Thor Odinson Collection

Thunder

Summary: With a distant storm rolling in, you can't help but long for a certain Thunder God.

There’s a warm sense of comfort that comes with the distant roll of thunder. An incoming storm system moving slowly across the area as you curl into the cool sheets of your too-empty bed. This storm is gentle compared to the strength of a real one - a storm that’s generated by an actual God. One that you were missing quite dearly this night.

The golden-haired man was busy assisting his friends on a mission, somewhere far away from the town you lived in a - facing an enemy he may or may not choose to tell you about. Sometimes, he preferred his ancient tales compared to his more recent encounters.

He never gave you a date for his return, just that he would return to you. That was something you could also be assured of. And you would hold that thought carefully against your heart as you waited - trying to go through the steps of your days without thinking too much about his absence. Trying to ignore that void that seemed to fill your very being.

As lightning flashes outside your windows and the wind seems to pick up - the trees creaking and scraping against the roof - you find yourself drifting off to sleep, curled up on your side of the bed. Wishing for the man you had come to love to be at your side once again.

You’re awoken, sometime later, by a large booming crack of thunder - as though the storm is looming directly over your head. 

But you know that sound - it’s one that can’t be perfectly recreated by the weather alone. There’s an endless bounty of ancient power there that even mother nature has no control over. 

You make to sit up and look out the window, but your door is already being opened. With a very soft creak, your Adonis seems to be surprised to see you awake. His cautious features turn to a blooming smile as he crosses the threshold, kneeling before you on the floor. Hair wet and face damp with droplets of rainwater.

Tracing his brow and cheek with a content finger, feeling yourself smile when a large hand falls upon your covered waist.

“Little bird,” he greets with a heated look, straining to be closer to you yet.

Your finger falls to the bow of his lips, before tapping his nose with a bashful giggle.

“Darling.”

His eyes flutter closed with a warm moan. 

You can’t help but cup his cool cheek in your hand, which he happily nuzzles into. Dropping a lingering kiss to your palm as he stares up at you under hooded eyes.

“Knew it was you,” there’s a wonderful feeling that comes from his stubble against your smooth skin.

“Ah,” his voice is deep and rich and entirely distracting. “Were you expecting me then, dove?”

You could get lost in the blue of his eyes.

“No, but it’s a welcome visit.”

Thor hums again before placing one more kiss upon your skin, this time to your wrist which he holds delicately between his fingers. 

Then you’re hit with a sense of anxious thoughts. Sitting up more fully, you ask, “You are staying for a while… aren’t you?”

This wasn’t your average relationship by any means. And though he was entirely reassuring and sweet, thoughts of that nature seemed to plant themselves in your mind whenever he was away for long.

The god’s hands rest on your knees, his face tilted up to stare into your eyes, “Of course.”

Kissing him is like the warmth of a summer’s day; languid and slow and enticing you down. Passion only held back with the embers of burning desire and a steady hold. 

Large hands slide their way up your body before coming to rest on your cheek and the back of your neck - fingers just barely curling into the hair at the nape. He’s kneeling on just one leg now as the other is bent forward to reach you better, hitting the edge of the bed as he covers you with his presence.

Still in his armor, still wet from the storm raging outside. Hair pulled back into a loose hold, strands falling forward and framing his chiseled face.

His fingertips send little sparks and jolts as they caress you and the kiss deepens with the tilt of his head. A nose nestled in against your own, stubble rough and wonderful. And then a low rumbling breath against your lips as he rests his forehead against your own. Hearts beating desperately together as days and weeks of waiting erupts into one stormy night.

“Stay?” you ask again, voice little more than a whisper above the thunder.

He exhales, ragged and deep, “Always.”

And then his lips are upon yours once again and you wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself as he pulls you tight against his body, refusing to let you sit so far away from him for a moment longer.

The storm continues with a waning fury as you move together under the sheets, lost in the passion of electric desire.