A/N: All characters in this work of fiction are consenting adults.
Thor was still on his knees when reality tore open again.
Two portals snapped into existence with sounds like glass shattering. They weren’t elegant controlled like the Bifrost. These were raw wounds in space, unstable and violent, born from the collision of Malekith’s Aether-powered gateway and Thor’s lightning.
“Move!” Diana shouted, but there was nowhere to go.
The portals didn’t pull. They grabbed. Invisible hands of warped spacetime reached out and seized them, sorting them like some cosmic intelligence deciding their fates.
Thor felt Jane torn from Diana’s arms as the pull took him. Sif grabbed for his hand and caught it. The three of them tumbled through one portal while Clark and Diana disappeared into the other.
The sensation of falling through dimensional space without a ship was worse than anything Thor had experienced. His stomach tried to exit through his throat. His sense of up and down inverted three times in the span of a heartbeat. Colors that he didn’t even know the names of burned themselves into his vision.
Then they hit stone.
Hard.
Thor’s already injured body screamed in protest as he bounced once, twice, and finally slid to a stop against something that might have been a rock formation. Sif landed more gracefully beside him, already on her feet and scanning for threats. However, Jane hit the ground and didn’t move.
“Jane!” Thor forced himself up despite every instinct telling him to stay down. He crawled to her, checking her pulse with shaking hands. Still there. Weak, but there.
“Where are we?” Sif asked, her sword already drawn.
Thor looked around and his heart sank further. They were in a cave, but not any ordinary cave. The walls glowed with a dull orange light, and the heat was intense. He could see veins of metal running through the stone, some of them still molten and flowing like slow rivers.
“Nidavellir,” he said quietly.
“The forge realm?”
“Yes.” Thor picked Jane up as gently as he could. She was burning with fever, her skin pale and clammy. The Aether was gone, but the damage it had done remained. “We need to find shelter. Somewhere cooler.”
Sif nodded and took point. The cave system stretched in multiple directions, each tunnel identical to the last. The heat made thinking difficult, and Thor’s wound wasn’t helping. The illusion blade Loki had used might not have been truly fatal, but it had still cut deep enough to injure him.
They walked for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. The cave system was a maze, tunnels branching and reconnecting in patterns that proved that it was an intelligent design rather than natural formation. This had been part of the dwarven kingdom once, back when Nidavellir had been the greatest forge in all the Nine Realms.
“There,” Sif said, pointing to a side tunnel that looked narrower than the others. “The air’s moving. That means it leads somewhere.”
Thor followed her lead. His arms were getting tired from carrying Jane, but he refused to put her down. She’d been through enough already.
The tunnel opened into a larger chamber, and Thor nearly wept with relief. This space was cooler, protected from the worst of the forge realm’s heat by thick walls of solid rock. There was even a small pool of water in one corner, likely condensation from the temperature difference.
“Here,” Sif said, helping Thor lower Jane onto a relatively flat section of floor. “Let me see to her.”
Thor stepped back, watching as Sif examined Jane carefully. The warrior woman had field medic training like all Asgardian soldiers, but Thor had never seen her use it before. She was gentle, her normally stern expression softening as she checked Jane’s vitals.
“She’s stable,” Sif announced after a moment. “Weak, but stable. The Aether’s removal was traumatic, but she’ll survive.”
“We need to find a way back to Earth,” Thor said. “Or at least to Asgard.”
“Without the Bifrost? And stranded on Nidavellir?” Sif shook her head. “Thor, even if we could find a working forge, we’d need a dwarf to operate it. And the dwarves haven’t been seen in years.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“We survive. We find food, water, and shelter. And we wait for rescue.”
Thor wanted to argue, but he knew she was right. They were in no condition to mount any kind of expedition. He was wounded, Jane was barely conscious, and even Sif had to be exhausted from the fighting.
He sat down heavily, his back against the cave wall. The adrenaline was wearing off now, and everything hurt. His side where Loki’s blade had struck. His head from the dimensional travel. His heart from losing his siblings to the void between realities.
“You saved him,” Sif said quietly.
“What?”
“Loki. At the end, you threw Mjolnir to stop Kurse. You were trying to save him.”
Thor closed his eyes. “For all the good it did.”
“He saved you first.”
“I know.”
They sat in silence for a while. Jane’s breathing was the only sound, steady and rhythmic despite everything. Thor found himself watching her, this mortal woman who had somehow become so important to him. She’d faced the Aether’s power, survived its corruption, and still managed to keep her sense of humor and humanity intact.
“You care for her,” Sif said. It wasn’t a question.
“I do.”
“More than duty requires.”
Thor looked at his old friend. Sif was watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. There was no jealousy there, no accusation. Just curiosity and something that might have been understanding.
“Yes,” he admitted. “More than duty requires.”
Sif nodded slowly. “She’s brave. Foolish, perhaps, but brave. I can see why you’re drawn to her.”
“She sees things differently than we do. The universe, the realms, everything. It’s refreshing.”
“And terrifying?”
“Sometimes.”
Sif moved to the water pool and used her hands to bring some back to Jane. She carefully dribbled water onto the unconscious woman’s lips. Jane stirred slightly, her throat working to swallow.
Thor watched this with growing confusion. Sif had never been particularly warm toward Jane before. Respectful, certainly, but distant. Now she was tending to her with what looked like genuine care.
“She’s stronger than she looks,” Sif said, still focused on Jane. “Most mortals would have died carrying the Aether for even a day. She lasted so long.”
“She did.”
“And she was willing to confront Malekith directly. That takes courage.”
“Or madness.”
“Sometimes there’s little difference.” Sif sat back, satisfied that Jane had taken enough water. “Thor, I owe her an apology.”
“For what?”
“For judging her, at least in my heart. For thinking she was just a distraction, a phase you’d outgrow.” Sif’s voice was soft, almost vulnerable. “Even when she agreed to us. I was wrong about her. She’s truly worthy of you.”
Thor didn’t know what to say to that. He’d expected many things from Sif, but not this.
Jane’s eyes fluttered open. She looked around groggily, taking in the cave, the dim light, and the two faces looking down at her.
“Did we win?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“No,” Thor said gently. “We lost. Malekith has the Aether.”
“Oh.” Jane processed this for a moment. “Are we dead?”
“No. We’re on Nidavellir. The forge realm.”
“That’s the one with the dwarves?”
“Yes, though we haven’t seen any yet.”
“Cool. Always wanted to meet a dwarf.” Jane tried to sit up, failed, and let Sif help her into a more comfortable position. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Sif said, and there was genuine warmth in her tone.
Jane blinked as she looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers experimentally. “The Aether’s really gone.”
“Yes.”
“I can still feel where it was. Like a phantom limb.” She looked up at Thor with eyes that were clearer than they’d been in days. “I’m sorry I couldn’t hold it longer. Maybe if I had, we could have stopped him.”
“You held it as long as any mortal could,” Thor said firmly. “Longer. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
“Feels like it was.”
“Well, it wasn’t,” Sif interjected. “You survived something that should have killed you. That alone is an achievement worth recognizing.”
They got talking, and as he looked at them, Thor found himself smiling. This was absurd. They were stranded on an abandoned realm with no obvious way home, his siblings were lost to the void, Malekith had the Aether, and yet here they were, talking like nothing had happened.
Maybe that was the point. Maybe this was how they coped.
Jane laughed, then winced and clutched her side. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh. Everything hurts.”
“Rest,” Sif said. “We’re safe here for now.”
“Are we?” Jane looked around the cave. “This place is creepy. And hot. Really hot.”
“It’s a forge realm. Heat is expected.”
“Right. Forge. That means there’s metal, right? And tools?”
Thor caught on to what she was thinking. “You want to build something.”
“I want to survive. And if we’re going to survive on a forge world, we might as well use what we have.” Jane struggled to her feet with Sif’s help. “Show me around. Let’s see what we’re working with.”
They explored the cave system methodically over the next several hours. Thor’s wound had healed, and between the three of them, they managed to map out a decent section of the tunnels. They found several chambers that showed signs of dwarven habitation, though all of them were long abandoned.
In one chamber, they discovered tools. Ancient, covered in dust, but still functional. Jane’s eyes lit up when she saw them.
“Okay,” she said, running her hands over a workbench. “Okay, this is good. This is really good.”
“You know how to forge?” Sif asked skeptically.
“No, but I know physics. And engineering. Same basic principles.” Jane picked up what looked like a hammer, testing its weight. “If there’s heat, metal, and tools, I can make something useful.”
“Like what?”
“Like a beacon. Something to send out a signal that someone might pick up.”
Thor exchanged a glance with Sif. It wasn’t a bad idea, assuming anyone was listening. But it was better than sitting around waiting to die.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“Metal. Lots of it. And access to a heat source hot enough to work it.”
“The tunnels deeper in are hotter,” Sif said. “Some of them have exposed magma flows.”
“Perfect. Let’s get started.”
They worked through what Thor assumed were days, though time was hard to track without any sun. Jane directed them like a general commanding troops, sending Thor and Sif to gather materials while she figured out the forge equipment. Despite her weakened state, she refused to slow down, driven by a manic energy that Thor recognized as barely controlled fear.
She was terrified of dying here. They all were. But Jane channeled that fear into action.
Sif proved surprisingly helpful. She had a talent for metalwork that Thor hadn’t known about, and she fell into an easy working rhythm with Jane. They’d discuss designs, argue about approaches, and then work together to bring their ideas to life.
Thor watched them sometimes, when he was supposed to be resting. The way Jane’s face lit up when she explained something. The way Sif listened with genuine interest rather than polite tolerance. The easy physicality between them as they worked, Sif steadying Jane when she swayed, Jane touching Sif’s arm to get her attention.
It confused him. Not because there was anything wrong with it, but because he couldn’t quite identify what he was feeling as he watched. It wasn’t an emotion he was familiar with. It was something that made his chest tight and his pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with everything that had happened so far.
“You’re staring,” Jane said without looking up from her work.
Thor blinked. “Was I?”
“Yes. Very obviously.” She set down her tools and turned to face him fully. “What’s going on in that godly head of yours?”
“I was just thinking.”
“About?”
Thor struggled to find words. “About how well you two work together.”
Jane glanced at Sif, who was across the chamber organizing their metal supplies. “Yeah, she’s actually pretty great. Once you get past the whole threatening to stab people thing.”
“I heard that,” Sif called out.
“You were meant to,” Jane called back, grinning. Then, more quietly to Thor, she continued, “She’s been really kind. Helping me, I mean. Making sure I eat and rest. I didn’t expect that.”
“Neither did I.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No. The opposite, actually.” Thor moved closer, lowering his voice. “I’m glad you’re getting along. I care about both of you very much.”
Jane studied his face for a long moment. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that. The ‘very much’ part.”
“Is that a problem?”
“I don’t know yet. Ask me when we’re not stranded in a cave on a forge world.” Jane smiled, but there was something fragile about it. “One crisis at a time, thunder god.”
Sif returned before Thor could respond, carrying an armload of metal rods. “I found these in the eastern tunnel. Will they work?”
“Perfect,” Jane said, accepting them and immediately getting back to work. “Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking. We build a resonance chamber that amplifies electromagnetic signals. If we can generate enough power, we might be able to punch through whatever dimensional barriers are keeping us isolated.”
“And how do we generate that power?” Sif asked.
Jane pointed at Thor. “We have a living battery right there.”
Thor raised an eyebrow. “You want me to power your beacon.”
“Unless you have a better idea.”
He didn’t, so he agreed. The next several hours were spent assembling Jane’s device, which looked more like abstract art than any beacon Thor had ever seen. But she seemed confident, and Sif backed her up, so he kept his doubts to himself.
Finally, it was ready. They set it up in the largest chamber they’d found, one with a natural opening to the surface that would give the signal a clear path out. Jane made final adjustments while Sif stood guard and Thor prepared himself.
“Okay,” Jane said, stepping back. “I need you to channel lightning into this central node. Start slow, then ramp up gradually. The capacitors should store the charge and release it in pulses.”
“Should?” Thor repeated.
“Science is an inexact art. Just do it.”
Thor placed his hands on the node and called the lightning. It came easily despite his injuries, crackling down his arms and into the device. Jane’s beacon lit up, glowing with blue white energy that filled the chamber.
“More,” Jane urged. “We need more power.”
Thor increased the flow. The beacon hummed, then shrieked, then began to pulse with a rhythm that felt almost alive. Energy arced from it in waves, shooting up through the opening and out into Nidavellir’s orange sky.
“That’s it!” Jane was practically bouncing with excitement. “Keep it steady!”
Thor maintained the flow for as long as he could, but eventually, his strength gave out. He staggered back, breathing hard, and the beacon’s light dimmed but didn’t die. It continued pulsing, drawing on the stored energy Jane had mentioned.
“Will it work?” Sif asked.
“If anyone’s listening, they’ll hear it,” Jane said. “It’s broadcasting on every frequency I could think of. Someone has to pick it up eventually.”
They waited. Hours passed with no response. Jane checked and rechecked her calculations. Sif kept watch. Thor tried to rest and failed, too keyed up to sleep properly.
Then, on what Thor guessed was the third day, something changed.
The beacon’s pulse pattern altered. Instead of the steady rhythm Jane had programmed, it began responding to something. An answering signal, faint but definitely there.
“Someone’s responding!” Jane rushed to the device, reading the patterns. “They’re sending coordinates. A meeting point.”
“Where?” Thor asked, already on his feet despite his exhaustion.
“That way.” Jane pointed deeper into the cave system. “Maybe two miles as the mole digs.”
“Then we go.”
They packed what little they had and set off into the deeper tunnels. The heat increased as they descended, and Thor found himself supporting Jane more and more. She was pushing too hard, running on fumes and determination.
Sif took Jane’s other side without being asked, and together they made better time. The tunnels were treacherous, with loose stone and sudden drops, but they pressed on.
Finally, they emerged into a massive chamber. This one was different from the others. It was clearly maintained, with working lights and equipment that looked modern rather than ancient. And in the center, working at a forge that blazed with heat, was a dwarf.
Not just any dwarf. Thor recognized him immediately.
“Eitri,” he breathed.
The King of the Dwarves looked up from his work. His face was scarred, his eyes tired, but he managed a smile. “Prince Thor. I received your signal. Welcome to what’s left of Nidavellir.”
XXXXX
Clark hit ice so hard he created a crater.
For a moment, he just lay there, stunned. The cold was intense, beyond anything he’d experienced before. It seeped into his bones, making his usually invulnerable skin feel brittle.
“Clark!” Diana landed beside him, far more gracefully. She helped him to his feet, her divine nature apparently providing some protection from the cold. “Are you injured?”
“No. Just cold.” Clark looked around and his heart sank. They were on a glacier or ice sheet that stretched to the horizon in every direction. The sky above was a pale blue, and the wind carried ice crystals that stung even his Kryptonian skin. “Where are we?”
Diana tested the ground with her boot. “Jotunheim, if I had to guess. The realm of ice and frost giants.”
“Great. That’s just great.” Clark tried to fly and managed to get maybe ten feet off the ground before the cold made his muscles seize. He landed hard, cursing. “My powers are being affected.”
“The extreme cold is draining your solar reserves,” Diana observed. “You’re like a battery running low in freezing temperatures.”
“That’s a terrible analogy, but yes.” Clark tried to warm himself with his heat vision, but even that was weaker than normal. “We need to find shelter and figure out a way back to Earth.”
“Agreed. But first, we need to survive the locals.”
“Locals?”
Diana pointed behind him. Clark turned and saw them. Frost giants, at least a dozen of them, approaching across the ice. They were massive, easily fifteen feet tall, with blue skin and eyes that glowed red. They carried weapons made of ice that looked sharp enough to cut steel.
“They don’t look friendly,” Clark said.
“They’re not. Frost giants are hostile to outsiders as a rule.” Diana drew her sword. “Try to avoid killing them if possible. We’re guests in their realm, even if uninvited ones.”
The frost giants spread out, surrounding them in a loose circle. One of them, larger than the others and wearing what might have been armor made from frozen metal, stepped forward.
“Outsiders,” it said, its voice like grinding glaciers. “You trespass on Jotunheim.”
“We didn’t mean to,” Clark said, raising his hands in what he hoped was a peaceful gesture. “We were traveling through dimensional space and got separated from our group.”
“Then you will die here.” The giant raised its weapon.
Diana moved first, intercepting the strike with her sword. The impact created a shockwave that cracked the ice beneath their feet. “We don’t want to fight you!”
“Then you should not have come!”
The other giants attacked. Clark did his best to defend himself without using lethal force, but it was hard. His powers were sluggish, his reflexes slower than normal. A giant’s fist caught him in the ribs and sent him flying backward across the ice.
Diana was faring better, her god given strength unaffected by the cold. She moved like a dancer, her blade deflecting strikes and her shield absorbing blows that would have shattered mountains. But even she couldn’t hold off a dozen frost giants indefinitely without resorting to lethal means.
“Clark! The convergence point!” she shouted.
Clark blinked, trying to clear his head. Convergence point. The Kryptonian crystal. The knowledge it had given him about dimensional travel and the Nine Realms.
He focused, drawing on memories that weren’t quite his own. The crystals had shown him patterns, the way the realms connected and overlapped. There were points of convergence, places where the barriers between worlds grew thin. If they could find one, they might be able to force their way back to Earth.
But first, they had to survive.
Clark pushed himself up and dodged another attack. His heat vision lanced out, not to kill but to blind. The giant stumbled back, clutching its face. Clark grabbed another by the ankle and threw it into two more, buying them a few seconds of breathing room.
“Northeast!” he shouted to Diana. “There’s a convergence point about three miles northeast!”
“Three miles?” Diana kicked a giant in the chest, sending it sprawling. “We’ll never make it!”
“We have to try!”
They ran. The frost giants pursued, hurling ice spears and roaring in rage. Clark tried to fly again and managed maybe fifty feet before the cold pulled him back down. His powers were fading fast. The yellow sun that fueled his cells was half a universe away, and Jotunheim’s frozen environment was draining what reserves he had left.
Diana grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. She was faster than him right now, her divine nature unaffected by the physics that limited him. They ran across the glacier, the giants slowly falling behind but not giving up.
“There!” Clark pointed to what looked like a standing stone, ancient and covered in frost. “That’s the marker!”
They reached it and Clark immediately began examining the area. His Kryptonian knowledge told him that convergence points were recognizable by specific patterns in the local environment. Unusual ice formations, strange lights, areas where the temperature fluctuated without reason.
He found what he was looking for. A section of ice that glowed faintly blue, pulsing with a rhythm that matched his heartbeat. This was it. The thin place where Jotunheim and Earth touched on the cosmic scale.
“How do we open it?” Diana asked, standing guard as the giants closed in again.
“I don’t know. The crystal showed me where to find convergence points, not how to use them.” Clark placed his hand on the glowing ice and pushed with his mind, trying to will the portal open through sheer desperation.
Nothing happened.
The giants were almost on them now. Diana shifted her stance, ready to make their last stand.
Then Clark remembered something. The crystal had shown him more than just locations. It had shown him energy patterns, the way power flowed between realms. And a convergence point was just concentrated energy waiting to be released.
He focused his heat vision on the glowing ice, but not to melt it. He modulated the frequency, matching the pulse he could feel in the ice itself. Creating resonance.
The ice cracked. Light spilled from the fissure, warm and golden. The kind of light that came from Earth’s sun.
“Diana, now!”
She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Clark and dove into the light just as the frost giants reached them. They tumbled through dimensional space, the cold of Jotunheim giving way to blessed warmth. Clark felt his powers surging back as solar energy flooded his cells.
They emerged into daylight. Real daylight. Earth’s sun blazed overhead in a clear blue sky.
They were in a forest, somewhere temperate based on the trees. Clark didn’t recognize the specific location, but he’d never been so happy to see green leaves and brown land in his life.
“We made it,” Diana said, sounding as surprised as he felt.
“We made it,” Clark agreed. His skin drank in the sunlight like a man who had been starving for weeks. Every cell in his body hummed as the yellow sun’s rays poured into him, restoring what Jotunheim had stolen. His muscles loosened as his strength returned in a dizzying rush that made his head spin.
He felt invincible again. More than invincible. He felt alive in a way that bordered on feral.
Diana still held his hand, her grip tight. Her armor was scuffed and frost-rimed, the golden breastplate dulled by the ice they’d endured, but her skin glowed with that same divine warmth that had kept her from freezing. She turned to him, her eyes wide, breathing hard.
They stared at each other for a long heartbeat. Then something snapped.
Clark didn’t know who moved first, maybe they both did, but suddenly Diana’s mouth was on his, fierce and desperate. He kissed her back just as hard, his hands sliding into her dark hair, his fingers tangling in the strands that had come loose during the fight. The adrenaline still thundered through his veins, mixing with the solar energy flooding his system, turning every nerve into fire.
He lifted her effortlessly, the return of his strength making her feel light as air despite the weight of her armor. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her thighs clamping tight, and he pressed her back against the nearest tree. The bark was rough against her back, but she didn’t care. Her hands were already tearing at the clasps of his cape, ripping it free and letting it fall to the forest floor in a crumpled heap.
“Clark,” she gasped against his mouth, her voice raw. “I need you. Right now.”
He groaned, low and guttural, the sound vibrating through both of them. “Diana…”
Her fingers found the seam of his suit, tracing the invisible Kryptonian weave until she located the hidden release at his neck. She tugged, and the fabric parted like water. Cool air kissed his chest, but the sun was already warming him again. She spread her palms across his pecs, feeling the hard planes of muscle and the steady thud of his heart beneath her touch.
He yanked at the straps of her breastplate, her fingers clumsy with need. The armor came away in pieces, greaves, vambraces, and the heavy golden cuirass that had protected her heart for centuries. It clattered to the ground, forgotten.
Beneath it she wore only the thin black underlayer, almost sheer against her skin, clinging to the curves of her breasts and the flat plane of her stomach. Clark’s breath caught as he saw the way her nipples had already hardened, pressing visibly against the fabric.
He ducked his head, his mouth closing over one peak through the cloth, sucking hard. Diana arched, a sharp cry escaping her lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, nails leaving faint red crescents that healed almost instantly. She rocked her hips against him, seeking friction, and he could feel how wet she already was, the heat of her pussy soaking through the thin material between them.
“Off,” she demanded, her voice breaking. “Get this off me.”
Clark didn’t need to be told twice. He set her down long enough to peel the underlayer away, dragging it over her head and tossing it aside. She stood before him naked, glorious, her skin flushed and golden in the dappled sunlight.
Her breasts were full and heavy, her nipples dark and tight. The muscles of her abdomen flexed as she breathed, a warrior’s body sculpted by millennia of battle, yet soft in all the places that made his mouth water.
He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands sliding up her thighs, spreading them gently. She was glistening already, her folds slick and swollen. He leaned in, inhaling the musky scent of her arousal, then dragged his tongue slowly along her slit, tasting her.
Diana’s head fell back against the tree with a soft thud, her fingers threading through his hair.
“Gods, Clark…”
He licked again, deeper this time, circling her clit with the flat of his tongue before sucking it gently into his mouth. She bucked against him, her thighs trembling. He slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward, stroking that spot that made her gasp and shudder. She was so wet, so hot, coating his fingers as he pumped them slowly in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue.
Diana’s hips rolled, grinding against his face. Her breaths came in short, sharp pants. “Don’t stop… don’t you dare stop…”
He didn’t. He worked her harder, faster, until her thighs clamped around his head and she came with a broken cry, her body shaking as the orgasm ripped through her. He drank her down, lapping every drop, until she sagged against the tree, her chest heaving.
But he wasn’t done. Not even close.
Clark rose, kissing her again, letting her taste herself on his lips. She moaned into his mouth, her hands already shoving at his suit. The fabric slid down his hips, freeing his cock—thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip. Diana wrapped her fingers around him, stroking firmly from base to head, her thumb circling the sensitive crown. Clark hissed, hips jerking into her touch.
“Inside me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Now.”
He lifted her again, pinning her against the tree. She guided him to her entrance, slick and ready. He pushed in slowly at first, savoring the tight heat that enveloped him inch by inch. Diana’s nails dug into his back, legs locking around his waist as he sank fully inside her. They both groaned at the same time, savoring the sensation of his manhood buried to the hilt inside her quivering pussy.
For a moment they simply stayed like that—joined, breathing each other in. Then Clark began to move.
He thrust slow and deep at first, letting her feel every inch of him stretching her. Diana’s head fell back, her lips parted and her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. Her inner walls fluttered around him, gripping him like a fist. He could feel her heartbeat where they were connected, a steady throb that matched his own.
The sunlight poured over them, warming their skin, making sweat bead along their bodies. Clark’s hands slid under her thighs, holding her open as he picked up speed. Each thrust drove him deeper, harder, the wet slap of their bodies echoing through the quiet forest.
Diana met him stroke for stroke, hips rolling, taking him as deep as she could. Her breasts bounced with every movement, her nipples brushing against his chest. She raked her nails down his back, leaving red trails that vanished almost as soon as they appeared.
“Harder,” she gasped. “Please, Clark… harder.”
He obeyed. His thrusts turned brutal, powerful, shaking the tree behind her. Bark rained down around them. Diana’s moans grew louder, unrestrained, filling the clearing. She clenched around him, her inner muscles rippling, pulling him deeper.
Clark reached between them, his thumb finding her clit, rubbing tight circles. Diana’s eyes flew wide, a choked cry tearing from her throat as another orgasm built fast and fierce. She came again, harder this time, walls spasming around his cock, milking him.
The sensation was too much. Clark buried his face in her neck, teeth grazing her skin, and thrust once, twice more before he shattered. He came with a low, guttural groan, spilling deep inside her, hips jerking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him. Diana clung to him, trembling, riding out the aftershocks together.
They stayed locked like that for long minutes, their breathing ragged, and their bodies slick with sweat and release. Finally, Clark eased out of her with a soft, wet sound. He lowered her gently to the forest floor, where their discarded clothes and his cape made a makeshift bed.
They lay on the forest floor, catching their breath and processing the fact that they were truly alive and well.
“Poor tree,” Diana said with a mock sigh, and Clark looked over to see the tree he’d been fucking Diana against had splintered, its pieces looking like they’d been thrown recklessly around.
Diana stared for a moment before she started laughing, and Clark couldn’t help but join her. It was absurd. Everything about this situation was absurd. But they were alive, they were home, and that was worth celebrating.
“We need to find the others,” Diana said once they’d recovered. “Thor, Jane, Sif. They went through a different portal.”
“And Loki and Sylvie. They’re lost somewhere in dimensional space.”
“One problem at a time.” Diana stood, offering Clark her hand. “First, we figure out where we are. Then we find a way to contact our allies. Then we figure out how to stop Malekith.”
Clark stared at her naked, glistening body for a long moment, staring at the spot between her legs where he could still see their combined juices slowly trickling out. Diana noticed his stare and smirked.
“Eyes up here,” she teased.
Chuckling, Clark took her hand and let her pull him up.
“When you put it that way, it sounds almost simple,” he replied.
“It won’t be. But we’ve faced worse.”
“Have we?”
“Probably not. But optimism is important.”
They dressed once again and set off through the forest, heading toward what looked like a road in the distance. Somewhere out there, their friends were fighting their own battles. But they’d find them. They’d regroup. And then they’d stop Malekith from using the Aether to destroy reality.
They had to. Because the alternative was unthinkable.
To be continued…