Diana had not even for a moment considered that Thor might not want to hug her, or that she should ask permission first. And perhaps they were past that point, but Diana wouldn’t have known the difference. The Amazons, and the Greeks, were fairly close and touchy by nature. Diana was not particularly modest and had never been, but on an island full of women, there had been no one to make any of them feel ashamed, or that they needed covering. No, that honor had fallen to Steve Trevor, when he’d taken Diana out into London in her armor that he’d deemed “too scant”. Diana had yet to see a pencil skirt deflect bullets, but you know, sometimes the humans were just so stubborn.
Such was the distracting things that bubbled up in her brain when her skin tingled under Thor’s hands and her face was buried in his hair, but Diana’s focus returned as she stepped back, and smiled. What else was there to do in the face of that laughter, rolling over her like the thunder it so resembled? Diana paused for a moment, almost frozen, as she considered the bevy of nicknames that could come from this, and then she bugled laughter as well.
“Oh, no.” Once her giggles had calmed, she simply looked to him, that grin still on her face. And were her eyes sparkling with just a little more mischief, yet again? Oh, that poor Thunder God. “What would you make me Goddess of, Thor? It wasn’t as if anyone else bothered.”