lokisergi:

“Little Red Thunderhood had often been told to stay on the path when visiting his grandmother Bestla’s house…There were wolves and worse that lurked in the woods of Jotunheim…”

Ever since @virushoney drew her Wolf!Loki, I’ve been embarrassingly stricken with the idea of Wolfki knotting Thor. The new hood-cape Comic!Thor design nailed my coffin shut.

Plus, bonus happy wolfki. Who’s a good boy! not you

illwynd:

I guess there was a bottom Thor day? Here are some of my favorite bottom Thors. Not an all-inclusive list. All bottom Thors are lovely and good. Just the first few that come to mind.

Thor who is hesitant at first, not sure he’ll like it, with some social hangups niggling at him, discovering to his shock just how good it feels and how much he enjoys it. Clutching desperately at the bedclothes as he’s opened up for the first time, experiencing it all with the thrill of the forbidden heating his cheeks, then easing into simple physical pleasure. He has a brief moment of regret at the years he’d spent turning up his nose at the idea and how much he’d missed out on, but then again he’s glad because it means that it is special now, something he’s only ever experienced with his brother, something just between them, and he likes that.

Or dubcon bottom Thor, who has to be forced into it, resisting, grumbling, refusing with each word, but never quite managing to fight back—perhaps because that would mean striking back against his brother, or perhaps because part of him is uncertain—and his protests fade halfway through, as he’s pushing his hips back into each thrust, defiant, as he’s clenching his teeth against the urge to moan. It is so much simpler if he never has to say yes. It is so much more satisfying if he can struggle against the magical bonds his brother puts on his limbs, the feeling of strength that has met its match. And Loki knows just what he needs, grinding deep inside him, so by the end he spills and he does not even need to doubt that Loki made him feel such wondrous things. He simply had no choice.

Or powerbottom Thor who has always taken pride in just how much he can take, who likes to prove himself, and also likes just how much he can blow a top’s mind. He finds the biggest ones he can, wanting to be overpowered and overwhelmed, so he can prove that even that will not defeat him. He goes to Jotunheim, finds a tavern and wagers his body in a wrestling match against a giant twice his size, and he is not disappointed to lose. Even when his opponent is revealed to have won by trickery, Thor does not care. He takes every inch, until he is stuffed full, and he glories in it.

Or generous bottom Thor, who takes his vicious, desperate brother to bed and spreads his thighs for him. The shock on Loki’s face, and the mad scramble to take before the offer can be rescinded. Loki manages to be both filthy and reverent, and Thor loves him. It’s plain on Loki’s face and in every smallest motion how awed he is and how wrapped around Thor’s little finger. It’s plain that to Loki, having Thor beneath him is a gift, and one he’s not sure he deserves. One he thinks he might be stealing. And Thor loves that he can wrap his limbs around his brother, pulling him deeper, and kiss him, moaning against his lips, to tell him he’s wrong.

Or bottom Thor who is the most sensual creature, a creature of storm and fury. As he loves the intensity of battle, the strain of muscles and the sweat of exertion; as he loves the sensory treat of good food and strong drink and rich songs and tales; so too does he love being wrestled onto his belly and lavished with a soft, wet tongue, then filled almost to his breaking point with brutal thrusts, an expert hand stroking and squeezing his cock as well, and cruel fingers scratching his skin and pinching his nipples, all while a sly voice whispers in his ear.

Or arrogant young asshole bottom Thor, who knows just how desirable he is and loves to tease, playful. He’s good with his mouth and good with his lightning, and those who would have him will be swearing their loyalty before they know what has happened. They will be panting after him, giving him everything he asks for, for only a smile. They will be buried balls-deep inside him, thanking him for the privilege and obeying his every whim. They’ll be watching as he sprawls out sated and laughing afterward, merely hoping he will ask for more.

Or tender bottom Thor who needs to be held. Who spends his days as Asgard’s crown prince and must cast aside responsibility sometimes, to put himself in someone else’s hands. He is soft and sweet beneath endless kisses. He loves to be taken care of, slim fingers sliding through his hair, making it into a long, smooth plait. Gentle arms around him, a body rocking against his. What he needs most is to know he is loved, cherished, and Loki’s focus on him is thorough. Thor feels the intensity of it, like a wildfire, and one that tends only to his whim.  

Or Thor who is “somehow” always managing to get captured by his evil brother, “somehow” always ending up in chains in the villain’s bed, struggling less than effectively and feigning to protest while Loki has his wicked way with him. He never mentions to anyone, of course, how his protests always turn to writhing whimpers halfway through, or how hard he comes when he feels Loki’s cock throbbing inside him. After all, it’s the only way they can be together these days.

Or dominant bottom Thor who enjoys making Loki work for it, pinning him down and sitting on his face, and only after an orgasm or two finally giving in to Loki’s pleas to be allowed to take him. But even then Thor shakes his head and laughs and commands Loki to stay just where he is, to stay completely still. Thor will stop if Loki tries to take control; instead, Thor straddles him and rides, grinning at the way Loki twitches and gasps with the difficulty of obeying. “Good boy,” Thor soothes when Loki very nearly succeeds, only shaking and bucking at the very end, and Loki blushes and squirms at the praise.

Or fertility god Thor, thick thighs spread wide, the softness of his skin and the roundness of his belly still tingling from the kisses Loki had placed all over his body, and now he sprawls out, luxuriating in the feeling of Loki sliding inside him again, where it’s already so wet from several rounds before. Outside, the rain pours down and the thunder rumbles. Here, in bed, Thor is warm and happy, and part of his awareness is out in the fields, the green things unfolding from seeds, the fruits growing heavy in the trees, all of it connected, all of it connected to him. And part is here, where Loki fucks him fast and tender, gropes blindly at his chest, spills inside him yet again. Perhaps in another month this will be most comfortable on his side, one leg drawn up, his belly grown large, but for now Loki lies atop him and kisses him, and this is everything.