#chubby Thor

[kohada-sushi]

chubby Thor modern AU

[peach-fiz]

Late night mini rant but I suppose the reason I like Thor so much in Endgame is bc he fairly represents my mental health while being a comfort to it. How everyone treats him in the movie is how my anxiety makes me think people think of me. He's a mess and I'm a mess. And he's so sensitive to touch because he hasn't been with anyone in so long. When Frigga touches his face and he makes a little squirmy noise and he tries to cover his body with his robe. No one's talked to him about how he's changed and he's terrified of what someone he truly loves and cares for might think of it. He knows it's there and he'd rather not anyone touch it. Solidify it as reality.

And in tlat you see his anxiety lingers. He didn't have that before. He was a little more comedic in Ragnarok, sure, but especially when he's talking to Jane (or about her) he seems anxious and frantic like he's struggling to keep hold of himself.

In Endgame specifically he's comedically out of touch because really, he doesn't want to be there. He's been at home by himself so long he's lost the small sense of boundaries he did have before the blip. He knows there's no one left. There's no one coming back for him. But for the first time in 5 years, he's needed. He can feel wanted again. Like the hero he was supposed to be.

In conclusion:

[holyluluslibrary]

Library reblog

Rekindle

Summary: Thor and you meet again.

Pairing: Chubby!Thor Odinson x Exgirlfriend!Reader

Square 13 filled for @avengersbingo (expired): Reunited

Square 15 filled for @marvelfluffbingo (expired): old flame

Square 6 filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Free Space

Warnings: Thor has low self-esteem, fluff, a tiny hint of naughtiness, mentions of past breakup, a hint of harassment towards chubby Thor

Rating: Mature

Trope: Reunion

Words: 1029

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

The wind blows a little harder today, but you still smile.

Fall finally arrived, and you are giddy like a child to collect leaves and visit the pumpkin patch.

The world changed once again. The world order was restored.  People came back, and everyone got a second chance.

Even if you are not the lucky one who got her true love back, you’re happy for the others having the chance to love each other again.

“Another one, please,” you dip your head as a familiar voice catches your attention. It comes from one of the seats outside your favorite bakery. “It’s delicious, ma’am.”

You step closer, eyes glued to the man ordering another slice of pumpkin pie. “Thor?” You blink a few times. He’s still as handsome as you remember, but he’s got a belly now.

A thick blonde beard frames his face, and he’s got long dreadlock-style blonde hair. He looks different, but his eyes are the same.

“It’s really you!” you smile widely and hug Thor before he can react. “It’s good to see you. How have you been?”

“Y/N?” He gasps as you won’t let go of him. “I-I’m good. Uh-I try to get in shape again and find a place where I belong.”

“Whoa, a lot is going on in your life.” You let go of Thor and smile at him. “I heard what happened to Asgard. I’m so sorry, Thor.”

“It’s…we found a new place. We’re about to build a new home for the survivors,” Thor drops his eyes to his belly. “I’m not the man you used to know, huh?”

“Why are you saying this?” You sit on the free chair at his table. “Did you change so much? I can still see the kind man I met five years ago.”

“You’re too kind to speak the truth. Look at me, dove. I’m fat and useless,” he sighs deeply. “I just can’t find a reason to…” Thor shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You didn’t bother me at all, Thor,” you reach out to touch his hand. “We all have ups and downs. You’ve lost so much. No one could endure such pain without losing hope. But I know you are strong enough to overcome all of this.”

“I lost more than hope,” he sheepishly admits. “There is nothing worth living for any longer. Most of my days I spend at the café, eating more food to fill the emptiness inside of me.”

“Thor, in front of me still sits the man sweeping me off of my feet,” you squeeze his hand. “If you want to have a slice of pie, I can keep you company. I wanted to have some tea and pumpkin pie too before I go to the pumpkin patch.”

“Pumpkin patch?” Thor’s eyes sparkle.

He remembers how you invited him to go to a pumpkin patch before your relationship fell apart. Thor had to leave to help Asgard and didn’t return for almost a year.

Jane Foster came back into the picture, and before he knew it, you broke up. You didn’t want to share his heart with another woman or spend years apart from the man you love.

“YES! They got the best pumpkins, or so I heard. I want to find the perfect pumpkins to decorate my store and home,” you hastily explain. “You know how I get when it comes to decoration.”

“I remember,” he flashes you a smile, making his cheeks dimple. Thor places one hand on his belly, sighing once again. He’s not the good-looking man you dated years ago in his opinion.

You smile at Thor as the waitress places the plate with the pie in front of him. She looks Thor up and down, judging him for ordering another slice of pie by dropping her eyes on his belly. The woman shakes her head before turning her attention toward someone yelling at her.

“I…you recognized me,” he whispers to not catch the waitress’s attention. “People these days don’t do this often.”

“Why wouldn’t I recognize you, Thor?” You frown deeply. “You’re still my Thor. Of course, I recognized you, dummy.” You grin.

“Y/N, you don’t have to pretend. I know how I look,” Thor mumbles. He dares not to meet your eyes; afraid he’ll see what he sees in most women's eyes these days. Rejection and disgust.

“Thor, you should know me better,” you get up from your chair to cup his face to look Thor deep in the eyes. “I always admired and loved the man you are, not how you looked. He’s still there, I can see him in your eyes. You lost your way for a moment, but you will find your footing and get back on your feet. And I like me a cozy belly to…”

“…to what?” He furrows his brows when you dip your head to whisper something far from innocent in his ear while you run your hand over his belly. Thor gulps hard, suddenly feeling hungry for something else than pie. “Oh—”

“If you are free, you could join me to choose the pumpkins for decoration and pie, and later, we can go for a walk and collect a few colorful leaves.”

“I’d like that,” Thor watches you sit back down, a content smile on his face. “How many pumpkins do you need?”

“Enough for two,” you return his smile, feeling your heart flutter when Thor grabs your hand to hold it like he used to do.

Maybe this is the chance you have been waiting for.

Thor is back in your life, and you’d be damned if you let him walk out on you ever again. You’ll give him something that he’s longing for.

A home and someone who’ll love him unconditionally…

Tags in reblog.

[alias-b]

"Crystalline Heart" A Loki Laufeyson fanfic and MCU AU Space Opera Epic

“Only if you swear to haunt me, sweetheart. Haunt me every single day...” Prince Loki teaches his best friend magic. It's all down hill from there. As a lost warrior of Asgard, she dreams of seeing her name written and asks one question. Who do gods pray to? (READ HERE)

[thezombieprostitute]

There is no part of this story I didn't love!

“Today?” He asks, “it’s a bit ridiculous but I wouldn’t mind getting it over with.”

I'll be honest, if I heard that I'd probably be thinking they already knew who they were hiring and they just needed to go through the motions of interviews with others. But that's probably because of my own experience. I hope she takes it as, "you're hired, this is just a formality."

I love the relationship between the sisters. They obviously care about each other and it wouldn't surprise me if they both feel like some kind of burden to the other. Reader because she's been unemployed, Delaney because of her disability. Not gonna lie, I'm already picturing Thor carrying Delaney at some point.

Also, "Sweet and Spicy AU" is a perfect name!

Whisked Away 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it's not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

The tea shop hasn’t called back. Or the grocery store. Not even the cafe around the corner. 

You’re tired. You’ve been sending out resumes for months. Reviewing and editing and sending again. You don’t get it. You have the proper credential and you have a decent amount of experience. It’s just been a while.  

You want to assume that people just aren’t hiring but that wouldn’t explain the postings and re-postings. They are still looking but somehow you’re just not good enough on paper. Disappointment knots in your throat as your inbox reveals no new emails. You need something. Even a job at the burger joint will do. 

You grab your phone and sigh. You stand and shut the laptop lid as you tuck your cell into your back pocket. You go down the short hall and knock on the bedroom door. 

“Delaney? You up?” You call through. 

You get a groan in return. Sometimes that’s all you get. 

“Alright, I’m gonna open the door,” you warn as you twist the knob slowly. 

You push inside and reach to flip on the light switch. Your sister grumbles against and covers her face with her arm. The windows are covered with dark curtains that give a blue hue even when the space is lit. She hids behind her forearm as you near the bottom of her bed. 

“Are you hungry?” You ask. 

“I’d love some coffee,” the croaks. 

“How ya feeling?” You grab her walker and move it parallel with the side of the bed. 

“It’s a rough one,” she warns and drags her arm away from her face. “I don’t wanna get up.” 

You nod and trail your fingers along the top of the walker, “if you don’t wanna...” 

“No, I should,” she insists. 

She braces herself visibly, closing her eyes as her cheeks strain and she sits up with a grunt. He arms shake and she kicks the blankets of her legs. Her movement is awkward and stiff. You hate seeing her struggle like this. You know she’s just as unhappy about you seeing it. That’s why she’s so stubborn. 

“Should be enough left for another cup but I can make a new pot?” You offer as you hold the walker steady and she grips it, pulling herself to her feet. She hunches slightly and tries to stretch out her legs. 

“My feet are numb,” she stomps one foot then the other. “Annoying.” She scowls and shakes her head as you let go of the walker and step back. She turns it sharply and lumbers forward with the aid of the wheels, “I can have the leftovers.” 

Patiently, you follow her to the door and into the hall. She wheels her way to the table and angles herself into the chair with her special cushion on it. She’s out of breath. 

You go into the kitchen to give her some time to recover. You try your best to give her space, even in the one-bedroom. You sleep on the couch while she gets the bedroom. It makes sense, especially since lately her stipend has been covering most of your expenses. 

You fill a mug for her and grab her pill box. You bring both to her and set them on the table. She takes the coffee first and swigs. She sighs as she sets it down heavily then snatches the box. She pops open the lid for that day of the week and scoops out the tablets. She sneers before she gulps them down with another mouthful of coffee. 

“So, you were up early?” She prompts. 

“You know I’m a morning bird.” 

“Eh, yeah, wish I had that problem,” she mutters. Some days, she sleeps more than she’s awake. You tell her it’s part of her diagnosis but she won’t accept that. You can understand that but you know you can’t really understand. You’re not her. 

“Yeah, well, the birds wake me up,” you shrug.  

A sudden buzzing ripple in your pocket. You pull your phone out of the loose sweatpants and look at the screen. It’s a number you don’t know. You doubt it’s important but you can’t risk missing any calls. 

“Gimme a sec,” you hold up a finger and turn away. “Probably the building or something.” You tap the screen and put the phone to your ear, “hello?” 

“Hello,” a deep voice rumbles over a calamity of noises, some metallic, others humming, “oh, apologies, give me a moment.” You wait as you hear movement on the other end and the cacophony finally subsides, “ah, much better. Is this...” 

You blink and confirm that he has the right number. 

“Wonderful, I apologise for the early call but I tend to get started with the sun,” he explains, “anyhow, I was only just reviewing CVs and you are on my list of candidates. When would be a good day for an interview?” 

You turn back and glance at Delaney. She sips her coffee as she pulls the laptop close. She opens it and squints at it before she clicks. She scrolls as you watch her. 

“Um, well, I could um, any day,” you answer, trying not to seem to desperate. 

“Today?” He asks, “it’s a bit ridiculous but I wouldn’t mind getting it over with.” 

“S-sure,” you answer, surprised by the suddenness. It's as if the universe had sensed you were about to give up. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I... got your name.” 

“Oh, yes, I did dive in head first. Thor Odinson, at Golden Crust bakery. You applied as a decorator?” 

“Y-yeah, I remember,” you assure him, “just wanna make sure I get to the right place. Uh, thanks, um, what time should I be there?” 

“Is noon doable?” He asks. 

“Noon it is,” you say, barely containing your excitement. You try not to let it overflow, you don’t want to get all worked up for another rejection. 

“Excellent, I will see you then,” he confirms, “now, excuse me, I think my sourdough has burnt.” 

The line clicks and you lower the phone, staring at it. The tapping of Delaney’s fingers on the keyboard are the only noise amidst the the stunned silence. It’s great you got an interview but what do you wear? 

“Hm, job hunt not going so well?” Delaney suggests as she leans into the screen. 

“Actually, just got a call for one,” you go to the table and put your phone down. “I have an interview.” 

“You do?” Her eyes flash as she looks up, a rare glimmer of happiness. “That’s awesome!” 

“Uh, yeah, but it’s at noon so... I’ll have to leave for a bit.” 

“Sounds good to me,” she scoffs, “perfect time to party.” 

You roll your eyes, “you’re silly.” 

“Well, you know, if you get the job, I’ll have to figure out how to entertain myself,” she says, “and I’ll get to binge all the TV shows you hate.” 

“You’re such an optimist,” you chide playfully. 

[deniable-masterpiece]

I have the same question as the previous one, but in reverse. Which character would you inject your semen into? Mine are: Wiccan Ass (Wanda's son). I'm not interested in being a top because I'm on team bottom, but I wouldn't mind being one once in a lifetime, and Billy's body is definitely easy to dominate. I borrow Steve Roger, and seeing his toned body, I imagine him filled with my semen, and phew! I get horny. Thor, a god twice my size, has a much stronger throat than me, leaning over me and sucking my cock. Oh my God! Where did he sign? Plus, pulling his blond hair while swearing would be priceless, and watching him swallow all my semen without letting out a drop would be exquisite. P.S. I do all that to Peter too, and with even more enthusiasm.

Ughhhhh this is so hard! I feel you on being #team bottom but I'm actually vers both irl and in fanfic spaces, buttttt I do prefer bottoming. Just because it's usually linked to sub behavior and easier to roll with for most people.

Choosing who I want to top will be soooo hard. There's so many options, so many ways to cheat. Like, I could say Peter Parker for all three because I would let Peter be my slutty whore so fast, especially Tom's with those cute eyes and puppy face, perfect to shoot ropes on and a perky little ass to absolutely demolish. I mean, Tom's Peter wears a skin-tight suit that literally wraps around his ass, how could he not be seen as a slight bottom when it's so easy to ogle everything since he's putting it out in the open! But I won't choose him for these, that would be too easy.

I think I would choose Bucky to be the one I top, though. I don't really have a good--or even a specific--reason pointing me as to why I feel this way. I just do. His ass would be so beefy and hairy and I know he would probably be a dom bottom but fuuuuckkkk I would love to make him a mess. I also love the head canon that Bucky was used during his time as a Hydra soldier and it makes me want to give him a good experience where he's the bottom, but is in control and can work through his trauma to start feeling more comfortable with himself sexually after being treated like a toy for so long for other people to get off with.

I would also pick Steve if I could, and preferably have both him and Bucky on me. Thor would also be hot because the idea of topping a macho god who values his manliness and him losing all that to become a big fat mindless slut when he gets some dick would be soooo hot too. Plus, he has a lot of hair to pull on, I guess that benefit could go towards Bucky as well depending on what era he's in.

For sucking my dick and using their mouth to get off, I would have to choose Matthew Murdock again. I know, I know, shocker. But god I can't get over his lips, and by extension, his scruffy beard. Imagine it burying itself between your thighs when he takes your cock to the base, the scraggly hairs tickling you and feeling soooo good against your skin. Not to mention his moans, the way he does it whenever he's in pain is how I imagine he would do it when his lips are around your cock, sending all those vibrations through you. And fuck just the thought of making him gag on it and then slowly pulling him off (even better if he's pretending to be more impaired in your dynamic than he already is- so you're holding the side of his head or his hair or cheek and guiding him off of you) before you slap your dick over his face. Making that older man, someone who is usually put-together and cocky and confident, now a total slut for your dick. His forehead is so big too- I keep saying that I would loooooveeee to write SLUT on it in sharpie, and even cum on his forehead and his red-lens glasses. Just make him a total mess ugh

[widowsofchaos]

𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thor belly laughs, “When is she not?”

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so was he.

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

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

Thor watched on in amusement.

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

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

“Excuse me, point break?”

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

“More like Judas!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

“Are you ready, my love?”

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

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

“I promise.”

---

It’s idyllic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thor, where are we?”

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

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

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

Is this a coming to Jesus moment?

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

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

“Why are you crying?”

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And so can she.”

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you thinking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you’re all his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both of you are falling asleep under the warm blankets.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

“An insatiable wife, I have.”

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

[forgaeven]

do u guys wanna see smth my coworker gave me—

[peach-fiz]

What's more concerning from a writing standpoint is Watiti treated tlat as if it were the last Thor movie but still left a lot unanswered about him as a character. Neither Hemsworth or Watiti thought there were going to be any Thor movies after this and both were surprised at the premiere when it said Thor Will Return at the end and even though I like Watiti's Thor movies he treats him more like a joke than a viking warrior with anger issues and attachment problems that genuinely has emotional issues that need to be addressed the same way the mcu is doing Bucky and Wanda.

Thor's problems are always laughed at and Bucky and Wanda's are taken seriously because in the only movie they're actually addressed Thor is fat and therefore the comic relief. If he isn't hot he isn't taken seriously and it bothers me a lot more than it should even though I very much love Fat Thor. After TDW I haven't taken much of anything seriously about him. I enjoy the installments because I'm not going to make myself thrive on hatred when it has good parts but it kinda hurts to see your comfort characters trauma shoved aside when Wanda fans get the "I support women's wrongs" shit and that mf tried to kill a child (don't get me wrong I adore Wanda and hate MoM but still). It's just a tricky subject because I still enjoy installments where he's absolutely wrecked with shitty characterization but like-

Okay you know what? I don’t want this to get lost in tags. Basically, Thor is allowed to have feelings and be messy and imperfect all on his own without it having much if anything to do directly with Loki. Or even indirectly. A huge amount of Thor’s character arc has to do with his relationship to Odin, and his relationship with who he himself is outside of being who he was brought up to believe he was meant to be.

Like he should not have been 1500 years old the first time his mother tells him he can be himself. And see, the trade off of this is that Thor has almost no self-worth nor self-actualization outside of who he thought he was supposed to be. And when the person he was supposed to be fucks up so badly (in his mind), that half the universe disappears…

Well, who is he after that? What purpose does he have? He can’t be the king he was expected to be, because that person doesn’t actually exist.

And because he can’t be that version of himself because of his trauma and grief and guilt, he doesn’t know who he is at all. And so the traumatized, grieving version of himself, the one that can’t get off the couch and has completely, as Chris Hemsworth said, “checked out” isn’t the king he was expected to be, so why bother even trying? He needed some time to not have to try. Valkyrie gets it, she was right in the same place, so she picks up the slack for him, which makes it that much easier to check out more and more. By the time Rocket and Bruce show up, he’s basically decided that this new version of himself is happy, while he’s right on the verge of a breakdown pretty much at all times.

He’s been taught his whole life not to show his people his feelings. His dad’s advice to him about having feelings was basically, go drink, and put on a goddamn happy face because a future king needs to keep his weird gross sadness to himself.

So Thor does exactly that: his feelings are too overwhelming to translate into productive anger (how he usually copes), so it turns inward. And that’s not good because he’s been told not to show his feelings so many times. It’s ingrained. So he drinks and he pretends to be happy, but it doesn’t mean he’s got any sort of sense of identity.

He leaves with the Guardians to try a different version of himself, to middling success in terms of helping him form his own identity, one that had started to heal from all the horrible things that have happened in a time period that, to him, is like a long weekend.

It’s a journey he’s still on, and ultimately it only peripherally has much to do with Loki.

[peach-fiz]

fat thor appreciation indeed!!!!!! you are so cool -misterqi

HIHIHIHIHI NO U R SO COOL IM SO HAPPY IVE FOUND SOMEONE ELSE WHO LIKES THE CHONKY BOY-

(pls take this doodle as an offering to be mutuals)

[holylulusworld]

Tummy Bunny

Summary: You love his big tummy.

Pairing: Chubby!Thor Odinson x GN!Reader

Warnings: fluff, the reader is obsessed with his belly, a hint of low self-esteem (Thor)

He’s tall. He’s thick. He’s got a big tummy. Thor Odinson is simply perfection to you.

If only he’d see himself the way you see him.

Most of the time he comes to you, he needs food and a place to stay for a while.

“Can I have a slice of pie and coffee,” he shyly looks your way. “Please.”

“All for my favorite customer,” you wink at him and point at the best spot at your little café. “I hope you’re hungry. Not many customers came today.”

“A shame,” he says more to himself than you. Thor looks around the empty café, remembering the days gone. Not three years ago this place was filled with people and their chatter. Now it’s deserted, like most places in this world. “Why do you still open it every day?”

“Some of my customers still come around,” you give him a sad smile. “It’s their routine to not lose their mind. I guess they are lonely.”

“Hmm…” He nods thoughtfully. “All my fault.” Thor sighs deeply and drops his eyes to his big belly. “I could’ve killed him. I should’ve aimed for the head.”

“What? No.” You wrinkle your forehead. “It is what it is, Thor. I think things happen for a reason. Maybe we finally value the lives we are given more.”

“I value your life, and the light you hold,” Thor looks at you, and his eyes begin to sparkle. “It’s a light I haven’t seen in years.”

“You are too nice,” you place a plate filled with his favorite pie onto the table. “I can see the light in you too, Thor. And strength, and honesty. I admire you and your…” You trail off as your eyes drop to his belly. You lick your lips, wondering how’d feels to be in his arms and snuggle into his belly.

“I know that I gained a lot of weight,” he sniffs and looks at the pie. “I shouldn’t eat more pie, right?”

“I like it…I mean…” clearing your throat you try to take your eyes off his belly. “I-I like your belly. It’s soft and big and…”

“Oh…OH!” His eyes sparkled again. “You like my belly?” Thor cocks his head. His eyes roam your body, and he licks his lips. “Really?”

“Hmm…” you shy away from Thor. The intensity in his gaze has you trembling. “I like your belly.”

“Do you want to touch it?” He rises from his seat, faster than expected from a tall and chubby man like Thor. “Come here, my sweet tummy bunny.”

You press your lips together and whimper. “Thor.”

“It’s all yours to touch if you want to,” Thor says, holding out his hand. He pats his belly with his other hand. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” He hastily says, seeing the hesitation in your eyes.

“No, it’s…uh…I’m a tummy bunny,” you bite your lower lip. “I like it when a man has a belly and is a big bear. You’re more to cuddle and all.”

��“A cute little bunny all for myself,” Thor’s features darken for a moment, and his eyes sparkle again. “Tell me, bunny. Do you want to hop onto my belly?”

You wring your hands, hesitating for a moment.

“Y/N?”

“Yes…”

Tags in reblog.

[kittygawa--jr]

should be making myself food instead i'm thinking about brucetony to avoid thinking about the fic i wanna work on

[princessdeedee]

THOR MY BELOVED

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

😳

[streets-in-paradise]

I haven't finish the fic i'm close to post yet, but I already wanna open requests for Thor cause i'm fixating again.

[holdmytesseract]

Loki: *paces slowly and intimidately up and down the room, almost like a predetor*

Loki: As a prince of Asgard and heir to the throne, I've been taught how to fight. I fought a lot of wars in the name of my home; saturated sacred grounds with my blood and that of my enemies. Nowadays, it's my duty and privilege as an Avenger to do the same for your home. For Midgard. Just like my brother, I swore to protect this realm - and I will.

Loki: *stops and turns, then crosses his hands behind his back and takes in an elegant, godlike posture*

Loki: I won't hesitate. I won't yield. I am a prince - a god. Nothing fears me. Nothing in this world will be able to bewitch me and cause the loss of focus and the needed coldheartedness. Nothing-

Little Ella, suddenly barging through the ajar door and interrupting her father: Daddy!

Loki: *starts to smile and completely loses his stoic, threatening and serious demeanor* Hi, baby girl!

Loki: *crouches down to catch her and pick her up* What do you got here, princess?

Ella: Daisy tain! *proudly holds up the daisy chain she made with you*

Loki, smiling even brighter: For me?

Ella, nodding: Uh.Huh.

Loki: *helps Ella's small hands to put it on his head*

Loki: Thank you, princess. *presses kisses against her chubby cheek*

Ella: *wiggles and giggles excitedly in Loki's arms*

Loki: *lets her down on the floor again* Go and make one for uncle Thor as well.

Ella: *nods eagerly and storms out of the room again*

Loki: *clears throat and turns back to the huge monitor inside the conference room; putting back on his stoic, threatening and serious demeanor* Apologies, gentlemen... Where was I?

Some of the most important politicians: *blinking and just staring at Loki*

a/n: This lil' blurb came kinda out of nowhere - and ahhh, I absolutely love it, hehe. 🤭🥰

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