Work Text:
Thor might not be the most perceptive man to have ever lived, but to say that he feels acutely attuned to the way Jane is nearly vibrating with tension beside him would be an understatement. Perhaps it’s because he himself is just as tense as she, but he’d wager his awareness is born more from his desire for her than anything else.
He can tell that she’s trying to not seem like she’s rushing Darcy, Erik, and the young man named Ian out of the apartment, but Darcy seems miraculously able to read the room, and extracts a promise from Jane to meet her at the “lab-slash-your-mom’s-house” the following afternoon. The trio leaves shortly after that, and he and Jane are left alone.
He opens his mouth to speak, but Jane doesn’t allow it. She seizes the front of his armor and drags his mouth down to hers. Unexpected, yes, but welcome. He leans down into her, relishing the taste of her mouth. She’s not like he remembers--the reality is so much more lush and wet and wanting than he remembers from their first kiss. Her smell, her taste--details he’d hardly been able to commit to memory before fate had forced them apart so soon after it had forced them together.
He decides then that he wants to spend as much time as she will allow memorizing the taste and smell and feel of her. To have it so completely for such a brief moment, only to lose it again, would be akin to torture.
They broke apart, and an almost pained noise sounds from Thor’s throat.
“I know we have a lot to talk about,” Jane says, her breath warming his lips and he desperately wants to kiss her again. “But details can wait because I know that I want you.”
“And I, you.”
She pulls him down again, her strength surprising him, but he doesn’t fight her. He loves her conviction, her certainty, her directness. She knows what she wants, and he feels a warmth swell in his chest because what she wants is him.
She pulls back once more, and he chases her lips before she speaks again. “Condoms,” she blurts.
“Come again?”
“Do you have condoms on Asgard?”
The Allspeak helpfully allows him to understand her meaning. “Yes, though they are typically meant for callow youths who haven’t learned to yet control their fertility.”
Jane pulls back further, the tension in her body held in check for a moment as she looks at him with a strange look on her face. “Haven’t learned... fertility control.”
“Yes. It’s a subtle magic, but one that all must learn.”
Jane laughs, slapping a hand over her forehead and looking at the ceiling. “Aliens,” she says. She looks back at him. “And I suppose sexually transmitted disease aren’t a thing?”
“Oh, they are,” he says. “But, as it is, I suffer from none.”
Jane’s hand on her forehead goes to cover her eyes and she chuckles again. “All my Star Trek fanfiction fantasies are coming true.”
“Sorry?”
She pulls her hand away from her eyes and it finds its way to his shoulder, still smiling. She’s beautiful. “Nothing. I’ll tell you some other time.”
“Jane, if you are more comfortable using the condoms, I will not object. I will do anything to ensure your unconditional pleasure--”
She interrupts his speech with another kiss, much like their first, hard and messy and toothy, and she pulls back much, much too soon. “That’s sweet. And hot. But I’m all for ditching condoms, especially because I don’t actually have any right now. Come on,” she grabs his hand and turns them, leading him towards her bedchamber.
She freezes in the entryway, which he takes as an invitation to start kissing her neck from his excellent vantage point behind her.
“Don’t judge the mess,” she says, a bit breathy.
“What mess?” he murmurs into her skin. She giggles.
“You’re kind of perfect sometimes.”
She steps forward, but Thor snakes an arm around her waist so that he can follow her, his lips still trailing along her neck and jaw.
Jane melts back into his embrace and makes a sound that he swears is the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “We’re gonna--” She sighs again. “We’re gonna have to take our clothes off at some point if we want this to happen.” She freezes a little in his arms. “Wait, clothes off is a thing for Asgardians, right?”
Thor chuckles. “Aye. Unless you’re in a hurry, then only the necessary bits are removed.”
“Sounds about right,” Jane says, and finally nudges away from him. “And hopefully we’ll be able to revisit that necessary bits conversation later,” she says with a heavy gaze over his armor.
“It would be my utmost pleasure,” he says, purposefully deepening his voice and delighting in the visible shiver it elicits from her.
Jane shucks her loose sweater and tosses it on a chair that is filled with other discarded clothing items, swiftly followed by her shirt.
Thor, following suit, reaches for his magic, and static electricity goes over his body as his armor phases out and leaves him standing in the thin shirt and pants he typically wears underneath when in his full armor and mail.
He looks to Jane again, only to find her staring at him with fascination in her eyes. “I have literally so many questions,” she says.
He winks at her. “I am very willing to let you study me in great, great detail.” He steps forward, eyes sweeping over her. “As long as I might return the favor.”
“Yes to all of that,” Jane says, and takes a fistful of his shirt in her hands and pulls him towards her. He laughs into her lips as they meet again at her demanding hands, and he cups her face in his, fingertips twining into the fine strands of her hair.
Those hands release his shirt and trail down his waist, a meandering but quick journey to the fabric’s edge, and she slips them underneath. Her hands are warm against his skin, and the press of her fingers against him makes him want her skin everywhere. Thankfully, they seem to be thinking the same thing and her hands quickly climb up to his chest, rucking the shirt up with her.
He helps her take it off and toss it aside, their lips only parting long enough to get the garment off of him. It’s like they’re trying to make up for lost time, jam two years of kisses that could have been into a handful of heated minutes. Jane’s hands push him gently, guiding him, and he lets himself be led, stepping backwards until he feels the bed behind him.
He sits, but drops his hands to Jane’s hips before she can follow him. A true tragedy it is to lose her mouth on his, but-- “I want to look at you,” he says softly, and his right thumb runs over the soft skin over her hip bone, just above the hem of the jeans. Her skin is a soft tan, looks more like something she was born with rather than something earned in the sun. The soft, fine hairs over her stomach are raised at the slight chill of the room, and he follows the line of her abdomen up to where her breasts are concealed by what looks like a soft warrior’s binder. He swallows heavily when he notes that her nipples are poking through the fabric.
His left hand climbs up, his fingers questing beneath the soft, elastic band, running just barely into the valley between her breasts. She’s so smooth under his fingers, like refined fleece, and he wants to see her. He meets her gaze, her pupils blown wide making dark eyes even darker, and she’s staring hungrily down at him and he knows what the answer to his question will be before he even asks it-- “Jane, can I see?”
She nods. He pushes his hand higher, forcing the material up until her dusky nipples are visible. “You’re gorgeous,” he sighs. She helps him dispense with the garment, and it’s Thor’s turn to pull her, moving her slight weight onto his lap with his hands anchoring her hips. The position puts her nipples perfectly in line with his mouth, and presses her heated core against his own.
“You’re gorgeous,” he repeats once more. As Thor leans forward to take a nipple in his mouth, Jane braces her elbows on his shoulders to give herself the necessary leverage to start grinding down on him. Her jeans are thicker than he’d prefer, but the roughness of the fabric creates an intoxicating friction against his thin trousers. Her moan is soft, a sharp, excited exhalation, when he sucks a bit harder, letting his teeth come into play. His hand leaves her hip to come up to the other. One of her hands fists in his hair in response, pulling lightly at his scalp; he growls at the sensation.
Her hips start to work in double time, and there’s a moment where he’s half convinced she’s going to find a way to fuck him through the layers of fabric that still stand between them. She breathes his name out, and that’s the catalyst to him wrapping an arm around her back and lifting her up. He places her down on the bed, and she’s looking at him with wide eyes and swollen lips and he’s hit with a wave of white hot desire running across his skin and ending at his cock.
Her hips thrust up against his again, a frustrated sound coming from her when he halts the movement with his hands.
“Pants?” Thor asks.
“Pants,” Jane answers, as though she suddenly remembered that they are not actually naked yet.
They each race to get off each other’s pants; Thor manages to get her jeans and panties halfway down her thighs, but Jane is quicker on the draw and has his pants to his knees and his cock in her hand in the same amount of time.
He shudders, lost in the sensation of her hand stroking him in firm rhythm. He buries his face against her neck, letting himself get lost in it for a few moments.
“Jane,” he moans, “Stars, Jane Foster, you will kill me.”
He maintains the presence of mind to let his own hand return the favor, finding her core and his first touch tells him just how wet she is. He feels a deep pride that she wants him, and it’s so different from how his conquests used to be, this desire for her so unique that it almost feels like a first in that sense too.
“Fuck,” she gasps when he finds her clit, and he likes that--likes that he can make her curse when he does something good for her.
“Yes,” he responds, and despite her hand’s rhythm on his cock going erratic, he feels rock hard just watching her face, feeling her warm wetness against his fingers. “Let me hear you, darling.”
“I need you inside me,” she gasps, hips still writhing up and against his questing fingers. She thighs strain against the jeans still around her thighs, and she makes a frustrated sound. “Fuck, the pants need to come all the way off first.” They both scramble to ditch their partially removed garments, and they are both fully naked. Thor props himself up on an elbow at her side, free hand returning to her soaked quim.
“Inside you like this?” he asks, and slides a single finger inside her. Her answering groan is gratifying in the highest degree, and his hips flex unconsciously towards her in response. Her face is tipped back, eyes squeezed shut in wild ecstasy.
“That’s--” She chokes when he presses his finger upwards teasingly before settling back into a normal pace. “That’s great, but--”
Her eyes pop open and she looks up at him, the ecstasy from earlier replaced by confusion. “Asgardians have like... I mean-- you... shit--” she chokes again when he presses up harder, and swipes his thumb over her clit.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he says, leaning down to kiss her. “Ask your question.”
“Intercourse for you guys,” she says. “It’s like--I’m not violating some taboo by saying I want this inside me?” She takes his cock in hand again, and he hisses, overly warm and sensitive to her touch.
“Not at all,” Thor says, making his swipes across her clit a little more aggressive on his next few passes. Her inner walls clench around his finger and by any and every god that has ever existed, he wants the same as she does. He can’t help but offer a little cheek, “I’d say that’s a common request during this type of activity.”
“God, your sentence structure is sexy,” she says.
He barks a laugh in spite of his current state of arousal, and he decides then that he very much likes sex with Jane Foster.
He adds a second finger, careful to make sure he doesn’t thrust them in too fast, but he can feel the stretch, and he doesn’t miss the slight wince that zips across her face before she can hide it.
“It’s fine,” she says, apparently reading his concern. “It’s just been a while.”
“For me as well.”
“We’ll just have to go easy on each other.”
“Not too easy, I hope,” he says.
She smiles, breaking in a gasp for a moment when he hits a particularly sensitive spot and swipes her clit at the same time.
“God, get in me,” she says then, eyes fixed to his. “I’ve had enough orgasms fantasizing about this over the past two years to last a lifetime, so I want the real thing.” She winces again, “Sorry, I get honest when I’m horny.”
He withdraws his fingers, trailing her wetness up her belly a ways before he reaches a nipple. He draws a wet finger around and around, smearing her juices there before diving down to take that nipple in his mouth.
“Fuck,” Jane whines. “Oh, fuck.”
He breaks away with an obscene pop. “It’s silly to apologize when I have been doing the same thing.”
“Jesus, fuck, okay then we need to stop talking about it and do it because if I have a shitty orgasm without anything inside me because I’m literally so turned on I’m--”
He doesn’t let her finish. With quick and efficient movements born of years of practice, he lines up his cock and pushes inside her with one swift movement.
The sound she makes is a high-pitched whine of relief, and he has to still for a moment, just being with her challenging his stamina in a way he hasn’t felt in many years.
“Jane,” he says, voice rough and shaky, “fuck, you are so hot and wet around me.”
Jane’s answering groan is deep, and he feels her hands tighten on his back. Her walls flutter around him, and he realizes with a start that she likes it when he talks.
He starts to move, just a few shallow strokes, and Jane gasps, “I am so fucking close.”
“Let’s get you there, then, shall we?”
“Please.”
He encourages her to hitch her legs around his waist and then braces himself above her. It doesn’t take much to push her over the edge this first time. He doesn’t go too hard or too fast, just a steady in and out, trying to find an angle that she likes. He finds an angle that has him grinding down on her clit and she’s gone, one of her hands fisting in his hair and pulling him down to kiss her to swallow her sounds of pleasure. Her walls clamp down on him like a vise and he has to break away from her lips to gasp at the feeling of her.
Thor fucks her through it gently, easing her down. Jane’s pants come deep and relaxed, and sweat glistens at her collarbones. “Gorgeous,” he murmurs.
Jane shifts under him, and she squeezes around him. “Did you come? Or do Asgardians stay erect after orgasm? Or is this part of the fertility magic thing? Or--”
“I haven’t come yet, no. And it’s a good thing, because if you can so thoroughly ask questions, then I clearly haven’t fucked you well enough.”
Her eyebrows raise. “Oh. Um. Ok. Uh, I might not... I might not be able to come again. I’ve always been one and done, but if you--”
He swoops down to kiss her. “I think I’ve just been issued a challenge.”
“Thor--”
“And as it would happen, I am very competitive.”
“If you want to try, then please be my guest.” She giggles a little, her smile sated and relaxed. He would change that.
Before she can protest, he is pulling out of her and then stretching himself across the foot of her bed. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze with his large frame, so he grasps her legs and drags her to the edge of the bed. He settles on his knees at the foot of it. She props herself up on her elbows to watch him.
“You spoke of fantasizing earlier,” he says, kissing the inside of her thighs in turn. “And I have fantasized of tasting you. Seeing what kinds of sounds fall from your mouth when I try to draw them out. See how good you taste on my tongue. Can I, Jane?” he asks, the musky scent of her filling his nose. “Can I taste you?”
Her breathing has changed from relaxed to sharp. She nods.
He doesn’t bother teasing her. It’s not about getting her worked up again--it’s about pushing her straight to another edge. So he loops his arms around her thighs, spreads her open, and sucks her clit into his mouth.
“Shit!” Jane exclaims, and he notices it’s not a pleasurable curse.
“Sensitive?” he asks.
“A bit. I didn’t--I didn’t hate that, but maybe just go a little easy for now?”
He tenderly licks her in apology, realizing that a bit of a teasing might be necessary for Jane. In this, he has infinite patience, and settles in. He looks up at her over the expanse of her belly to find, much to his surprise and satisfaction, that one of her hands has found a nipple, and her fingers lazily circle and tweak it.
He listens to her breathing, listens as it begins to grow quicker, louder, morphing into sighs and moans as his licks become more focused and pointed. He sucks her into his mouth again, this time her answering “Shit” is drawn out. He grins against her, and then sucks harder.
Her free hand reflexively shoots down to his head, pressing him deeper and harder into her, her hips flexing into his face.
“God,” she gasps. “This is new.”
Thor moans into her, and moves one of his arms down and away so that he can touch himself.
Jane seems to realize what he’s doing and says, “Fuck, that’s hot.” Then she’s pulling at his hair. “Get back in me this instant.”
Jane sits up and gestures at the pillows. “You got to be on top last time,” she says with a little pout.
“For five minutes!” Thor protests.
“Then we’ll switch halfway.”
Thor grumbles a little, but agrees, and Jane wastes no time after mounting him to slide herself down onto his cock. She braces herself on his chest, trying to find a motion that she likes. She settles on a steady rock that brings her clit down against him with every other pass, and her volume grows along with his own.
"Fuck, god, fuck, that's so good," she's mumbling above him, and he's answering her back, "You feel so good, you're so wet, fuck, fuck, fuck."
It's not the most articulate either of them have ever been, and Thor can’t seem to get his words out in the right order, or even in complete sentences; the way the thought forms in his head is so much more coherent than the fragmented fuck and Jane and so wet and so good that keep coming out.
It's when Jane stops with the words entirely that Thor thinks she's close, just sharp whines and loud moans and, by the stars, is it working for him.
He flips them, making Jane squawk in surprise, but the on-the-edge sounds she was making before quickly pick back up when Thor lifts one of her legs over his shoulder, and picks up a harder and faster rhythm compared to what they had before.
And he knows he has her, he has the wordless moans and gasps, her clenching hands, she’s right there, almost there, and so he tries to give her that last nudge, tries to put his words together in some semblance of a cohesive degree of seductiveness. He tells her I can still taste you on my lips and you taste amazing and you’re so beautiful and you feel so good wrapped around me and come for me, Jane and come all over my cock, show me how much you want this, show me, fuck, stars, you feel amazing
And then she is shouting her release to the ceiling, and it’s only a handful of strokes before he’s following her over the edge, holding back no longer and feeling the pleasure run through him like his lightning.
They rock together for a few more beats before they separate, kissing sweetly before Thor pulls out.
Jane sighs, her eyelids heavy, as they settle on their backs next to each other. She throws an arm over his stomach.
“I don’t know if I have the energy for a proper cuddle.” She raises her hand. “High five. That was... That was pretty good.”
He eyes her raised hand. “Only ‘pretty good?’”
She wiggles her fingers. “Really good.”
He high fives her.
A beat passes before he asks, “When you were talking about Star Trek fanfiction earlier--” Before he can get the rest of his question out Jane starts to laugh. It’s an infectious sound, delightfully warm and full. “What?” he asks through a wide grin.
She looks over at him. “Do the words ‘tentacle porn’ mean anything to you?”
“Er, I think the Allspeak wasn’t designed to parse that one.”
Jane just cackles. “I’ll explain it later. Let’s just--let’s just bask for a minute.”