Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Thor was a boy, his father would tell him that the working man was a happy man, while the idle man was a miserable one.

Thor was now learning that quote had no real basis in reality.

He was busier than he had ever been, cleaning up the mess made by Laufey and her son, his brother. The mess that had scared many Asgardians into feeling mistrustful of one another and their own All-Father.

There was also the work that was left behind by his mother, who was currently recovering from the brutal stabbing and poisoning at the hands of her own adopted son.

Each day Thor rose with the sun, visiting his mother's gardens and her own wing of the palace. He fed the cats and weeded the gardens, watering them with a smattering of rain before putting on his full regalia and attending to the needs of normal Asgardians.

Everyone was on edge, people had lost loved ones and funerals were to be arranged. Thor cared deeply for his people, and seeing them in such a state made him feel so distant. They did not always thank him for his assistance, with him being chased out of homes and off properties more times than not. The All-Father had failed to protect them from his own son, why would another one of his boys be any help?

Thor returned to Thrudheim far after the sun had set, exhausted and worn to the bone.

After the first few weeks he had realized he put on weight and had let his hair grow with abandon. His stomach and thighs were softer, and his body hair had become almost unruly.

He didn't have time to groom himself. Nor did he really have the motivation.

There was no-one to truly impress or awe in Asgard. Everyone knew him, everyone already had expectations for what they wanted him to do and be.

On Midgard he was a near mythical figure, something larger than life to look up to and revere.

He missed it.

He missed Midgard more than he probably should have.

There were people down there he cared deeply for, not only his brothers (and sisters) in arms in the Avengers, but also the mortals he had grown friendly with and the mortals he loved.

Well, the mortal he loved.

Would it have been pathetic to mention how much he thought about Jane Foster?

He worried about her, knowing that she was alone by choice in a mostly unforgiving world, with an unforgiving profession and unforgiving people she served. Her exhaustion was almost always prevalent and tangible, but she made space for him. She gave him the spare key to her apartment.

He kept it in a small wooden box he kept other treasures in, mostly rocks from his childhood and the occasional small item Midgardian children would hand him in thanks.

Jane was a very guarded woman, but she let her defenses down for him, and he grew to love her.

The small, surprisingly heroic healer that went out of her way to save others to the own detriment of her own being.

She probably believed he had abandoned her.

Thor sighed and began removing his regalia, tossing each boot to the side of the room and tearing off his cloak. Each article of his armor fell to the floor unceremoniously, and he stepped over what he wore in the previous days.

He sat on the bed only wearing his braies, leaning on his elbows and shutting his eyes. Guilt was eating up at his insides, he could use the viewing room to peek down at Midgard, but if he did that the feeling of abandonment would be too much to bear.

He had promised Odin that he would not go back down until his mother had healed, and even then, his father had only scoffed.

Maybe his attachment to Midgard was pathetic in a way. But the relationships he had developed and the people he knew were such a large part of his life. Thor not only served Asgard, but Midgard as well.

As he took deep breaths he allowed his mind to wander back to Jane, only able to imagine her dismay at the realization he would not be returning.

She would close herself off to the world again, throw herself back into her work.

Or she would seek comfort in the arms of another.

Thor's jaw clenched at that thought. Remembering the human doctor she had once cared quite deeply for.

The one that let her leave when she was weak.

The one that very obviously still liked her.

Would she accept the doctor back into her life after having another person she loved abandon her? Would she curl up within his embrace like she did his own and place her head over his heart?

Would she make the same soft noises from her throat when they kissed? Or quietly ask him to touch her?

Anger was replacing the melancholy, which was a welcome change.

Thor knew he shouldn't rile himself up like this, that he was getting mad at his own imagination.

But it was something to feel, something to get his mind off of his own self pity.

The thought of her laying with someone besides himself made his blood boil, the heat in his veins causing his cock to stir.

At his return he would have to show this hypothetical new partner of hers just who staked his claim.

Jane would deny it, she always did. But the people around them knew. Thor understood that the entirety of the Avengers accepted their relationship, even going as far as to slightly poke fun at the two of them.

She could deny that they were 'dating' all she wanted. Because they were not 'dating'.

Jane Foster, Nurse and Official Avengers Medical Personnel, was his.

And everyone knew that.

Feeling possessive and riled up, Thor allowed his hand to slip beneath the band of his undergarments, where he took hold of his semi-hard shaft and peeled back his foreskin, circling the head of his cock and gathering pre-seed on the pad of his thumb.

When he returned the first thing he would do is seek Jane out. Then proceed to dispose of any other male attention she may have that he deemed unnecessary.

No competition was ideal, because then he could immediately get into what he really wanted to do.

Which was get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

Jane would tell him to get up, and that it was fine. But it wouldn't be fine, and they both would know it.

He would apologize and explain, and she would understand. Looking down at him with softened eyes and smiling the strange far away smile she got on her face only with him.

She would be the most beautiful woman on Midgard, and he would tell her that.

Denial would follow, but to prove his point he'd pull her close and tell her that for all the weeks he was gone he could only think about her.

Then he'd eat her cunt like a man starved.

Just the thought of pulling her close and placing a leg over his shoulder was causing him to throb almost painfully, his pre-seed now weeping from his cockhead in thick droplets.

He stroked himself, firmly squeezing his shaft and running his fist from base to tip. His foreskin sliding back and forth with each slow pump.

Jane would make those little noises she always did, because she was scared of letting her voice truly ring out. She'd whisper to him that he was doing to much, but make no effort to stop him.

He would stop if she really asked, but she never did.

After feasting upon he her would rise to his feet and pull her close. She would feel just how hard he was for her, and she would get another faraway smile on her lips and stroke him.

Despite their size difference and her overall lack of power behind her grasp, it would make him weak.

Thor's own hand was nothing like her own. They shared similar callouses on their palms but that was where the similarities ended.

Truthfully her hand barely did anything for him, and she knew that.

Which is why she was usually quite eager to let him lift her up and seek out her entrance almost immediately.

He wouldn't even bother with removing his entire regalia, just making sure to free his cock. But she would allow him to fully undress her. So he could see her breasts and smooth stomach.

Thor even wanted to gaze upon the scar on her breast she said was unsightly.

He would press her up against the wall or a dresser, then rut into her like a beast.

Jane would grow louder, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling at his hair. She'd kiss his neck and jaw, trying to silence herself.

But it would be for naught.

Speeding up, Thor gripped himself tighter, trying to emulate her cunt squeezing around him.

But his calloused hand was a poor substitute, even though it brought him pleasure it was still just a reminder of what was unavailable to him.

His mind wandered to when he would spill inside her, praying to the Norns that his seed would catch.

Pulling out he would slip a finger inside her, which would make her shiver and mewl out. Jane was always so sensitive after her climax, almost to the point of it being overwhelming for her. But he needed to keep his seed from spilling out, and he would assure her that she was doing wonderful.

Jane would look at him with heavy eyes, and kiss him.

As the fantasy closed, his balls drew up tight and he spilled into his fist, rolling his hand over the head of his cock as thick ropes of cum filled his hand.

His inner thighs shook and he sighed loudly, finally riding out his orgasm and glancing down at his hand.

Shame filled his gut, rising up to his chest and throat.

A prince and protector of his people should not be masturbating like this, but here he was.

It was just too much to bear if he did not let his mind wander to those he had left behind.

Thor got up and headed to the washroom, peeling of his braies and running the bath, tomorrow would be more of the same, he would help his people, get scolded by his father and miss Midgard.

At this point, was he even worthy of what he had been given?