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Thor can hear them the whispers and chants, of the people that believe. The people that want a ravenous thunderstorm to end the drought.
They pray to him, for a crackle of thunder, for thr glorious sight of the beacon of lightening. He smiles as he hears them.
From all over Midgard, all around, for different reasons.
Pleas.
Prayers.
Praises.
Devotion.
He stares around the warrior table, celebrating their win against another realm, cheers ring every few moments.
Thor still feels incomplete in his victory. Something grounding, something— his thoughts halt, an angered complaint breaking past the barrier.
‘This god that you dare sacrifice me too? He won’t end your pain.’
‘Thor my Sire see what they do to me!’
‘They try to take what is yours.’
‘Thor Odinson see what these people are attempting to do to me! You never called for sacrifice!’
‘What kind of God are you for allowing this!?’
‘Never visiting, why should I worship you?’
‘You are just like those other gods! Feeding off of our fears and yet not rewarding devotion.’
Thor blinks, his gaze roaming over the grand room he finds Loki perched in a corner, book in hand.
“Brother.” Thor calls out an idea forming in his mind he’d pay this voice a visit.
Loki’s green gaze lift from his book to catch Thor gesturing to meet outside. The younger sibling was deciding to leave and this would be a good opportunity to not return to the boisterous event.
The two brothers meet upon the quaint balcony.
“Is another battle upon your mind?” Loki muses, Thor shakes his head.
“Midgard, they are choosing to sacrifice, I hear her pleas and complaints.” Thor explains, thumb tracing the smooth stone of the wall.
“Ever the hero. What purpose do I serve in this grand plan? Shouldn’t you request the Bi-Frost be opened for Odin’s heir?” Loki raises a brow when It seems apparent that Thor does not want a certain all seer to know.
“Ah, you want me to take you to Midgard.” He concludes.
“I’d prefer that brother.” Thor wonders what Loki must be thinking, he himself never requested but there was something unfulfilled within his chest. Perhaps saving this maiden could quell it.
“Alright brother, meet me in your chambers, however I have my own business upon Midgard.” Loki walks away cape drifting in the air as he moves.
Thor watches, impatience setting into his fingers, crackles of lightening dance on his palm.
Loki opens up the portal to Yggdrasill. The tree stands with the branches, Thor searches, Loki walks the knowing path towards the branch of Midgard.
“How many times have you traversed?” Thor wonders trailing behind his brother.
Loki chuckles, “I’d rather you not know.”
“Now where is this distressed damsel?” The raven haired brother enquires.
“I believe,” Thor pauses, offering Loki his hand and tapping into the prayers he heard from the snow capped place.
“Very well,” Go towards there, Loki points to the branch displaying a snowy storm.
“How shall I get back?”
“Here, tap this seven times, you will be teleported back to your chambers.” Loki hands a trinket to Thor, beads tied together with .
“Alright.” Thor steps off, Loki watches turning to his own destination.
The townspeople hold up flaming torches, borders of crowd, men grabbing onto a figure in scarce clothing. You shiver.
Though Thor observes your eyes alit with a rage.
“You think Thor will forgive you?!” You bellow, her voice the same as Thor heard.
“Leave me!” You roar, thrashing the bindings on you tighten.
“He doesn’t care, he hears not my prayers! What will he answer you!” You yell.
The lightening crackles upon his fingers again.
Thor admires your eyes showing fire.
A thought crosses him. How would you look on the cusp of being broken by him?
You pause your fight, as gasps echo Thor stands on the rock you were to be tied upon.
“My people.” His voice booms, thunder rumbling in the distance.
Everyone falls to their knees, you stand defiant, still displeased. You still think he’s here to take you.
“I have come to take your sacrifice. Comply and your people shall be blessed.” He looks over everyone, extending his arm to you.
“Please.” Your voice thick.
His eyes shine with mirth when you take his hand. You have curses on the tip of your tongue for this townsfolk.
“Sire, they,” your eyes water, shivers wreck though your form.
“Fret not sweet devotee, I heard your pleas to save you. They shall perish for laying a finger upon your unwavering devotion.” He whispers in your ear, taking off his cloak wrapping it around you.
His woodsy scent engulfs you with his warmth.
“Perish?” Your brows raise, you never meant grave harm.
Thor cups your cheek, a bright light taking over his eyes, the lighting and thunder boom above. Storm clouds settling in, “You called upon needing protection did you not?”
“Y-yes.” You admit.
“You have sworn your devotion to me have you not? No matter what I ask?” He tilts his head, observing you.
Eyes tracing over your body.
You pull the cloak over you, he chuckles.
“I have, Sire.”
“Then let me help you. You may thank me later in a way I deem fit.” Thor shifts back, turning to the people who decided to cause harm.
“Turn around, sweet one.” Thor says, as you turn away.
The haunting screams don’t last long. A dull buzz echoes as the silence is piercing only the howling wind drowns the remains of the screams the clearing held.
Thor grabs you by the waist.
“Lead me to your home.” He instructs.
“You, they—,” you look at the singed bodies.
“I tolerate not their horrific behaviours. My devotees know I only need prayer not sacrifice. Those are barbaric ways. I have different methods of prayer my dear, tell me your name?”
His hand is warm around you, light blue eyes mirthful. You give him your name, the God grins as you lead him to your home. The remainder of the village still asleep.
Your home at the end of the border. Thor smiles admiring the quaintness. You open the door for him, biting your lip as you see the mess.
“I believe I gave them way easily.” Thor clicks his tongue seeing the state of your upturned home. You drop the cloak to clear the small bedding for him to sit.
“I, I wish I could have made you more comfortable, Sire.” You worry of his displeasure.
“You may use my name, as you did in prayer.” He perches on the bed, a crackle of lightening on the make shift stove ignites a flame. You sigh in content at the source of warmth.
“Would you, would you care for a meal?” You look up at him.
“I would, however, I wonder if you would deny me.” He muses, the temperature has your flesh peek through the thin fabric of sacrifice.
“I do not understand? Do, do you want me to pray?” You wonder, eyebrows furrowed.
“In a sense, sweet devotee.” Thor stands, making his way to you in long strides.
“Tell me, have you laid with another man?” He questions, your skin heats. A bead of sweat trickles down your neck.
Thor chuckles, “I am only a scarcely patient man, devotee.”
“I have, S-sire—Thor,” you correct, his thumb brushes over your jaw, he grasps it observing your features, tilting your face side to side.
“Lay down, I want you to pray to me. No matter what do not stop.” He instructs, “If you stop, I will not reward your devotion. Do not question me, follow my word.”
You look at the bed, “I,”
His eyes are alit again, “As I say devotee. Lay, down.”
You scramble, laying on the bed, the tongue you were taught, the hymn of his praise.
Thor smiles, making his way to you, bending your knees, your words falter, he squeezes your inner thigh in warning.
You swallow cold air greets your drawn apart thighs, Thor settles between them.
“Th-Thor…” you pause again, as his lips trace your inner thighs.
“Devotee. Do you not want to thank me? I protected you. I’m simply taking what is mine. What you promised to me. What you have vowed in those sweet hymns.” He explains.
“This?” You look at him, he cups your mound, middle finger on your bundle of nerves. A current pulses from his finger on the nub you keen as the sensation travels up your stomach.
“Continue my sweet devotee, your voice called upon me. I am simply rewarding you.” Thor’s eyes are a thin rim of blue, the electric sensation returns your hips lift. A moan escapes your lips.
“So responsive.” He gleams, your wetness pools on his palm. His tongue greets and you fumble over your words again as he hums against your entrance.
“Divine.” He commends, “However, I never asked you stop the hymns.” Your stomach tightens.
“Seems you have a lot to learn.” His hands trace up your sides, you begin to sing again.
“Continue.” He grasps your breasts, nipples hardening, his thumbs and index fingers pinch each a jolt of current moves through the nubs, you moan the words, Thor grins wickedly, watching you lose focus.
“I see you enjoy that, making a mess of my armour.” His thigh flush against your core, the leather coated in your arousal.
You gasp as the current jolts again, his mouth latches onto one nipple and his fingers return to your clit. He suckles on your nipple as the other and your clit are subjected to the torturous electric current, your hands move to his hair.
Thor enjoys the struggle of wanting to push him away and pull him closer. He switches to the other side, your hips have you rut against his palm as the current evokes a need within you.
“Keep singing sweetness,” Thor’s hands roam your body, random jolts against your clit or nipples, he enjoys each time you stumble over your words.
The current spreading through your inner thighs, lips wrapped around your clit, your voice grows breathy, your hymn turn into begs, two thick digits enter you, your walls squeezing around him, tongue flicking over your nub.
Preens, and whines fill your home, Thor’s groans against you, as though he begins to unravel the taught thread holding you at the seams.
His fingers rub over a spongy spot, he chuckles, the current from his fingers cause you to moan his name, your hips lift his ministrations upon your clit do not relent. Thrusts of his fingers don’t stop every flick over the spongy spot accompanied by his electric current.
You’re a withering mess, every time you feel he will let the coil snap allow you into bliss he stops. You beg, beg, beg.
He relents not, enjoying the way he has you dancing along the edge with him. His own length hard, aching.
“Do you want release, devotee?” He moves away from you.
“Please, please, Sire.”
“Apologise then,” he grabs your breasts, you cry out, tears escaping your eyes.
“Sire—,” your voice breaks, his lips wipe the tears.
“Aw, devotee, you wondered what kind of god am I? Very benevolent when I am not accused.” The fingers inside you return, the current jolts through you, thumb circling your clit, bliss is within reach you sob as he stops yet again.
“Oh sweet thing, you tears have me so hard. Apologise. I shall give you what you want and more.”
“I-I’m sorry Sire, I didn’t I was being—,” You moan, gooseflesh raises, he isn’t touching you yet you feel the current hum, building in crescendo as the coil winds in your stomach.
“Keep apologising.” Thor warns, watching you writhe and hips lift, cunt clenching around nothing.
Mewls, moans and breathless apologies fall from your lips, you look so beautiful he thinks, he continues letting the electric current lead you to bliss.
Your orgasm hits with a cry, your arousal seeps all over, coating your thighs and the sheets.
Aftershocks wreck through you, a thin rim of blue enters your hazy vision, then you are turned upon your hands and knees. Then you feel a burning stretch.
Thor’s girth and length massive, he sinks inch by inch. Moaning at your tightness. Hands gripping your hips.
“Might have to keep you for myself, devotee. A cunt as sweet and tight. Oh sweet, sweet darling.” Thor chuckles, you moan as he bottoms out, he presses his palm over your lower abdomen.
He presses a chaste kiss to your mid-back. What should be a soothing gesture only spurs on the current across your skin again.
“Feel myself right there.” He groans as your cunt spams to squeeze his cock.
“Want to milk me don’t you? Look at your pretty tears, all for your god, your saviour. You asked for me correct. Here I am.” He begins to move, first slow then he begins to speed up.
“Y-yes.” you whimper, his grunts only having you grow slicker, aiding his movements.
“Prayed for this haven’t you, prayed for me to fill your darkest day. Here I am.”
Wet squelches and skin slapping he guides your hips to meet his thrusts. Your moans echo in the silent night, thunder rumbles outside.
Thor pulls you against him, your kneeling, his cock splitting you apart, massive you can’t form a coherent thought, his hands seize your breasts playing with your nipples.
He tugs and pulls, the current returns and he chuckles darkly.
“Oh you love it, your cunt loves my ability, just wants to keep me inside her. Fuck,” Thor keeps thrusting into you.
He’s going to keep you with him. His hand returns to your clit, tapping with each tap a current filled jolt.
You scream his name as each tap on your clit is in sync with his cock hitting the spot inside you, your walls spasm pulling him back inside. Wanting to place him there permanently.
Your lips part for a prayer of his name and plead for him to guide you to the bliss. Your arousal gushes around his cock, you moan more as the electric jolts keep spasming your clit. Arched against him lips parted in a silent cry as your orgasm takes over you, toes curling. Making you thrash in his grip.
His warm seed coats your walls, his lips spill praises, “Such a pretty cunt, all mine for taking, milking my cock, filled with my seed. Perfect little sacrifice for a god aren’t you?”
Thor moans into your ear, you’re breathless pleas music to his ears, you feel so full, hazed mind. Craving the release craving the reward. Craving him. He keeps thrusting as if he never reached his peak.
“I’m not yet done, devotee, you promised. Whatever I wanted.” He cups your jaw, kissing you sloppily, hips still moving against you, his free hand taps the trinket seven times.
You feel a softer mattress under your knees, your eyes open in the midst of his claiming kiss. Your home no longer present, the walls in colours of red, grey and gold.
“My little devotee.” Thor chuckles, “Welcome to your new home.”