begitalarcos:

Through every forest, above the trees
Within my stomach, scraped off my knees
I drink the honey inside your hive
You are the reason I stay alive

post AoU, pre Civil War

***

He had never seen her like this before. She looked soft,
delicate, and surprisingly approachable. He supposed it was part of the
illusion. She was still as deadly and sharp and cold as always, but with more
than a personality or false identity.

Long blonde hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, and
she wore a white dress that seemed to follow around her, floating on the
breeze. Beneath it he could see the outline of her black underthings, or maybe
it was a slip, and there were no
underthings.

He didn’t know.

He hoped, dared to dream he might be able to find out.

Running a hand through his hair and then down his jaw,
wincing at the smooth skin, for before he’d truly become acclimated on Midgard,
he’d accepted and lost a dare by the Son of Stark, resulting in the loss of his
beard, he began to walk towards her.

She set down the glass of something that could only be
alcoholic and fizzy and turned to look over at him. It took a few moments
before recognition flared over her beautiful face, and then it swiftly returned
to the neutral and curious calm it was before.

“Thor, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.”

The bite to her words told him she had not wished to be
found, but because it was him, she would allow it. He smiled in what was best
described as a gentle manner and nodded to her respectfully,

“Stark sent me to retrieve you. To quote him, ‘Whatever far
off lands she may be in, covered in blood, or money, we need her back.’”

The woman who he’d known as Natasha Romanoff rolled her eyes
slightly and shook her head slowly,

“Of course he did. Always sending someone else to do the
dirty work. Typical Stark.”

She eyed him carefully, and she paused on his face, so he
hastened to explain,

“I was the unfortunate victim of a bet gone wrong.”

He rubbed a hand over his face again, and this time he saw
something flare in her green eyes, and it shocked him. He took a cautious sniff
of the air and his more than mortal senses rushed to his aid, she was intrigued
and more than that, aroused by his
changed appearance.

Well, that was different.

She gestured for him to sit down, to join her, and he
complied, his mind still afire with possible explanations. Why was she
affecting him so? He was not the target of her seduction for the day. Or was
he?

It had been so many cycles on Asgard and months on Midgard
since he and Jane had bid farewell, upon the realization that what they had,
was merely a fixation and a brief interest. She’d confessed to dreaming and
wishing to see his brother Loki, and though he was somewhat reformed, and
confined to Midgard where he could do no damage, Thor still was cautious to
trust him completely.

But he respected Jane’s wishes, and left her be.

Now she was off studying in Iceland, and no doubt being
visited in her dreams by Loki.

A touch of Natasha’s hand on his brought him back to the
present, out of his own mind, in a heartbeat.

“Is everything okay?”

Blonde brows met with concern upon her forehead, and small
wrinkles formed on the previously smooth skin there.

“Of course. I just need a drink.”

Natasha smiled, with a hint of teeth this time, and Thor
marveled at how dangerous it made her look.

“I can help with that.”

She lifted a hand, and the gunmetal of her watch caught the
sunlight, as well as alerting a nearby waiter.

“Something for my friend.”

She looked to him, awaiting his order.

“Just the strongest and oldest whiskey you have.”

It was not going to do much in the way of intoxication, no
mere mortal drink could, but it would taste delicious.

Thor had a sudden thirst and it was nothing to do with lack
of drink.

Natasha took another sip of her own drink and watched him
from over the edge of the glass.

“So, will you come back?”

*

Natasha could hardly believe it. Of all people, Stark had
sent the mighty Thor to convince her to come back to the States, work for
SHEILD again and pretend the world hadn’t ended six months ago.

It had taken her a minute to realize it was really him, and
not just some tall, bulky and blonde guy with dazzling blue eyes.

No, it was the God of Thunder, reduced to an errand boy.

Without his beard, he lost ten years from his age.

Natasha shifted slightly in her chair as he sat down beside
her. She was never one to notice men she technically worked with, except for
Clint…but that was ages ago.

Thor was incredibly handsome. To think he’d come all that
way for her, and he wouldn’t probably take no for an answer, Stark’s orders,
she was almost tempted to ask him if he was gonna toss her over his shoulder
and drag her home.

Instead, she smiled wickedly and spoke,

“Maybe. Depends what’s in it for me.”

She eyed him up and down again, being less than subtle, and
if she didn’t know better, she swore his eyes darkened and his cheeks flushed.

God’s couldn’t blush could they?

Well, unless they were being faced with pure unadulterated
Widow charm.

He coughed, clearing his throat or hiding something else,
and she bit her lip, watching him fumble over his words.

“Stark assured me he’s gotten everything taken care of. A
passport for you, new ID’s and credentials, they’re all waiting in my room, in
a bag that’s full of new clothes, and key’s to a new car in Stark Tower. I
think he said it was a Spyder.”

Thor was grinning at the pun, and Natasha made up her mind.

“I’ll come with you, if you’ll take me there.”

Thor’s perfect dark blonde brows met in a furrow on his
broad noble forehead,

“Where?”

Natasha reached over to stroke her finger on the back of his
hand, watching the hairs on his arm lift,

“Valhalla.”

Judging by the way his jaw went slack and his hand tensed
beneath her touch, he knew exactly what she was really asking.

She licked her lips, and tilted her head slightly,

“So where’s your room?”

With a growl, Thor leapt to his feet and tugged her right
along with him. Her drink glass smashed to the floor in shards of glittering
crystal as she collided with his very firmly muscled chest. His arms felt like
steel girders holding her completely still.

“Like this? Is this what you want?”

He whispered directly to her ear, so for all the rest of the
bar they looked like two lovers embracing, while he spoke sweet nothings to
her, dark promises of what was to come.

Natasha’s eyes fell shut and she bit her lip to keep the
moan from escaping her throat.

“Yes. Handle me like I’m not made of glass, please.”

He was grinning now, and he pressed a quick kiss to the side
of her cheek, just shy of her jawline, and then was dragging her away, swift
steps leading towards the elevator in the lobby.

This was really happening.

Natasha was about to fuck a god.

How come she was the one who felt unlimited power?

*

Thor wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but since Natasha
seemed to enjoy following his lead, he kept on making it up as he went.

Arriving outside his hotel room, he retrieved the card key
from his jeans and carefully slipped it into the reader, as the light turned
green, Natasha snaked a hand out to yank open the door.

“Eager little thing aren’t you?”

He murmured, and she looked back at him with a smirk,

“Who are you calling little?”

He lifted a brow at her,

“I am taller than you by at least a foot. When you aren’t wearing
those.”

He nodded to her high heeled sandals, and she shrugged,

“I need them to be average height. You may be right.”

She kicked them off and away and began to shift out of her
dress, but Thor’s large hands on her shoulders halted the movement.

“Wait. Slow down. Let’s not rush this.”

Natasha sighed,

“That’s right. You’re supposed to be in control. But I just
want to be naked first.”

She’s smirking again, and he decided it was the right time
to kiss her.

With his hands on her, he pulled her close, and leaned down
just as she tilted her head up, perfect pink lips parting seconds before his
mouth met hers.

She tasted like sun ripened strawberries, and with a sharp
bitterness like the driest vodka.

She must have been drinking something with both before.

His hands gently slid down her arms, feeling her skin
breaking out in goosebumps, and he paused briefly to settle his hands on her
hips, feeling the curves and muscles of her stomach.

She was shaking slightly too.

He broke away from her, panting slightly, and narrowed his
eyes in concern,

“Allright there?”

Her eyes opened slowly, as if waking from a dream, and she
nodded,

“Very much. But you’re wearing too many clothes.”

Her hands moved to the front of his red and white flower
printed Hawaiian shirt, and she’d wrenched it open in about five seconds,
revealing the hard planes of his chest, and he involuntarily flexed, hoping to
impress her, for some strange reason.

Her hands splayed across his bare skin, and he was the one
shivering then.

“Wow.”

He grinned,

“What’s that?”

She looked up at him with what could only be described as
hunger in her gaze,

“You really must be a god. You have an eight pack. I’ve
never seen one of those.”

He glanced down at himself, and shrugged.

“Lucky I guess. You like it?”

Natasha cocked a brow at him,

“Like it? I love it. In fact, I want you to bend me over
this table right here, right now and flex those muscles.”

Thor had only a moment to process her words before she was
putting her hands on his waist, tugging his pants, undoing the button and
lowering the zip, then turning away, flipping her blonde hair back, and wiggling
her quite delectable ass at him in invitation.

Her hands were braced on the cherry wood table that leaned
against the lush couch in the middle of the room, and he was at a loss for
words.

They were still several steps away from the bedroom, but she
was rapidly making him lose control. Despite the fact that he’d agreed to take
charge, she was molding him and silently ordering him to do exactly what she
wanted.

His blood was burning through his veins, singing with his
desire for her, and there was no point in waiting. He could do as she asked
her, and then take her into the bedroom and take
her again.

His hands lifted to cup her ass, then slid down to lift up
the white sheer fabric and he peeled up the tight black underskirt beneath.

She had no underwear on.

His fingers began to quake, and he swore he could smell her.

Fruity and floral, he wondered just how she’d taste, if she’d be as tempting or delicious
as the golden apples from the tree of Idunn.

He stepped up right behind her, pulling her flush to him, so
she could feel the evidence of his arousal, and she moaned, pushing herself
even closer, begging,

“Fuck me Thor.”

How could he deny that request?

He gripped her hips, gently at first, and thrust inside her
slowly, acclimating himself to the feel of her, and nearly groaning aloud at
the sensations threatening to overwhelm him.

It had been nearly a decade in Midgardian years, and just as
long on Asgard since he’d had a lover, or even a one night fling, and he was
sorely out of practice.

He hoped he could hold on long enough not to disappoint her.

“Harder! Remember, I’m not made of glass.”

The many secrets of Natasha Romanoff had not been revealed
to him, but one thing Steve Rogers had let slip was the fact she was nearly as
immortal and immune to injury as himself.

Thor did as she asked, tightening his hold on her waist, and
he began to pump in and out of her, faster and more roughly, until he was
losing his vision, nearly going blind from the pleasure, and he felt her tense
up, gasp his name, and shudder through her climax.

There was a sound of ripping fabric, and Thor realized
moments later that he’d torn her dress when he came, thrusting madly into her
as deeply as he could, before pulling out of her and spinning her around to
kiss her with a ferocity he didn’t know he had.

She bit his lip, and he tasted blood, but before he could
question, make sure she was all right, he felt her smiling into the kiss.

His hands found her hair, and he yanked a handful to the left,
forcing her head to the side so he could savagely kiss her neck, leaving marks
that he wished wouldn’t fade in less than a day.

But they would.

He picked her up in his arms, letting the shreds of her
dress fall to the ground, leaving her completely naked, and carried her to his
room, unwilling to stop touching her for even a moment.

His bed was a king sized one, and perfect for them both.

She laid back on the bed, and let him crawl onto her, but
the second he leaned in to kiss her, she wrapped a leg around his waist and
flipped them, putting herself on top, and she smirked down at him, blonde hair
framing her face like a irreverent halo.

“Now I’m going to ride you.”

He wasn’t about to protest.

He watched with bated breath as she climbed onto him, and
when she sank down on his nearly painfully hard cock the noise that left his
mouth was ungodly indeed.

Gods didn’t beg.

But for her, he could.

She rode him within an inch of his life, and he was prepared
to promise anything, otherworldly things and treasures, if she would just let
him come, when he felt her inner
muscles finally clench around him, and her eyes fell shut as she orgasmed, lips
parting in bliss.

He thrust up into her feebly a moment later, chasing the
small bit of oblivion he so desperately needed.

It wasn’t enough.

She moved off of him, and he tugged her close, stealing a
kiss again, and then he smirked against her lips,

“Care to test the strength of my headboard?”

Natasha grinned.

“I’d love to.”

She pulled away from him to get up on all fours, grasping
the top of the headboard until he thought her knuckles were as white as her
dress, and she looked back at him with a wink.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

He stroked a hand down her bare back, feeling the ridges of
her spine, and spotting a few ragged scars that were silver against her creamy
skin, and she shrugged,

“I’ve heard that before. Now quit messing around…God of
thunder.”

He sighed, and shook his head.

“No respect, I swear…”

It wasn’t until a few hours later that she completely wore
him out, and climbed out of the bed to investigate the bag full of items to
help facilitate her return to the states.

Thor leaned on his elbow, watching her move, walking around
his room bare as the day she was born, and no less beautiful than a supernova,
or even a galaxy.

“Will it really be this easy?”

She asked, looking over at him with something that he never
imagined he’d see.

Hesitation. Concern. Maybe even a touch of fear?

“According to Stark.”

He didn’t really know.

“You know this won’t last.”

Her words are back to being ice.

The momentary thaw he had with her, has ended.

“What?”

He asks.

He knows.

“This peace. I’m a soldier. I’ve been in enough wars. Been on
both sides at once. There’s something coming. Something big. Are you going to
stick around?”

Thor licked his lips and shrugged,

“I’ve been on Midgard for many a spat between mortals, and I
take no pleasure in watching your people slaughter each other. I shall do what I
can.”

Natasha nodded.

“It’s too bad Stark’s world peace initiative went haywire
and tried to kill everyone. It could have been great.”

Ultron.

Thor shivered at the memory of those few days.

He’d been glad at that time that he and Jane were no longer
in contact. It meant she’d been perfectly safe.

“When do we leave?”

Natasha was watching him, and for a moment he glimpsed that
same warmth.

“There’s a private plane waiting for us on the tarmac of the
International airport. We just need to call him.”

Thor glanced over to the bedside table, where a slim black
metal bar lay.

His cellphone. He barely used it, except to keep in contact
with Stark.

“Right. Let’s get dressed then.”

Thor sighed.

He was regretting accepting the job of bringing her back,
because now he didn’t want to leave the paradise of the island.

But there was work to be done.

“As the lady commands.”

He winked at her, and was rewarded with a soft smile, a fracture
in the mask.

Seconds later it was perfectly back in place.

*

END

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