  leia offers much help, while frigga is quieter without her mother’s presence.  he understands; nothing is particularly wrong, but it doesn’t feel right to be without her.  he watches her now, leaning over her plate of half-eaten breakfast as sunlight streams into their kitchen.  a fork absently pushes the food around.  leia and reginn have finished— rather quickly, he always notes with amusement— whilst freyr takes his time.  rey should be home soon.  the anticipation buzzes in the air around them.  a light excitement.

“reginn,” thor addresses as he rises from his seat, his plate in hand.  he crosses the table and sets it down in front of his son.  “once frigga and freyr have finished— i do believe today is your turn to clean up.”  reginn sighs, shoulders slumping.  “then i want to see you outside.  for training.”

“can i come watch?”  leia perks up.  she is next to thor’s now vacant seat.  “i like it when he messes up.”  the smile she flashes is lightheartedly spiteful, and cannot go unpunished; reginn plucks two grapes from his brother’s plate and throws them at his sister.

“i’m still eating that,” freyr protests, sporting the same forcefully neutral face thor often wears when he is annoyed.

“you’re one to talk,” reginn counters.  thor can see how he tries not to smile.  “i don’t think i need to remind you what happened last time uncle loki visited.”

the gasp that follows is broken apart by a laugh, and merely watching them, thor feels pleasantly warm all over.  “that’s hardly a fair comparison!  how could i have possibly been expected to. . .”  as she trails off, thor is moving about the island, and the sudden silence brings pause.  looking between the four of them, all sound and movement has stopped.  their heads lift, their eyebrows pulling in concentration.  he’s seen it enough times to know what it means.  something is about to happen.

“mum’s home.”  frigga’s tone is content as she speaks it, and she slowly hops out of her seat.  not a handful of moments later, and they can see her approaching through the windows and the open door that leads outside.  thor can’t help the smile that pulls at his mouth.

making his way to the door, the conversation behind him continues, freyr returns to eating, and frigga follows.  she lingers in the doorway as he exits, taking in the sight of his wife beneath the sunlight.  the day on hyperkarn is beautiful; the sky is blue and bright, few clouds across its expanse; the breeze that ruffles the grass and trees is gentle.  yet all of his focus narrows down to her.  all this time later— more than three decades— and she still makes the heart in his chest flutter just by looking at him.  

they are in each others’ arms in seconds.  thor, amidst his delighted laughter, lifts her from her feet and holds her tightly to him.  her answering squeezes tighten his throat, but the smile on his face doesn’t lessen.  where he stands, he spins them once before setting her back down, though his arms don’t unwind from her.  he doesn’t have the chance to straighten his back before his face is caught between both her hands, pulling him toward her, drowning him in kisses that leave his cheeks flushed.

@lightsiided: i missed you. every second. every breath.

each word is rushed between the kisses; beneath the press of rey’s fingers, his smile widens until it aches.  at last she catches his mouth, and as he returns her kiss— loving, affectionate, brimming with joy— he can at last feel himself settle.  there is no more longing nor worrying.  she’s here.  his heart has come back to him.  

“as i,” he kisses her again, “have missed you, my love.”  mirroring her, his hands glide up along her body from her waist until he can cradle her face.  the press of his lips to hers slows, softens, until he lingers against her mouth, allowing himself to forget— only for a moment— the rest of the world around them exists.  pausing, barely separating, thor beams at her brighter than even the sun in their sky.

“there will be plenty of time for this later,” he whispers, offering but one more peck before he pulls away.  “there are people who would like to see you.  and i want to know all about your trip.  how were the senators?  i trust you were perfectly diplomatic.”

[othunderous]

[ forest ] our muses have sex in a forest

evening sun spills through the thick foliage of the jungle. and through the thick of it, atop a soft bed of green, it glints against the sweat coating their skin. among the chirping of insects and the brush of leaves as the animals in the treetops move about is their moaning, panting, the pleased sighs that leave their mouths. around them, flowers wave in a nonexistent breeze. one hand presses hers into the ground, their fingers intertwined and gripping. the other makes a mess of her hair, pulling desperately and carelessly.

they've been here, doing just this, for well over an hour. thor finds he can't keep himself off of her, and she only ever reciprocates. traveling to as many planets as they can think of, with only each other as company more often than not, leaves the passion between them overflowing again and again. maybe if she wasn't so maddening— if she didn't look at him the way he does with that faux innocence in her eyes and smile, if she didn't know just how to touch him, if she wasn't so warm and charming and brilliant— they wouldn't find themselves here repeatedly. not that thor has any complaints; he could spend forever like this.

fingers push into the skin of his shoulder. there's enough pressure for him to feel the scratch of her nails. he feels the squeeze of her legs against his hips, the heave of her chest against his with each breath, the tremble that courses through her beneath him. he savors all of it. it isn't just feeling the physical reaction and the sounds she makes, as wild as they make him feel. it's the knowledge that rey feels it because of him; it's the act of him pushing all of his love inside of her that elicits something so lovely. it will always be him, with her. and no one else could ever make him feel this way.

"i love you," forces its way out of him in a whisper. between panting and moaning, it's the first he's spoken in a while; they've long since lost the gift of coherent thought, but that remains clear. as he watches every minute change in her face— the furrow in her brows, the roll of her eyes, her open mouth— it sweeps through him from head to toe. it stutters his heart, squirms his stomach. "i love you, rey. i love you. . . so much."

[othunderous]

i always feel better when you're near me. i smile more.

since that moment on the rainbow bridge, not so long ago, few of their moments spent together have been devoid of such a thing. smiling, even laughing; all his time with her is time happily spent. he likes her, he likes the way she talks and jokes and tells stories. from the dimples in her cheeks when something he's said charms her, to the furrow in her brows when she's in deep concentration, he likes all of it. it is hardly a surprise, how taken he already is with her after only a handful of weeks. thor had known from the first touch she was special. after the first kiss. . . unforgettable. whatever may happen, he will cherish these memories for as long as he may live.

they are in another right now: a memory to look fondly back on years from now. how candidly she speaks even when he knows she is feeling nervous or shy, the way her eyes can't quite focus on his face— it only drags him further into what is budding between them. a smile of his own pulls at his lips as thor eyes rey with contentment. it's soft, as warm as he feels within. the hand holding a cup shifts so his knuckles can brush against hers. the campfire casts a glow over everyone near enough to it; rey looks particularly beautiful in this light.

"well, then," he starts slowly, trying to suppress a laugh, "i think the best course of action going forward would be. . . to spend as much time together as we possibly can. it seems only right." thor inches closer until he presses to her. whether it's the clear night sky above on base, or the crackling of the fire, or the rarity of an easy day amidst a war, or just rey being rey— affection swoops mercilessly through him.

"you deserve to feel good, always. and a smile as beautiful as yours—" leaning in, he nudges her cheek with his nose, silently instructing her to face him & tilt her head back; thor cuts himself off with a press of his lips to hers. he can't help it — he is smiling again before they break apart. "—should be seen as often as you'll allow it. seeing you happy makes me feel better."

[othunderous]

around them, insects chirp peacefully, animals scurry about at a safe distance. above is the twinkling night sky. wind blows gently, its whispering constant. thor can hear the waves of the ocean from where they lay in the grass, though it’s quiet. mostly, he hears the brush of their skin, the slide of their lips, their breathing and humming. a hand glides along her side, from her shoulder to her thigh and back again. there is a pull in his brows as he gropes her through the sheet draped over their waists. from him, a pleased sigh into his wife’s mouth.

it’s late. the ceremony in new asgard, the celebration that followed, ended hours ago. probably, much of the town is asleep or beginning to retire to bed. any stragglers who remain into the early morning will see them when they return— if they return tonight. they are beyond the outskirts of new asgard, at the edge of a forest, yards before it gives way to the cliffs. why they’ve come here would be of no mystery to anyone; it is unquestionably romantic. that they keep finding themselves joining at the hips evidence enough.

as they are now, they are only moments away from doing so again. thor certainly feels the squirm of want in the pit of his stomach, despite the fact sweat is still beaded at his hairline from the last time. the flush in his skin hasn’t had the chance to entirely fade. but he pauses, doesn’t separate; their noses and mouths still touch as he watches her. rey looks much like he feels. dazed, a hundred lifetimes worth of happy, as completely besotted with him as he is her. it hitches his breath, almost stops his heart, forces a laugh from him. he is so overjoyed and so in love. he can’t possibly be expected to keep it all contained. one peck, another, and while they gaze at one another. . .

@lightsiided: do you believe we were made for each other?

thor laughs again, louder than the previous. it shakes her along with him. butterflies flap mercilessly inside of him as he feels the featherlight press of fingers to his cheek, as they wander to his jaw, his neck. crinkles find his eyes as his smile grows & grows. “you know that i do,” he says, the tip of his nose tracing a line across her cheekbone. “i think the prophetic visions and disembodied voices make for very compelling evidence.” but it’s more than that, and thor falls serious in consideration. his eyes remain locked on rey’s despite the lack of space between them. “you found me when i needed you the most,” he continues, hushed, “and you have always understood me. . . so effortlessly. at times, it feels as though you know my very thoughts before i’ve had them. to me, the happiest and safest place in all the universe is by your side. and the way i feel for you—“ as he’s spoken, he’s caught her moving hand in his; their fingers intertwine now as thor presses hers to the blanket beneath them. for his loss of words, he scoffs. they could spend centuries trying to find the right words to depict what he feels for her. simply, he feels everything and more.

“it’s more than i ever thought possible. we made no adjustments to ourselves. there was no. . . discomfort, frustration, nor heartache in trying to accommodate for the other. so often, there must be compromise, there must be give and take for two to thrive as one. not you and i. we fit together perfectly, just as we were. we still do,” he kisses her again, smiling returning— less mindlessly enamored and far more wicked. “in every way.”

dragging his lips along to her ear, her throat, and back to her nose, his mood lightens. he doesn’t shed the emotion. with one more ceremony left, extended travels ahead of them, the euphoria he’s found himself in isn’t likely to fade soon. often and easily it can be overwhelming; the blinding joy makes room for itself alongside that. rather than pulling himself on top of her again, thor groans as he lingers against her before parting, falling to his side next to her.

“might i ask something of my wife,” thor lightly takes her face into one of his hands, pulls her in for a kiss, “the other half of my very soul?” with his dramatics comes a glimmer in his eyes. “i have been doing all the work for some time now,” he teases, beaming, pressing his lips to hers once more. “it seems only fair that you have your turn on top.” invitingly, his free arm opens for her while he turns onto his back. “and i would like to see this gorgeous face surrounded by the stars as you’re riding me. it will give me something to fantasize and dream about for the next millennia.”

[othunderous]

" you must have gone completely out of your feeble mind."

if not made obvious by the sway in his step, the unfocused look in his eyes— thor's laugh makes it clear enough that he's drunk. coming to a stop at his door, nearly stumbling into it, he regards loki with no shortage of amusement. though, anyone who knows him well— and she does— could easily read the pain beneath his smile. nothing about this is laughable.

undoubtedly, she's sat atop her lonely throne at the end of time and watched as he's decided to descend rather than overcome. she isn't the only one worried; he's reassured his eldest more than once that all is fine. all will be fine. thor just needs his time to adjust. thor needs time to feel the grief. this won't play out as it did when he'd lost to thanos all those years ago. . . or so he tells himself. patterns are being repeated, coping mechanisms he'd sworn off long ago once again being the only thing to keep him warm at night.

"i can assure you, sister," he slurs, as he fumbles with the door. after a moment of struggling, brows pulling in frustration, he at last manages to get himself inside. it's quiet, empty. haunted with memories of happier days. he hates coming home, now. "i am of perfectly sound mind. should my grip on sanity ever truly slip, well. . . you will be the first to know."

grumbling, he lazily taps a switch along the wall that brings the home alight. strewn about the house are her belongings; after a year, he still hasn't worked up the courage to pack them away, or get rid of them altogether. on the table of their living area, journals of the jedi who'd come before her, just where she'd left them. his eyes pass over them with only a pinch of pain.

"i had always known the two of you would get along well. you are both quite dramatic. you, more so than she is. was." he pauses, that single pinch of pain growing until it thrums in his chest. was. that's right. it makes it all the more difficult to maintain the facade of humor, nonchalance. so he doesn't.

"having the capacity to know when to leave something alone has never been among your strongest traits," thor murmurs, a glower in his eyes as he turns back to her at last. "but, traditionally, if someone wants your company, they will ask for it. i don't recall asking for yours. i wish to be alone."

[othunderous]

the days have felt longer and longer since ben’s escape from the world between worlds— since learning the dark side has been moving amongst the shadows, as they always are, preparing to right their last defeat.  from all he’s learned over the years, it seems it never truly is a defeat.  they will always come back.  there must always be balance.  one cannot exist without the other; thor knows.  it doesn’t make the hand they’ve been dealt any more easily accepted.  thor wants better for all of them, but especially his own family.  has rey not spent enough of her life fighting?  does their daughter not deserve to grow up knowing what peace looks like?

he understands why moments of happiness have been harder to come by, why there is a fatigue felt between all of them with each meeting to strategize and organize.  it all culminates in understanding why rey leads him away by his wrist, through the camp and its people and tents and vehicles.  they aren’t so close that being seen is inevitable,  but they aren’t so far that it is impossible.  one glance in their direction before the sun sets, one soul straying from the group and hearing them. . .

yet thor doesn’t protest as his back meets a tree, her wandering and gripping hands nearly enough to wipe his mind of anything else.  being kissed so eagerly, breathlessly, makes the pit of his stomach squirm; it’s too tempting, and he can’t think of one reason why they should be more sensible about it.  they know nothing of what the future holds.  they know not when they’ll have the chance again.  after all, they have just spent the day entirely apart, pulled in separate directions by differing duties.  each day is only busier than the last.  as if hearing his thoughts as her own—

@lightsiided says: ❛ i don't care if someone sees us. i need you, now. ❜

he finds his hands cupping either sides of her face, holding her to him, the urgency of his kisses meeting that of her movements.  in sync with one another, his lower just as hers do; while she slides her hands inside his tunic, eliciting a shiver and a sigh, his begin to pull at the wraps tied over her shirt.  he pauses long enough for her to lift it over his head, where it’s carelessly tossed to the ground & forgotten.  in an instant, they’re kissing again, thor pushing away from the tree to turn them around.  he presses her to it now, the laugh that passes between them hushed.

“i must say,” he whispers, a smile interrupting the press of their lips, “impatience looks very good on you.”

is he supposed to resist it?  the possibility of being seen has never stopped him before— he can hardly remember it exists with his wife’s hands in his hair, gliding down his neck and chest, all over him, with her body pressing perfectly into his.  all he can think of is her warmth, the moisture of her mouth, the heaviness of their breaths.  in the back of his mind, he knows they deserve this.  they’ve earned it.

after dropping her wrap atop his tunic, her shirt quickly follows, and his hands brush along her sides until his fingers can hook into the waistband of her pants.  pulling at them, he reminds himself to do so carefully, when what he wants to do is tear them apart.  once she is freed of them, they fall to the pile of clothes, and his mouth presses to her cheek once he closes the distance between them again.  gliding along to her jaw, her ear, thor hums when he presses his hips into hers.   lightly nipping at her earlobe, he feels how her hands clumsily work to remove his, too. they top the pile of clothing next to them.

"you say now that you don't care," he manages, his voice breathy, as he cranes his head back to watch her through half-lidded eyes. "but you and i both know, they will never let us forget it—" taking her by the waist, he pulls her away from the tree, turning & laying her carefully atop their clothes, "if they do happen to see us. do you think you can stay quiet?"

a smile spreads across his face, another laugh— stronger, more joyful than the last— sounds from his throat. he hadn't realized until she was pulling him through the very edges of the forest how much he's yearned for this, too. quick kisses precede the shifting of his weight on top of hers, tugging at her underwear, and spreading her knees to make room for himself. supporting himself with one elbow, he hovers over her; when his mouth finds hers again, he relinquishes some of the tenderness in favor of kissing her as hungrily as he feels. anticipation warms him from head to toe. when he parts, the grin unfurls again.

"if you are good and quiet for me," thor whispers, nudging her with his nose, fitting himself beneath her chin to place wet kisses on her neck, "i'll fuck you as hard as you want me to. but if you make a sound. . . i'll stop." and so he makes his descent, creating a path down her body with one damp press of his lips after another. "the choice is yours."

[othunderous]

since gorr, and eternity, and proposing. . . they have been inseparable. too many times they have been pulled apart, have nearly lost each other, have had to watch as others fell to the sadistic whims of the universe. if recent years have taught thor anything, it is that there is only right now. right now, he has rey— the love of his life, the person he wants to spend forever with. right now, nothing is stopping them from being together, nothing is coming between them. there is only hope for the future, content for the present, and love. so much of it that sometimes feels sick with it, completely out of his mind. yet it ravages him in a way he enjoys. all he wants to do is succumb to her again and again for the rest of their forever. so he does.

hardly any time at all had been spent with the people of new asgard, enjoying their company and sharing in their laughs, soaking up the sun, before hurrying back to his house. after spending days wrapped up in each others’ arms, naked more often than not, he couldn’t resist bringing them right back to it. it was the way she was looking at him: thor’s smile had been bright, sitting amongst his people, sharing drinks and listening to their stories. he only looked to see if she was enjoying herself as much as he was. rey appeared happy, yes— but her eyes raked over him, and all the faces around them blurred. there was only her, and the leap in his chest, and his eyes lingering on the curve of her mouth and her dimples. it was the shine of the sun in her eyes, the scrunch in her nose as she squinted against it. and, he knows, because she’d moved almost in sync with him to leave— it was the way she was taken with the same thoughts he was.

before they’re at the door, he catches her mouth in a searing kiss. thor’s hands blindly grab and grope at her, pressing her to the outside wall with a thud. fingers thread through his hair while his hands pass over her chest. amidst the passion, the door opens so they can stumble inside. thor mindlessly kicks it to a close behind him; all of his focus is on rey, their quickening breaths, the heat that rises to his face. driving her backward, a moan pulls from the back of his throat, the sound of clothes tearing reaching his ears over his own pulse. the shirt she wears— one of his— falls away from her and to the floor in pieces. their path to the bed is messy, bumping into another wall, nearly tripping over their feet, knocking books out of place. thor makes no attempt to hide his breathless laughter.

@lightsiided: “you are simply the most beautiful person i have ever known,” he hears. when he steals a peak at her through half - lidded eyes, he sees a matching smile.

“says,” he sighs, kissing a trail from the corner of her mouth to her jaw, “the most beautiful woman there is.” inside and out. rey has the purest heart he’s ever had the privilege of knowing. she is courageous, her empathy is boundless— even when he doesn’t understand it, he admires it. she stays true to herself in a way he’s failed to more than once. however small it is, thor feels a wave of emotion, a tightness in his throat. it brings pause, but he doesn’t stop. wet kisses paint a path down her neck, her throat, to her chest. swiftly, he lifts her to wrap her legs around his waist. she is held securely against him as he carries her to the bed, falling atop the mattress together.

“i can’t get enough of you,” he continues in a murmur against her ear. nudging her with his nose, making more room for himself, the next open-mouthed kiss to the base of her neck comes with light nipping & sucking. “i don’t think— i ever will. i know i never will.” one hand supports his weight beside her head, the other reaching between them while he kisses her to work at removing her pants. “i love you so much. more than— anything, anyone. i love. . .” no small amount of adoration is in his eyes as he idles, his lips brushing her cheekbone, watching her and listening to their breaths fill the silence. “. . . what you’ve done to me. what you continue to do to me. i need it to never stop. i need—“ always helplessly but happily stuck in her orbit, he is pulled into her again, the pecks to her lips prolonging after each separation until his head spins with want. “—you. i need you.” eagerly, overcome with need, he further undresses her without breaking their kiss. thor only parts long enough to pull his own shirt over his head. then, seamlessly, her hands on either side of his face force another pause. he doesn’t protest as he’s instructed to meet her eyes.

“i can't possibly live without you.”

seconds between them seem to stretch. nothing, he feels, exists outside the two of them. she is so warm and safe against him, they are so close— he has no doubt that their hearts beat as one. his swells with so much love it beats almost painfully. for a moment, he says nothing. he can’t, not with the knot in his throat and the fact his mind blares with only one thing: that he loves her. “i know,” he whispers, when he finally remembers what it is to speak. leaning his head down, his upper lip brushes hers. he doesn’t break their stare. “neither can i.” but it’s more than the knowledge that he can’t. it’s more than knowing losing her, permanently, would destroy him in a way he’d never recover from. it’s more than knowing that the most likely outcome is, one day, he will be forced to endure the impossible. “i don’t want to. rey, i. . . never, never want to.”

[othunderous]

“   i  think  the  kids  are  awake  …   ”

sunlight streams in through the window of their room, casting a golden glow over them. thor groans, swings one of his arms over his face— to shield himself from the sun’s rays and the implications of his wife’s statement. lately, it seems their lovely children pull from a depthless well of energy. even he struggles to keep up with all of them. when there are four personalities clashing and bickering and running about, he imagines any god would feel tired.

“ignore them, perhaps they’ll go away.”

not likely. he hears three different pairs of feet bounding through the halls; already he knows freyr either follows quietly, or waits in his room for the noise of his siblings to pass. it isn’t that he is immune to joining it— most days, he simply prefers his own quiet. thor understands. it must be overwhelming, at times, when he is so different than the others.

“i want breakfast!” the shouts of reginn, piercing and demanding, pull a sigh from thor. only seconds later, he hears a thumping, as if reginn has opted to jump with all his might on his way to the kitchen. “i— want— breakfast!”

alongside frigga’s distant giggling, as leia speaks, he can almost see her frowning and rolling her eyes. “well, maybe you’ll get some if you ask for it nicely instead of being annoying.”

“don’t call me annoying!” thor lowers his arm to eye his wife with a slight, sarcastic grin. “it’s mean!”

“i’m not trying to be mean, i’m trying to teach you some manners.”

with the abundance of energy, it seems there isn’t as much room for patience. more than once within the last week, he or rey have had to put a stop to an argument. often baseless, never too serious, but present nonetheless. that, too, he understands. so often they remind him of himself and his own brother at those ages— and the rest of their lives together, if he is honest with himself. frustrations aside. . . it is impossible not to be charmed, even comforted by it. the grin on his face turns genuine as he inches forward to press a kiss to rey’s nose, then rises from the bed.

“i’m going to go cook before they’re at each others’ throats. it’s my turn to keep them civil, anyway.” slowly making his way around the room, he retrieves a shirt to pull over his head, then pants. “is there anything specific you’d like?” dressed, running a hand through his hair, he idles at rey’s side of the bed. the same hand reaches down for a finger to trace the slope of her nose. “i can have it ready once the beasts are fed.”

[othunderous]

thor sees rather than hears her approach; his wife, as beautiful as always— dozens of decades later and she is still as heart-stopping as when he'd met her— and smiling so sunnily down at him, his chest aches. just her presence is enough to dissipate some of his upset, the corners of his mouth curling upward. so long as she is around, how terrible can anything truly be?

@lightsiided: "i missed that smile of yours."

into the room she walks, joins him where he sits. their house is quieter, now; the children have long since left to begin building lives, planting roots of their own. thor still remembers how wonderfully noisy it had been when they were young. always shouting, or playing, or training. arguing and laughing and running through the quaint space. it hasn't felt quite the same since they've grown. amongst the quiet and stillness, time seems to pass differently— especially in recent years. how long has it been since he last smiled? about as long as he thinks, probably. a long while. it's been a particularly rough time. he hasn't found much reason to smile.

but he does now.

"you know just where to look, whenever you find yourself longing. i will always be here, waiting for you to come to me."

as he speaks, though, it falters. the once beaming smile she always loved so much has more than dimmed; it's burnt-out. even rey can't keep at bay this pain. it's greater than himself, greater than her. he can feel how the look in her eyes and pitiful curve of her mouth want to work as balm on his wounds, but the lacerations are too deep. thor frowns, turning his head to face her. fingers curl around the bottle at his side. even if she couldn't see it upon entry, it must be all over his face; alongside the exhaustion in his eyes, thor is visibly drunk. he has been for as long as he's gone without smiling, he thinks. it doesn't help. it never does. that doesn't stop him from trying.

slumped against the wall, one arm swings lazily over his bent knee so he can bring the bottle to his mouth. after a swig that lasts too long, the hand falls, the bottle— almost empty— nearly toppling over into his lap. gulping, sighing, he averts his eyes to stare blankly at the wall before them.

"when did you last speak with our children? surely, leia must have asked you to check in on me." all of them, as far as he knows, are feeling better. their steps are more lively, they've learned what it is to laugh again, their motivation and hope has returned. not for thor. he knows they're worried; they have said as much more than once. "or was it freyr? given how often he visits, how hard he tries to maintain regular contact. yes, it must be one of them." reginn doesn't know what to say or do— thor can tell. it's alright, though, he doesn't expect him to. and frigga. . . she can't possibly piece back together her father when she has only just reassembled herself. she shouldn't have to, and he would never ask that of her. if he is going to crumble, only he is responsible for tending to the mess that follows.

that they still want to help, though, fills him with a warm pride, and depthless gratitude. he has taken care of them their whole lives, and they are returning the favor as best they can.

"you must know there is nothing you could do or say." still, he doesn't bring himself to meet her gaze. how she stares so sadly, so sympathetically, is not lost on him. he can feel it boring into him. "all that we've endured together. . . each time tragedy struck or we felt the crushing weight of the universe on our shoulders, you knew just what to say. to inspire me to keep going, to ensure i never lost hope. it has always been like magic, how you have effortlessly kept me afloat, but. . . we both know that won't be possible now. you just don't want to admit it." now he looks at her, as broken as he is defeated, resigned. not a drop of malice or frustration is in his tone. thor doesn't speak from a place of anger, but of knowing. he has always known. now, he is being proven right. "i'm not getting any better. i doubt i ever will. it is needlessly hard on you, trying to fix me. it's hopeless."

@lightsiided: “well, regardless. . . whatever happens, i'm right here beside you.”

the moment he's been fighting off all day at last rears its head in his direction. anguish, the multitude of which he can hardly comprehend, hits him so violently it takes his breath away. the tightness in his throat is so painful, it feels as though a boulder has been lodged in it, and all he can do is choke. it reaches his own ears, how his breath quickens once it comes back to him, how his heart pounds. returning to their eye contact, a tear rolls down his cheek. thor's brows pull, his face scrunching as it rolls over him, each wave more suffocating than the last. his empty hand lifts to caress a knuckle across her cheek.

"but you're not."

rather than meeting warm flesh, he thuds almost inaudibly against the wall. when his hand falls, it phases through her upper thigh and to the floor. watching the path of his hand feels like a new blow of its own. sitting here, joined by his wife— shimmering in a soft, blue glow, unable to be held or kissed or felt at all— feels like an amalgamation of every awful thing that has ever happened to him. before, he had been hopeful that this would be enough. it wouldn't really feel like she's gone. she had seemed to fare just fine, seeing only glimpses of her mentors for a time that he now knows is far too short. what a poor assumption that had been, on thor's part. it feels like a new method of torture: you can see her, you can talk to her, but only for fleeting moments. you will never hold her in your arms while you fall asleep again, you will never dance through the kitchen laughing, you will never feel the passion of joining at the hips. not ever again in this lifetime. that joy, that comfort, that stability— it is all gone. it died with her.

it's been three years. the anniversay passed just days ago. three years, yet it feels like only yesterday. thor can't see an end in sight to this agony. is this what the next millennia holds? only this misery and this unbearable ache? he can't exactly say he is surprised. he knew it would be the worst thing he would ever feel, and he chose to love her, anyway.

"not truly. not as you were." by now, tears flow from his eyes without restraint, and his voice shakes. he couldn't stop it if he tried. "i can't pretend otherwise. you may be able to, but i. . . just can't." the sadness in her face doesn't go unnoticed; simply, how can thor comfort her, reassure her, when he has nothing to say that will ease her worries? rey is right to worry for him. they all are. he feels lost. he feels like part of himself has been taken from him. in a way, he supposes, that is exactly what has happened. how is one half of a soul expected to go on when its other half is gone? "i don't want you to say what you always do. i don't want you to tell me this won't last forever. all i want is. . ."

impossible. thor wants his wife back; flesh and blood and warmth. but there is no going back, and none of them know when a release may come for him. when it does, he will welcome it with open arms. their children don't need him anymore; their job is done and it was done well. they have all become exceptional individuals. most of his friends are long gone. all that remains is a peaceful afterlife with his family and the woman he loves. but for right now, there is only this. the pain.

exhaling, closing his eyes, the free hand lifts to conceal the emotion that threatens to topple him. trying to keep it from bursting, he holds his breath; the might of the crashing waves only grows in strength. beneath his hand, he flushes, exhales, trying with all he has to keep himself composed. it takes a few moments for him to feel just calm enough to continue speaking.

"i don't know how to do this without you." pulling his hand away, it's wet, glistening in the dim light of his room. "i don't know how to. . . live without you. i don't want to. i never wanted to. now, i have no other choice."

torturous as it is, having her so close but still gone, it is better than the alternative. most don't have the luxury of speaking to their deceased loved ones.

"i don't. . ." he starts after a heavy breath, "want you to go. just be with me. please. for as long as you're able." leaning his head against the wall, he allows himself to lull until his red-rimmed, wet eyes can meet hers again. the alternative is worse, he reminds himself. all that he was feeling just needs release. holding it all inside won't help him move on (not that he thinks he can). she has always been the one he could express anything to. that isn't going to change now.

"i'm sorry, for. . . all of this. i know how i must sound." sniffling, his throat clears. "i'm not ready to say goodbye yet. having you near helps— though it may not seem like it, i promise you, it does. just. . . stay here with me."

[othunderous]

i believe that everything happened exactly the way it had to… so i could find you.

it softens him in a way he isn’t ready for.  aims for the most sensitive and vulnerable parts of him and fires without warning.  the movement of his hand against hers slows, pauses— they’d been comparing the differing sizes.  rey pressed her fingers to his, and he’d teased her about how small she is against him.  the touch remained while they talked.  mostly, she talked, he listened.  surely, her story is a captivating one.  sad, though it isn’t pity that he watches her with now.  there is only appreciation reflecting back at her each time she meets his eyes.

appreciation, awe. . .  then disarming surprise.  does she mean to imply it’d all been worth it?  or is he simply hearing what he wants to hear?  if she does mean it as he hears it. . .  how it deepens his fascination and care nearly takes his breath away.  all at once, thor feels so terribly protective of her.  all of the pain that litters her past could have— should have been prevented.  he wishes he could do that for her.  even if she believes it all had to unfold as it did, if it means they could be together now.

thor’s fingers close around hers, the arm wrapped around her pulling her closer.  rey’s legs rest comfortably in his lap.  in the silence, he hears only the barely-there hum of the falcon around them.  most of their time getting to know one another is spent here, and it’s here, surrounded by metal and machinery that often fails— another thing he affectionately teases her for— hurtling through space that part of him begins to fall in love with her.  however small that part may be, however soon some might consider it, he feels it.

he is only eager to fall the rest of the way.  to walk willingly and happily into love with rey.  in the moment, he knows he’s going to choose it.  why would he not?  she is only ever lovelier and lovelier, amazing by anyone’s standards.  he thinks it will feel nice, freeing. . .  when he does finally fall for her.

realizing he’s staring, his throat clears, and he shifts his eyes to their hands.  the smile that appears is small, but not the emotion coursing through him.  “i think. . .”  he begins, his voice hushed, his heart aching, “that is nothing short of wonderful.”  when he looks back to her, inching his face closer, his smile widens.  “i don’t mean to say that i am glad you’ve had to endure such hardships— i think i would do anything if it meant freeing you of your pain— but. . .  i am happy that it all brought you to me.  happier than i think i should be.”

[othunderous]

🌊 for your muse to come across my muse skinny dipping in a lake (whichever way u want)

many times throughout his long life, thor has thought himself in love. he has known infatuation, passion, lust. his reputation has facets and he is aware of all of them; arrogant, hot-headed, fierce, brave, and— as some would put it— very, very loving. for as long as he can remember his heart has been full of love. it’s lead him to pouring it places that can’t contain all of it. he has tried, and failed, many times. lasting beyond the burning of want, building something meaningful, seemed to be a feat he would never overcome. but there had been one who inspired him to look deeper, to appreciate the time it takes for a true connection to be found.

then there had been rey. when he thought he’d learned all there was to know about love, romance, relationships, she proved him wrong. so delightfully wrong. she showed him everything: the passion will not always fade, attraction is not the sole nor defining factor of desire, to appreciate and care for tenderly and protect is vastly more consuming than the simple & temporary whims of the flesh. knowing someone’s heart, every last bit of it, and offering his own in return— knowing of the immense devastation that may have followed had she turned it away— and being still wanted & welcomed anyway is the greatest gift he’s ever been given.

rey brings him happiness, safety and security, joy even in the darkest and most difficult of times. thor will spend eternity trying to thank her for that. now, he only smiles, trying not to mind the slight blur in his eyes as he watches her. it’s been a few minutes since he’s stopped where he stands, leaning against a wall of stone with his eyes trained on her. moonlight paints them and the wading water in a pale blue. the wetness of her hair and the rivulets running down her back as she rises from the water glimmer. absently, he wonders if she can feel him admiring her, knows that his heart begins to hammer. it isn’t just the sight of her, but all the thoughts of endless love that have crossed his mind since he left the shelter of the cave. gods, she is so beautiful. thor has often thought to himself it should hurt to look at her — right now, it does.

they are alone. this planet is not heavily populated, and its people don’t live this deep within nature. most of the wildlife has kept a safe distance. understandable; it must be odd to see people here, in their home. rey would know if they felt intruded upon. because they are alone, he worries not over being seen without their clothes, or in an intimate position. he takes advantage of the solitude to appreciate her as she should be appreciated. completely bare, exposed, vulnerable. . . but only ever protected and adored by him.

slowly, thor’s feet leave the rough terrain of stone beneath him to step into the water. undoubtedly, she can hear him coming, with the light splashes hitting his skin. a hand lifts to run through his hair, wetting it. it isn’t cold as he’d anticipated it would be. approaching her from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist, he is pleased to find that while the darkness of the water shrouds him just beneath the navel, she is barely tall enough that her chest isn’t concealed. it pulls a brief chuckle from him.

“hi,” he murmurs, one thumb stroking at her hip whilst his free hand caresses along her arm. “are you enjoying the water?”

he knows the answer is yes. rey loves oceans, rain, even the simplicity of a bath. it’s why he brought her to this cave. with his chin resting atop her head, he takes a moment to admire the moon above. so big and bright, illuminating the darkness of the surrounding void. well— the stars that pepper the sky offer their help. temporarily, the hand stroking her arm lifts to point at the sky. up, up, slightly to the left.

“do you see that one? it is very slightly bigger than all the stars that surround it. that’s no star; it’s earth.” looking down at her, the smile he wears is quaint, but so visibly taken with her. “i wonder how many are there, right now, looking up at the sky as we are, not knowing we’re looking back.”

as gorgeous as the night is, rey is captivating. he finds he can’t tear his eyes away. of course, her body calls to him; her curves, the softness of her skin, the glittering of the droplets that cover her, the perfect shape of her mouth. but he sees more than that: her strength, her devotion, her compassion, her love. all the memories they’ve made and have yet to make. amidst the thudding, his heart skips. the hand that’s returned to stroking her arm lifts again to move her hair, draping it over one shoulder. thor takes up the free space with his mouth, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to her skin. the arm wrapped around her tightens its hold, pulling her closer against him.

“you are so. . . beautiful.” his voice is low as he speaks between kisses to her neck. he sighs against her, teeth offering gentle nips before he pauses, parts, turns her in his arms. touching his forehead to hers, he releases her to cradle her face, tilting her upward to meet him. but he doesn’t kiss her, despite how close they are, and the very ends of their lips brush. “rey,” he whispers, so quietly he hardly hears it himself. thor inches closer; they’re chest to chest, hips to hips. her body heat both soothes and excites him. how his eyes take her in, raking over her face before focusing on her mouth is intentional. “kiss me.”

[othunderous]

Smacks Thor upside the head. "Rey said you shouted at her. You should know better." Smacks him again for good measure.

“what the hel?” at once, irritation hardens his face, an incredulous look shot in loki’s direction. but just as his head turns— another smack! “STOP THAT! i’ve done no such thing! not in some time— so i would say,” thor returns the violence, harder than they had, “it’s no concern of yours,” for good measure, he smacks them again, “and no longer punishable.”

[othunderous]

❛ you'll be begging for me by the time i'm through with you. ❜

will be?  he’s already there.

with his wife’s weight on top of him, she makes it a point to grind her hips into his.  slow— torturous.  each time he tries to remove his wrists from her grasp, he is met with resistance, another press of her body against him.  so they remain pinned above his head; when he’d given her this gift, more power and strength and longevity, he hadn’t imagined it would be used against him like this.  not that he is complaining.  though he will be the first to admit it drives him out of his mind, surely they both know he enjoys it.  after all, where they’re pressed together between their clothing, he is hard and throbbing.

when she inches her face closer to kiss him, he sighs into her mouth, all but melting into her, underneath her.  thor savors her warmth and closeness.  feeling her press into him again evokes a soft moan, his own hips instinctively lifting to meet her.  it isn’t enough— he needs the thin fabric separating them gone, and it takes great restraint to keep himself from carelessly tearing it away, flipping her onto her back, having his way.  he could.  he can.  but he doesn’t want to spoil her fun. . .  and he enjoys the way she makes his head spin.

“rey,” he groans when her mouth leaves his, instead pressing to his neck.  he supposes he should have expected what comes next: teeth pressing to his skin, undoubtedly leaving a mark.  briefly, rolling his eyes, he squirms for her.

“my love, please, you’ve made your point.”  that she holds much power over him, that he will always be weak in the knees for her, that she can reduce him to desperation and pleas in a way no one else ever has.  “how much longer must i wait?  let me. . .”  opening his eyes, he turns his face toward hers, his nose brushing against her cheek, “i need to be inside you.”