The Calm Before the Storm (1/3)
Author: starhawk2005
Fandom: Marvel's Avengers
Date: September 2012
Pairing: Loki/ Jane
Rating: Adult (18+).
Summary: Sequel to Embracing the Dark (Loki/Jane, BDSM). Jane learns that there are some pitfalls to sleeping with the God of Mischief. And that's before the waste materials impact the proverbial bladed ventilation device.
Beta: Thanks and love to canyr12, for putting up with me! ;)
Disclaimer: Can I lease-to-own Loki? Pretty please? *begs* Especially if he comes with that leather get-up from Avengers….
Author's Note: As usual, I have not read any of the comics, so this is all based on movie canon.
Two days after their last encounter, Jane decides it's time to find a bigger place to live.
If she's honest with herself, as much as she's enjoying this 'arrangement' with Loki, it still feels wrong on so many levels, and every time Loki yanks her out of her familiar home base and to a new anonymous hotel room for playtime, it just seems to underline that fact.
If she's going to travel, she'd much rather it be while on vacation, and not a brief glimpse of an interesting skyline, or a romantic sunset on the beach, and then all she sees from that moment on is the inside of another hotel room. And Loki, though she's not complaining about that.
But Jane is starting to think that if she moves into somewhere bigger, with a bed big enough for two people - or at least, one small person and one much larger person, she thinks to herself with a smile – that this will be better. If she can act out her fantasies in the same environment all the time, in a place where she will feel comfortable, maybe it'll feel a little less like she's doing something very very wrong with Loki.
She's not a slut (or if she is, then so is he), so that's not what's bothering her. They're two consenting adults, and anyone who would look down their nose at her on that basis alone can go take a long walk off a short cliff, as far as Jane is concerned.
But given everything that Loki has done (both real and alleged)…unfortunately it's getting harder and harder for Jane to ignore that. She can't change the past, however, and she doesn't feel ready to confront him about those things. Indeed, she doesn't know if she ever will ask him to explain it all, because who knows what might set him off? But maybe if she takes this step, perhaps it will start to feel more like an actual relationship. It probably won't, if she's a realist, but it's worth a try. And she's getting tired of the cramped quarters, herself.
If their arrangement is going to go anywhere – and Jane doesn't know if it will, or how far she even wants it to – she doesn't think it can, so long as Loki just drops her into random rooms, screws her, and leaves. She wants a place with a decent-sized kitchen and a comfortable couch. A place where Loki can stretch out his long legs, and not look disgusted while doing so. A place where she can maybe coax him into staying with her longer than just during their bedroom antics, so she can feel less like this is just some bizarre friends-with-benefits situation.
If she can call it that. Are we even friends, really? she asks herself. But she doesn't like the answer that presents itself. No, they aren't, and they can't be, so long as Loki flits in and out of her life, and just for the sex. If she can get him to stick around for longer periods, maybe they can get to know each other better, perhaps even become friends. That's Jane's hope, anyway. She's not ready to give up what they currently have, but there's no denying that it doesn't sit comfortably with her, especially once she allows herself to also remember all the lying and sneaking around that she's doing.
Maybe with her own, bigger place, somewhere where they can meet consistently, at least it will feel a little less clandestine. Even if that's entirely an illusion.
So the next time she's in the lab running a simulation, she pulls out the local classifieds and starts looking for a new place. She doesn't need something huge, especially not after getting used to the trailer. A one-bedroom is fine, maybe a studio apartment?
All she really needs is good soundproofing, she thinks to herself with a grin, especially given Loki's apparent fetish for making her scream. She doesn't want the neighbours to be calling the cops every time Loki decides to visit! She circles a couple likely-sounding places. Selling the trailer is going to be another challenge, but she'll cross that bridge later.
Idly, she eyes the whiteboard across the way, lost in thought. She's still working on her own version of the Bifröst, just not as frantically as before. There's no longer a driving need to get to Asgard, now that she no longer considers herself to be in a relationship with Thor. Nor does she have the necessary power source to run such a device.
But it will still be an important scientific breakthrough, so Jane's going to keep at it, though it's a pleasant change; she knows that she's right, and there is no longer quite so much pressure to construct the thing and have it work now. She can actually kind of enjoy the process-
Her cell phone rings, and Jane scoops it up absently, without bothering to look at the display. "Hello?"
"Greetings, little one," comes the purring response, and Jane straightens up and glances around the lab. She's pretty sure Darcy and Erik are still up on the roof, finishing their first cups of coffee of the day, but she doesn't want to take any chances.
The coast is clear. "Loki, what the hell-?" she hisses into the phone. How does he even know how to use a phone?
"Are you alone?" he asks, his voice husky. It affects her in a way that makes Jane feel rather embarrassed. Or she would be, if there was anyone around to witness her blush.
"Yes, but-" She laughs nervously. What the hell is he doing?
"Good," he continues. "I have been thinking of you since dawn broke. Thinking about all I will do to you the next time we meet."
Jane's breath catches. He's not seriously going to-
"I think," he says, his voice getting lower and more gravelly, "that I will start by using your scarf to deprive you of your sight. So that you must rely on your other senses. Especially touch." He laughs softly, wickedly, and Jane realizes she's squeezing her thighs together.
"You cannot see me, but I am standing behind you," he continues, and Jane whirls around and checks, but there's no sign at all that he's in the room with her. Apparently he is content, for the moment, to tease her from a distance. "I reach around you and begin undoing the fastenings of your shirt, oh so slowly, one by one." He chuckles again.
Jane shakes herself like a wet dog, trying to break the spell his voice is weaving over her. She can't do this. Not here, not now. "Loki, stop. There's a time and place for everything, and this is not the time! I'm at work, for God's sake, and Erik and Darcy could come down from the roof at any moment! Why are you doing this now?"
"Because I want to," he says, and she can hear the leer in his voice. "How quickly you forget, my dear, I am the God of-"
"Mischief, I know," Jane interrupts sharply. "I don't care, Loki. There are some boundaries you just shouldn't cross-"
"And yet, you so enjoy when I push those boundaries of yours," he remarks, the caressing edge in his voice still affecting her in ways that should probably annoy her a lot more than they are. "My mischievous side pleases you. More than you are willing to admit. Tell me, what is the harm in indulging me, at this very moment?"
"Let's see, intense embarrassment when I get caught?" she retorts.
He laughs again. "I am sure you will make convincing excuses to whomever may interrupt us. You are clever, my Jane." His voice lowers again, the intimate tone returning. "Now, where was I? Oh yes- Close your eyes. I've taken your sight from you, remember?"
Jane's hand clenches hard around the phone, but she can't quite bring herself to hang up on him. Part of her does enjoy this, yes. She finds her eyes closing despite herself.
"I have you naked to the waist now," he growls. "You cannot see anything, but you can feel my warm fingers on you, caressing you. I touch your lovely nipples, stroke them, and they stiffen under my hands."
Jane groans before she can stop herself, and she has to fight to resist the urge to touch herself, to see if she is indeed responding the way she is in the pictures he's painting for her.
He laughs softly at her reaction. "Your obedience pleases me," he continues. "And I know just how to 'reward' you. You next feel me undoing your breeches."
Pants, Jane almost corrects him, but she doesn't feel like it. She doesn't need to look to know that her free hand is gripping the edge of the table hard enough that it's white-knuckled. Loki's voice is both soft and gravelly at the same time, and she wonders how the heck he does that.
"I have you stripped bare, now," he goes on, "and I pull you back hard against me. Can you feel my armour pressing against your soft skin? Can you feel how badly I want you?"
"Yes," Jane answers, barely restraining a whimper. Damn him, she can.
There's that husky laugh again, evil and seductive at the same time, and between her legs, Jane feels a sensation of warmth, of heaviness. Her breathing speeds up, and the phone feels like it's welded to her ear.
"I am certain you are already wet for me, my Jane, but I can assess that easily enough," he teases. "I hold you tight against me and pull your legs apart, slide my hand right between them, press my fingers against the seat of your pleasure-"
The computer beeps loudly as the simulation ends, and it startles Jane right back into reality. Her cheeks are bright pink, she can feel it, and if Darcy or Erik were to walk in right now, they'd take one look at her and know exactly what she's been up to. Hell, anyone with half a brain would know. Her anxiety goes back into high gear.
"Stop this," she hisses into the phone. "I can't- This isn't-"
"And now you are being disobedient again," he sighs loudly, but there's an amused edge there, too. "Will I have to take you over my knee?"
Jane bites her lip, trying not to entertain the mental image, but it presents itself to her anyway – herself, blindfolded still, lying naked and helpless over his lap, his strong hand holding her wrists pinned together behind her back. His other hand poised over her, ready to strike - Christ, Loki is just too good at pushing her buttons. She aches, in the best possible way, and no doubt that's exactly what he wants.
"Have you ever been spanked before, my Jane?" he asks. He doesn't wait for an answer. "I almost did so last time, when you so brazenly refused to kneel. You are overdue for a session of discipline, I think. I can't wait to feel you squirming in my lap, feel your skin heating under my palm as I give you your punishment."
If Jane wasn't wet before, she surely is now. She can feel it. She swallows another groan.
She's enjoying this, enjoying the crazy roller-coaster of it, enjoying the way her body is responding….But that doesn't make it right. Some things belong in private, and the lab is not private. If he wants to tease her, okay, but not here where someone can catch her in the act. Never mind what could happen if anyone found out who she's having phone-sex with.
"You want to 'punish' me? Fine," she replies, glad that her voice sounds just as strong and commanding as his. "But this, as I said, is not the place or time."
Just then, she hears Darcy and Erik coming back in. "And I'm not alone any more. So I'm hanging up now," she whispers into the phone. She doesn't wait for his reply, just hangs up and then turns her phone off for good measure, and then she makes a beeline right for the bathroom.
"Jane?" she hears Darcy call behind her.
"I'm OK, just need to visit the little girls' room," Jane calls back over her shoulder, walking even faster. She slips into the tiny bathroom and shuts and locks the door. She looks in the mirror, and she's flushed and obviously excited. Damn you, Loki. Jane closes her eyes again and tries to slow her breathing and heart rate, trying to relax. She pulls her scarf off and splashes water on her face, though the sight of the edge of the bite-mark in the mirror just reminds her again who had been at the other end of the line. And who she had a moment ago basically agreed to allow to 'discipline' her.
That had probably been his game all along, knowing him. To goad her into agreeing to submit to him for punishment.
Thinking about being 'disciplined' makes her both nervous and aroused, but with an effort, Jane sets both feelings aside. She's at work, and she has a job to do, and she's going to focus on that, God damn it.
And if he calls me again at work, I am so not picking up. Ever.
Thor allows his horse to canter along the Asbru bridge, wondering why Heimdall has summoned him, though he suspects it has something to do with Loki. He knows he will find the Gatekeeper at the edge of the bridge, staring out past the remains of the Bifröst.
Odin has ordered the Tesseract hidden in the weapons vault, saying that it is too dangerous to use, and they are long months away from rebuilding the bridge to the other Nine Realms. It aggravates him that he cannot get back to Earth and see Jane, but Odin had refused to use the Tesseract or to call upon the dark energies again merely to allow Thor to visit the object of his affections. Odin does not deem the need great enough, and although Thor can understand it, he does not have to like it.
It aggravates and eats away at him, day by day, but he plays the part of the dutiful son, partly to help ease Odin's and Frigga's grief over effectively losing Loki.
He dismounts a few yards away from Heimdall, misgivings making themselves known to him. Ever since Loki escaped Asgard, Thor has been waiting for this day to come, and yet, now that it may be here, he finds himself dreading it. What new troubles might his adopted brother be stirring up? And what might Thor have to do to stop him? He does not look forward to engaging Loki in battle again. Loki may think that they are no longer brothers, but such thinking is not proving as easy for Thor.
"Thor," Heimdall greets him.
"Heimdall. Why did you summon me?"
"I bear tidings of Loki," Heimdall answers. "Though I do not think you will like them."
Thor sighs heavily. "No, I expect not."
"He has learned well how to shroud himself from my gaze," Heimdall explains. "So at first, I was unable to find him. But then, twice I noticed something odd happening in one of the Realms. A brief disturbance, and then I could see…someone. Yet only a glimpse. The first time, I was not sure, hence I did not summon you. But the second time-"
"You were sure it was Loki," Thor finishes for him. Sometimes, Heimdall can be rather plodding in his reports. "Where is he?"
There's a long pause, and then Heimdall says, the hesitation clear in his voice: "In the one place you most wish him not to be."
"Midgard," Thor says, closing his eyes in despair. He should have expected as much. Fool, he should have convinced Odin to send him there immediately, the moment they first learned of Loki's escape. It is the most obvious place Loki would run to, given how little he thinks of mortals. "And what mischief is he up to now?"
"That, I cannot say. I was not able to see him well enough or long enough to determine what he is doing." There is another long, hesitant pause. "However, I can tell you where on Midgard he is. Who he is in proximity to."
Thor feels a sudden spiked coldness in his gut. He clenches his hand tightly around Mjölnir's handle. "Tell me and be done with it, Heimdall."
"Your mortal. Jane Foster." Heimdall says, and Thor thinks he sees compassion in the Gatekeeper's gaze. Not that this is of any help to him at all. "Her friends, too – Dr. Selvig, and the other mortal girl. Beyond that, all else is hidden from me."
Thor does not think Darcy is in any danger from Loki. She does not know enough, unlike Erik Selvig. Erik probably is in danger, and Thor will not overlook that possibility. But foremost in his mind: Jane-
Jane.
Loki's angry voice rings all too clearly in Thor's mind: "What happened to you on Earth that turned you so soft? Don't tell me it was that woman….Oh, it was. Well, maybe, when we're finished here, I'll pay her a visit myself!"
No. He cannot abandon the woman he loves, cannot leave her prey to whatever evil Loki has planned for her.
If indeed Loki hasn't already made good on his threat.
"Has Jane been harmed?" By Yggdrasil, Thor wishes Heimdall had some sense of priorities.
"As far as I can determine, not as yet." The Gatekeeper looks mildly chagrined, which is probably the greatest emotional reaction Thor has ever seen in him. It does not comfort.
Thor's hand clenches so tightly on Mjölnir, that he is sure the haft of a lesser weapon would have snapped in half. Distantly, thunder rumbles in the Asgardian sky. He must act fast, before Loki can.
"I would send you, if I could," Heimdall says, an apologetic note in his voice. He gestures at the ruin of the Bifröst. They have barely even begun to clear the wreckage away.
"I know, and I thank you," Thor says, already starting to turn away.
"I shall wish you luck convincing the All-Father. With a confirmed sighting of Loki, however, I would think the All-Father will judge the need to be great, indeed," Heimdall calls after him.
Thor, vaulting back onto his horse, does not answer, but he hopes the Gatekeeper is correct.
Thor had put all other considerations before Jane up until now, at his father's behest, and so long as he had known Jane was safe, he had played the role duty required of him. But now, if she will suffer (or worse) as a result of his absence, especially at the hands of his brother….no, Thor can delay no longer.
If Odin will not aid him, Thor thinks yet another Odinson may have to steal the Tesseract.
Jane wakes groggily up in a strange place once again, though things feel different this time. She can't quite put her finger on what's changed, not at first.
When she sits up and looks around, the room she's in is much fancier than any place Loki's ever teleported her to before. Ornate carvings on the bed glimmer in the light of several tall candles. Heavy drapes that look like real velvet hang around windows that have to be at least two stories tall. The sheets under her feel like pure silk, the floor tiled in smooth stone. All the furniture is wooden and decorated in gold and green, and she knows somehow, without knowing how she does, that all the gold is real.
But what's odd is the way things are blurred at the edges of her vision. Everything shifts into sharp focus when she turns to look right at it, but everything else then shifts into softly blurred shapes. It's bizarre. Trying to figure out where she is, Jane slips out of the bed and walks towards the nearest window.
She'd been understandably nervous after she left work earlier this evening, looking back frequently over her shoulder, even though she knew that to be a useless exercise – she would never be able to see him, not unless he allowed it.
By the time she'd gotten to her trailer, her hands had been shaking. She hadn't believed for a second that Loki would really harm her, but that hadn't really comforted her as much as she'd hoped.
There was no way of knowing how far he'd try to push things, as Loki was unpredictable at best.
Still, nothing had happened once she'd gotten home. She'd eaten dinner, she'd tried to read, she'd gone to bed, and all in a state of nervous arousal. But Loki hadn't shown up to….do whatever he'd planned to do to her.
Now she's here, in this strange place. But the obvious luxury seems at odds with being 'disciplined'. Or maybe that's his plan? Trick her into a false sense of security, and then spring her 'punishment' on her just when she starts to relax? She wouldn't put it past a trickster like him.
When she gets to the window and looks out, things become even more confusing. The sky is full of constellations she doesn't recognize, even nebulas and pulsars. Where the heck am I?
Jane, Loki's voice whispers in her mind. She whirls around, but she's still alone in the room. As far as she can tell. In fact, Loki's voice, if she can call it that, seems to beckon her to leave the room, as if he called to her from outside.
For a moment she balks, not sure she's ready for this. Still, Loki is the only potentially familiar thing here, so Jane leaves the window and moves towards the door of the room. If he wants to punish her, let him get on with it, then.
On the way out, she catches sight of herself in a tall mirror in the corner of the room, and she pauses, staring at herself. She walks over to stand in front of the mirror, examining her reflection. She hadn't noticed up until now what she is wearing, but it's like a nightgown, though not like anything she would ever pick out for herself. Two thin straps of gold lie over her shoulders, going down to a neckline that's a little more risqué than what she would've chosen. The rest of the dress is a long length of golden lace, almost long enough to brush the floor, over an equally long layer of green satin. Underneath that, she's wearing nothing at all, which becomes even more evident when she turns sideways, looking at herself from all angles. The dress has been completely slit up both sides, the bare flesh cross-tied with thin golden ribbons, from under her arms to halfway down her shins. She's barefoot, too, but the stone floor feels only barely cool.
Apparently, Loki does have a taste for lingerie.
Jane, come to me, whispers the voice softly and insistently in her head.
Well, she can ask him herself what his game is. She goes over to the door of the room and pushes it open. A long, torch-lit corridor stretches out in front of her, stairs leading up in the distance into what seems to be a huge vaulted room.
She starts down the hall, noticing that there doesn't seem to be anyone else around. She seems to get to the end of the hallway much faster than she would have expected, and she starts to climb the stairs. This has to be a dream. It's the only thing that makes sense. A dream that Loki is once again controlling, twisting to his purposes, whatever those are.
What greets her at the top is even more stunning than the room she 'woke' in, a dim, torch-lit room large enough to contain probably ten football fields. The floor is tiled in dark grey, etched in places with intricate gold symbols, and the room is ringed with massive windows, except for the back wall, which is made up entirely of golden tiles. In the middle of that wall are another two flights of stairs topped by a massive throne of gold, also filigreed with symbols.
There's someone slouching on the throne, though Jane doesn't recognize him at first, thanks to the horned helmet. She's seen a similar one before, in those pictures of Loki she'd looked at back during the time he was stalking her, but it still takes a moment to register.
"Jane Foster of Midgard," he says formally, his voice echoing in the huge room, and then she's sure it's Loki. "Welcome to my home."
Asgard, she thinks. Yes, she should've realized as much. "Is this…real?" she asks him, walking hesitantly forward, her feet whispering over the tiles.
"Though I wish it were so, no. Merely a dream." He stands, and Jane realizes it isn't just the golden helmet that's new to her. His armour is different as well, all gold and green, and very little black. His shoulders are less enhanced than in his usual get-up, and he's got a green cape on as well. It takes her another moment to realize the green and gold hues of his armour match the dress she's wearing.
"Come," he beckons her forward, coming down a step or two towards her. He still cuts a very imposing figure, Jane decides, even though that helmet kind of makes her want to giggle.
Again, it doesn't take as long as it should for her to cross the room. It doesn't bother her much, though. Dream physics, right?
He motions her to a stop at the foot of the bottom flight of stairs. He's still at the top, looming above her, and she remembers again what he'd said earlier that day.
You are overdue for a session of discipline. Nervously, she drops her eyes. It's a dream, but still. Everything feels real enough, and she imagines a spanking here will feel plenty real.
"I see you remember your place," he says imperiously, coming down another two slow steps. "I am your king, and you would do well to remember it. I can be merciful," he pauses, "if I am first appeased."
If he thinks he's king- Jane wonders how to respond to that. Then it hits her, and she curtseys, as best she can in the form-fitting dress.
When she straightens up, he looks a little baffled. Maybe the ladies don't curtsey in Asgard? She drops her eyes again. "My king," she says. It feels strange in her mouth, but it doesn't sound all that ridiculous, given the grandness of their surroundings, and besides, it's still a dream. Her inner militant feminist can take a brief vacation.
He descends the stairs the rest of the way. His hand is warm and feels real enough when he raises her chin. He chuckles, meeting her gaze, and gives her a gentle, charming smile. "As I have said before, you are clever. Come." His hand wraps around hers, tugging her lightly to follow him up the stairs. Towards the throne.
Halfway up, she stumbles a bit on the hem of the dress, almost pitching onto her knees, but Loki steadies her. She's awkward even in dreams, apparently.
She shakes her head and hikes up the hem of the dress a bit, looking up at the impressive throne again.
"Is that what it looks like in Asgard?" she asks him, gesturing towards it.
"Near enough. This is based on my memories, after all, and I daresay there may be some inaccuracies." He shrugs. "Does it matter?"
"No, just curious," she says. When they get to the top of the dais, Loki releases her hand, settling back down into the throne. He looks up at her expectantly, but Jane stays in place, not sure what he wants from her. She looks back over her shoulder, but the vast room is empty of anyone else, the edges blurred away, as they were in the small bedroom she first 'woke' in.
"Come, come," he urges her, pulling her to stand in front of him. Between his spread legs.
His hands touch her sides, tracing along the edges of the ribbons, stroking her bare flesh. It's half tickle and half caress, and Jane giggles, trying not to jerk away.
"Do you like your dress?" he asks. "Because I must admit to being rather fond of the design." His fingers slide under the ribbons, continuing to stroke softly along her skin. Her nerves tingle, responding to his touch.
"Yes," she says, struggling to keep her voice steady.
"Perhaps you should then thank me," he suggests, smirking.
Her militant feminist side hasn't gone on vacation at all, apparently, because she has to resist the urge to roll her eyes at him. If he wants a blow-job, let him ask for it. Especially after that stunt he pulled over the phone.
So she decides to tease right back. "How do you suggest I do so, my king?" she asks, pretending innocence.
"Oh, still irritated with me for today's earlier play?" he mocks, but gently. "I shall have to fix that." He touches her cheek, then threads his fingers into her hair, drawing her face down and forward for a deep, heated kiss. It's a bit of a delicate operation at first, as his face is partially covered by the helmet, but they manage to make it work. Jane can feel one edge of the helmet pressing coldly against her cheek as they slowly devour each other, and thinks: Well, this one's a first for me.
Jane presses her hands to his armoured chest for balance, as he continues to kiss her, his fingertips brushing lightly along her sides. When one of his hands eases forward, his thumbnail circling the outermost edge of her nipple through the dress, slow and teasing, she groans into his mouth and squeezes her thighs together.
It almost takes her by surprise, how quickly she is responding to him. Then again, she's been aroused all day, ever since his evil little phone call.
He breaks the kiss and grabs her hips, pulling her into his lap without warning, and Jane gasps. He smiles up at her, and Jane can't help smiling back. Sometimes she finds it hard to remember all the bad things he's supposedly done, when he smiles so charmingly like that.
But there's also a lascivious glint in his eyes. When he places a warm hand on her thigh and slips it up right under the hem of her dress, cradling her wetness in his palm, Jane takes a sharply indrawn breath at the abruptness of it. OK, maybe not so easy to forget how evil he can be.
He laughs low, smirking. "So slick already for me? Wanton girl." He slides two fingers right into her, easily, his thumb brushing lightly across her swollen clit, and Jane digs her nails into his caped shoulders.
"What, no foreplay?" Jane chides him, biting back a moan.
He chuckles again, his eyes bright with mischief. "I thought our earlier conversation over the telephone was foreplay." He looks very pleased with himself, and Jane almost rolls her eyes again.
"Oh, is that what that was? I was wondering," Jane teases, though she's not sure why she's pushing him. Especially given the content of the end of that conversation.
Maybe it's true, maybe she does want to be spanked by him.
The corner of his mouth quirks. "Silence, impudent wench," he says, but the silent laughter in his eyes takes any sting out of his words. The hand deep inside her begins to move, small back-and-forth motions, his thumb making tiny firm circles on her clit, and Jane's logical abilities vanish out the huge windows.
She'd rather focus on what he's doing to her, anyway. He tugs gently at the top of her dress with his free hand, pulling it down until her breasts are bare, then toys with her nipples, the hand between her legs beginning to push harder inside her. Jane lets her head roll back on her neck, digging her fingers into him, holding on for dear life, but she can still feel his eyes on her, watching her, calculating his next move.
He pulls her a little forward and she feels teeth graze the side of her neck, scraping over the healing bite-mark, and then he pulls her face back to his and kisses her. She groans into his mouth again, and feels his answering chuckle against her lips.
Just as suddenly as he began, he pulls both hands away from her, and Jane fights back a whimper of frustration, but he's not done with her yet. "Turn around," he orders, eyes gleaming and the gravelly tone back in his voice. Jane obeys almost automatically, fully aware that his hand is busy at the fastenings of his pants, getting ready for whatever the next step in his scheme is.
Loki pulls her back over his lap, gathers her dress up out of the way, and then enters her in one swift merciless thrust that seems to drive all the breath out of her lungs. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he leans forward, pressing his chest against her back, the metal of his armour cold against her skin.
The vast room in front of her suddenly ripples and twists. Maybe he's losing a little of his control over the dream? She doesn't know much about magic, but she wouldn't be at all surprised if being in the throes of passion screwed up his illusions, at least a little.
Or maybe it's just her own neural overload.
She braces her hands on the arms of the throne and closes her eyes, forgetting everything else but sensation, enjoying the feeling of him inside her. He's squeezing her nipples and thrusting slowly now within her, kissing the side of her neck. She can feel the cheek-piece of his helmet pressing coldly against her as he does this, and she breathes in the scents of leather and musk. If she cracks her eyes open just a bit she can see those crazy horns jutting out past her face from the corner of her eye, bobbing with his movements, and she has to smile a bit at the ridiculousness of that.
His teeth tease at the edge of her ear, and a hand drops to her clit, working it with rough motions that are just a little too rough, and Jane jerks away from him just a bit, trying to slow things down to a more comfortable pace.
She glances out into the room again…and suddenly all her excitement turns to cold ashes.
They're not alone any more. A single figure stands in the middle of the room, silent, watching her and Loki going at it. The figure is blurry at first and indistinct, and she knows it's not real, but it still creeps her out. Loki may be an exhibitionist (apparently), but not her!
Against her will, the image sharpens, and then she can see all too clearly who is looking up at them. He's been shackled to the floor somehow, and he's staring right up at them with an expression of jealous rage on his face. It's the one person she doesn't want to see right now, real or otherwise.
Thor.
"No!" Jane gasps, pulling up and off of Loki, wrenching her arm away when he tries to stop her. The skirt of her dress falls back into place, hiding the lower half of her body, and she crosses her arms across her chest, covering herself up as best she can and turning her back on their audience of one.
Loki raises his eyebrow questioningly at her, somehow still managing to look regal, despite having a raging, glistening hard-on. "He is not real," he remarks mildly.
"I don't care," Jane grits out, squeezing her arms tighter around herself, defensively.
"It's only another harmless game," Loki chides her.
"I can't do this, not with Thor fucking watching us." What is it with him and pushing at her boundaries, today?
Loki is starting to look slightly annoyed now, but he continues speaking in the same mild tones. "I thought you were angry with him."
Jane stares at him as if he's lost it. "I am."
"Forgive me," he says, and now there is a slight note of sarcasm in his voice. "I thought you wanted him to suffer for abandoning you."
The pieces of the puzzle suddenly click into place for Jane. "You want Thor to know about us, to be jealous of us. Except that if he finds out for real-"
"He is not going to find out. I have been taking careful steps to ensure that fact," he shrugs, then looks at her speculatively. "You did not answer my question, Jane."
She doesn't really want to answer it, but after trying out a few versions in her head, she decides on: "I'm angry, yes, but I'm not vindictive, OK?"
He puts a finger to his lips, looking unconvinced, as if he thinks she is lying. Right, like anyone could ever lie convincingly to him, she feels like pointing out. Especially her, Miss White Belt in Lying.
"Is there something else?" he continues, slowly. "Perhaps you still have feelings for my brother? I thought that you wanted to be with only me, but perhaps I was wrong."
Christ, he can be such an idiot. Jane makes an angry gesture with one hand. "You see me with anyone else, Loki?"
He cocks his head at her, brow furrowing, obviously still trying to solve whatever mystery he thinks her reaction represents. "Are you ashamed of us, Jane? Of our arrangement?"
"What? No!" What the hell does that have to do with anything?
He starts to say something else, but she cuts him off, anger making her enunciate every word. "The fact that I do not want to watch Thor watch me getting off with his brother has nothing at all to do with who I want to be with, or who I am angry with, or anything else. It's just fucking creepy, OK? Real or not real, it is not a turn-on."
"How disappointing," he remarks calmly, a bored expression on his face as he tucks himself quickly back into his pants.
He's acting like she's being the unreasonable one. "You're not being fair!" Jane protests, but it's already too late. A curt sweep of his hand, and the dream fragments around her, breaking into shards. She tries to hold onto it, but the pieces dissolve in front of her eyes and run away like water, leaving her in inky blackness.
She snaps awake in her own bed. All alone, no big surprise. No fucking way, she seethes. Not this time. "Loki!" she calls.
She waits a beat or two, but if he's here, if he's listening, he gives no sign. She gets up out of bed and stands in the middle of her kitchen, her arms still crossed defensively over her chest. This could be like showing red to a bull, but she can't stop herself.
"Loki! We have to talk, damn it!" They really really need to set some ground rules, especially if he's always going to react this way when she resists.
Nothing.
"I know you're the God of Mischief and all, but there have to be limits!" Jane yells, not caring who might hear her.
Still nothing.
"Fuck!" Jane curses angrily, going back to her bed and flouncing down on it.
And the worst thing is? She's still horny. Bloody hell.
She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths, trying to slow the racing of her heart. She wipes the back of her hand across her forehead, and it comes away sweaty.
Unwelcome thoughts crowd into her brain. Are you ashamed of us, Jane? Of our arrangement? She can just hear his voice in her mind, the echo of the dream.
She shakes her head. She doesn't want to think about that.
But you are, aren't you? her traitorous mind whispers anyway.
She is ashamed, yes, but not of him, nor of their arrangement. No, she's only ashamed of herself, when she stops and really considers everything. Seeing Thor just now, even if he wasn't real, had reminded her that he has no idea that she's moved on. And she's also ashamed because she's still concealing the identity of her lover from everyone she cares about.
Lying and sneaking around might be Loki's bread and butter, but her? Never.
But there's nothing I can do about it. She has no way to tell Thor it's over, and she can't let anyone here know what's going on. She can't risk losing her life's work, and maybe even her freedom, especially when she has no idea if Loki is even up to anything. Well, anything beyond making her life a complicated mess.
You're assuming that you didn't piss Loki off so much, that he won't come back this time, a negative little voice nags at her in her head.
He asked for it, she snarks back. But that doesn't make her feel better.
She finally gets under the covers and rolls over, too dispirited to even think about taking care of the ache between her legs.
What if he doesn't come back?
Maybe that would be for the best, the other side of her brain answers.
This isn't helping anything, so Jane does her best to think of other things. Constellations, star-charts, calculations for Einstein-Rosen bridges. It's a struggle at first.
She's finally relaxed and right on the edge of sleep when a new thought occurs out of nowhere: He'll be back. He has nobody else. Here, or in Asgard. Or anywhere.
It's enough to snap her back to full wakefulness. She stares into the dark confines of her trailer. Oh Christ, it's so true.
And so sad.
The next day Jane is back at the lab, tired and grumpy and unable to focus, wondering if Loki is going to try to pull some new stunt today, or if she's even going to hear from him. He hadn't seemed angry last night, exactly, but he's just so unpredictable that Jane really has no clue what he'll do next. If anything.
She tells Darcy and Erik that she had a bad night when they give her concerned looks, and she spends most of the morning hunched over her notes and trying not to think about Loki, and everything that happened yesterday.
About mid-morning there's the sound of Erik opening the fridge door in the kitchen area behind Jane, and then a loud, annoyed sigh. "We're all out of food," he says.
"Time to stock up again?" Jane asks absently.
"Yes. You two want to come along? It'll go faster with three of us."
Normally Jane would go along, but there's just too much crap in her head right now. Maybe some alone time here will help her to sort through it all. "I'll pass this time."
"I won't," says Darcy. "I think my eyes will fall out of my head if I don't take a break from coding Jane's data."
Jane nods. "Go ahead, you two. And bring me back some Doritos, OK?"
"Sure," says Darcy.
Silence settles over the lab after they've left, and Jane sighs and presses the palms of her hands over her eyes. What exactly were you expecting? she scolds herself. You're sleeping with the damned Norse god of mischief. You really didn't think that he wouldn't try to pull some crazy things?
Which leads to another unwelcome thought: What exactly is Loki doing when he isn't with her? She could ask, of course, when (if!) she sees him again….but what if she doesn't like the answer? If it has anything to do with alien invasions or world domination, she's back between a rock and a hard place all over again. She shakes her head and drops her hands back onto the table.
Unexpectedly, something green and gold shimmers at the edge of her vision, outside the lab windows. Jane turns to look, nearly knocking her half-full mug of cold coffee right off the desk with her elbow.
Loki is standing outside the window smirking in at her. He's wearing yet another variation of his Asgardian armour, one with more gold metal plating, the green cape, and a slightly different version of the golden helmet. It still features those insane horns, though.
"Oh. My. God." Jane mutters. Then the panic hits – what if someone sees him?
Jane scrambles ungracefully out of her desk chair, meeting up with Loki at the door to the lab.
She can't help looking him up and down, trying to ignore how his grin widens at her reaction. "Wow, ostentatious, much?" she can't help pointing out. "And what the hell are those supposed to be, anyway?" she continues, pointing at the golden horns. "Antlers of doom?"
He chuckles indulgently. "Some might call them that."
Jane almost asks him jokingly if he's compensating for something, but then she remembers that she's supposed to be annoyed with him.
Also, he's once again somewhere she doesn't want him to be – here! "Are you insane?" she snaps. "I told you yesterday over the phone that I didn't even want you calling me at work, and now you show up here in person, especially dressed like that?"
He smiles and leans extravagantly against the doorframe. "No one but you can see me."
Jane ponders that a moment, then realizes the implications. "Oh great, so anybody walking by right now will look over, see me talking to myself, and call the men in white coats on me."
At his raised eyebrow, Jane quickly amends: "They'll think I'm crazy!"
"I can easily conceal you, as well," Loki remarks, with a mild tone similar to the one from her dream. "Though at the moment, such is not required. There is no one around to see us."
"How can you be so sure?" Jane asks, her hands twisting nervously together.
He shrugs. "I have many powers of which you are not aware, my Jane."
She's not sure what to say to that, but he doesn't give her much of a chance to answer, pushing himself away from the doorframe (he has to duck a little, so his horns don't catch on the top of the door) and grasping her upper arms, pulling her to him for a kiss.
His fingers tangle in her hair, and it takes a second for him to line her up just right, as once again the cheek-pieces of the helmet want to get in the way, but he does it so skilfully that Jane has to wonder for a second if he's kissed a lot of girls while wearing the 'antlers of doom'.
She tries not to relax against him – he still has lots of bullshit to answer for – but it's difficult. He's really too good at this, his tongue gently exploring her mouth, and it doesn't take much to get her aroused all over again, especially after yesterday. Who says only men can have 'blue balls'?
He pulls away at last. "I am sorry," he says, his eyes meeting hers directly.
Jane's not sure she heard him right. "Excuse me?"
"I am sorry," he repeats. "For last night. I should not have allowed my anger at Thor to intrude upon us. Nor should I have reacted so unkindly." A slow smile spreads across his face then, puzzling Jane. "Though," he adds, "I shall not apologize for my phone call last morn."
Jane rolls her eyes and gives him a little shove in the chest, though it barely moves him. "You're incorrigible," she mutters.
"A necessary requirement of being the God of Mischief," he replies loftily, eyes glittering gleefully at her.
Jane slaps at his shoulder playfully, but this time her hand passes right through him, and suddenly Loki shimmers and disappears from in front of her. What the-
Out of the blue she's grabbed from behind, and Jane yelps in surprise as Loki's strong hands pull her back hard against him. Warm breath swirls against her ear. "Also, I must admit, my lust for you does tend to inspire misbehaviour in me. Perhaps if you were to aid me with that?" he suggests playfully. He pushes his hips into her, and there's no mistaking his arousal.
"Down, big boy," Jane growls, but it's half-hearted at best. If she's honest with herself, she wants him too. Especially after yesterday's endless teasing.
And he did apologize, sort of.
But the lab has way too many windows, and despite Loki's assurances that he can hide them both, even in plain sight, she feels way too exposed here. Not to mention, what if Darcy and Erik come back?
Well, there's still one relatively private place in here. "Come with me," she says, taking Loki's hand and leading him towards the bathroom. Luxurious, it isn't, but it will have to do.
She pulls him in after her (again, he has to duck his horned head) and shuts and locks the door behind them both. Critically, she looks around, ignoring Loki's expectant smirk. There really isn't much to work with. A toilet, a pedestal sink, and a mirror above. That's it.
Loki is still waiting, so Jane makes a decision and grabs his arm, lowering the toilet seat's cover and guiding him to sit down on it. It creaks alarmingly, and Jane wonders again how heavy all that armour must be. Well, this isn't the time or place to get it all off of him, she supposes.
She kneels down between his legs, and starts to fumble with the complicated fastenings at his…fly? Well, whatever Asgardians call it.
Loki clears his throat, and Jane looks up to see him raising his eyebrows at her. "If this is the way you intend to 'punish' me for appearing to you at your place of work, be assured that this is likely to lead to exactly the opposite effect," he informs her wryly.
Jane shakes her head, finally working free the last lacing. "That's not why I'm doing this. You asked me for 'help' and I'm giving it to you. Besides, last I checked, I owe you a couple orgasms."
His eyebrows lift even higher at that. "Keeping score, my dear? No need. It is not a competition. In fact, if you are 'ahead' of me in that fashion, I take that as a sign of my skills as a lover." He sounds so smug, so pleased with himself, that Jane has to laugh. Of course he would.
Jane wraps her hand around his length, stroking him gently, teasingly. "But," she insists, "I want you to promise me that these…incidents at the lab will stop. After this, anyway."
Loki pouts down at her, or tries to. He's having obvious difficulty, especially when Jane lets her hand speed up ever so slightly. "Perhaps I don't want to promise that. Perhaps I enjoy stoking the fires of your passion, whenever, wherever, and however I choose." He sounds almost petulant, but then the commanding edge worms its way back into his voice. "Perhaps that is my right, within the bounds of our arrangement."
Jane lets her strokes slow to a crawl, ignoring his look. "There have to be limits, Loki. The lab is a place where we can't play, not in the future. That's just the way it has to be."
Loki rolls his head back in exasperation, the tips of his horns barely missing goring the plaster. "And take that damned thing off, before you wreck the walls," Jane adds sharply.
He gives her another look. "You are forgetting your place again, wench." He flexes his right hand, in a way that Jane is probably supposed to take as a warning. A reminder that her 'discipline' may be dealt out at any time.
But she isn't going to cave, not on this issue, so she stops touching him entirely and stands up, puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. "Stop. I'm serious."
He throws up his hands dramatically. "Very well, Jane Foster," he concedes, rolling his eyes as if she is the most annoying person he's ever encountered. "No more 'games' at your place of work. I swear it by Yggdrasil."
He remembers to remove the helmet, and Jane's eyes widen in surprise as he makes a swirling movement with his hands, the helmet winking out of existence.
"That's a neat trick," she remarks.
"It can indeed be most useful at times," Loki agrees. "And now, as I have acquiesced to your demands…" He pauses significantly.
Jane goes to her knees again, and takes him deep into her mouth in one movement.
Loki hisses and cups her head in his hands, pushing her hair out of her face, watching her move her lips slowly along his shaft. The intensity of his gaze makes her feel somehow both shy and aroused.
She traces the tip of her tongue along the underside of his shaft, following the pulsing veins. She breathes in his scent, makes herself look up to watch him as he watches her. When she reaches into his pants again to gently ease his balls free, and to stroke them lightly, he growls something in a language she doesn't know. He slides a hand behind her neck, though his fingertips first trace along the circle of the bite-mark, and an expression crosses his face too quickly for Jane to identify.
It doesn't matter. Her knees are starting to protest being on the hard floor, so Jane closes her eyes and takes him deep into her mouth again, moving up and down, slow at first and then faster and faster, one of her hands moving along the rest of his shaft in tandem with her mouth.
Loki's hand tightens on her shoulder almost hard enough to hurt, then loosens. Both his hands then fall away from her, and when she opens her eyes again, they are clenched into fists on his knees, his pale face flushed and his eyes dark as he looks down at her. He feels hard as steel against her tongue and lips, and he starts to gasp in a way she recognizes.
"Jane," he says warningly, "I am going to-"
But she wants to taste him, so she doesn't stop. He growls words in the unknown language again, the sounds rumbling in his chest, and spills himself across her tongue; he tastes bitter (which is rather appropriate), but Jane swallows anyway, takes all of him in.
Loki gasps harshly and closes his eyes, and Jane can see the shorter strands of hair around his face pasted to his skin with sweat. She lets him go and wipes her hand across her mouth, pleased that she was able to please him, but her knees can't take much more, so she gets shakily to her feet.
He runs his fingers through his hair, slicking the loose strands back and out of his face, and smiles warmly up at her. Actually, on second thought, he looks very pleased with himself, above and beyond what Jane would expect from someone finally getting his sexual release. It suddenly occurs to Jane that goading her into taking control might have been his plan all along? She wonders, but not for long.
His smile turns suddenly wicked. "My turn to have my evil way with you, little one," he purrs. He doesn't even bother to lace himself back up, but stands, crowding her back into the wall, and then wraps long fingers around her upper arms.
He kisses her, slow, hot and deep, then spins her around, turning her to face away from him, and pushes her forward until she's leaning over the cold edge of the sink. She watches in the mirror as he flashes her his patented evil smirk, then he sinks gracefully to the floor. Deft fingers shift her hips back a bit, giving him more room to work, and then pop open the buttons on her jeans, and Jane already has to resist squirming.
He yanks her jeans roughly down off her hips, and her underwear follows suit right after, Jane gripping the sink's edge tightly to keep from being pulled off her feet. Impatiently, he jerks the clothing down and off one foot, almost ripping her shoe off in the process, and then he shoves her legs wide apart. He pauses for a long moment, and Jane feels herself blush bright red, knowing he's getting an up-close eyeful.
He separates her folds and she tries not to writhe, all too aware how wet she already is. When he smoothes his tongue along her centre, she has to bite off a moan. He chuckles low against her skin, then flicks his tongue against her clit, laughing again when she jumps slightly. "So sensitive," he remarks, a caressing edge in his voice. "So many possible ways I can use that to my advantage, to make you squirm and beg me for release," he purrs, and Jane clenches her hands harder on the sink edges, trying not to think about what he could possibly mean. Does he mean here and now, or is that a future threat (promise)?
She has to bite her lip, hard, to silence her gasp when he changes tactics, his tongue now softly teasing at her entrance, while his fingertips paint slow, easy circles on her aching clit.
He pauses all too soon, and she almost screams at him not to stop. "Beg me," he urges her, and she wonders if mind-reading is one of those powers that he hinted at earlier.
"Please, Loki," she moans. She doesn't have the will to resist him, she just wants to finally, finally, please God (of Mischief), be allowed to come.
He presses on her just a bit harder, just a bit faster, and slides his tongue into her, and her legs are shaking so hard she feels like she can barely stand. She has to fight to lock her knees, and Loki's arm wraps around her hip, part holding her up and part keeping her from escaping.
Jane burrows her head into the crook of her arm, trying to muffle her noises just in case Darcy and Erik have already come back – she can't hear anything over the roar of blood in her ears.
He takes it up one more level, and it doesn't take her too much longer to climax. Hell, she doesn't even know how she lasted this long, considering she's been aroused on and off (and then on again) so many times over the course of the last twenty-four hours or so.
When she can move and think again, she pushes slowly up onto her elbows, looking in the mirror. He's already standing behind her, meeting her eyes with a lewd expression as he licks clean the pads of his fingers with slow relish.
His eyes shift, and Jane realizes he's focusing instead on the bite-mark on her neck, now visible since her scarf was displaced sometime during all the festivities. Jane shrugs inwardly and starts to pull her clothes back on, the rustle behind her indicating that Loki is doing the same.
When they are both dressed, he steps forward until he's pressed up against her back again, and his fingertips pull her scarf aside, stroking gently across the mark. Half a second later, it's gone. Jane's eyes widen in surprise, and her fingers go reflexively to touch the spot, her fingertips brushing against his where they still rest on her neck.
Then she frowns. She can't see it, but it's still there; she can feel the small scabs even now. She looks back into the mirror to meet Loki's gaze again. "Unfortunately, I do not possess the ability to heal another," he says, "but I can hide the evidence, at least, so that you do not have to. Perhaps there may come a time when you can wear my marks openly, but I can appreciate that such a time is not yet come."
Possessed by a sudden impulse, Jane turns and hugs him, pressing her face into his chest. For a moment he stands as still as a marble statue, and Jane feels something inside her freeze, as well, wondering if she's crossed some line, shown more emotion than he will tolerate within the bounds of their arrangement. Too late to undo it, however.
"Thank you," she says. Though again, there's that other side of her, whispering nervously: 'Wear my marks'?
He giveth, and he taketh away, she says to herself. It figures.
She feels his hand touch her hair, stroking softly, and he seems to relax a little against her. She can't help feeling that this is something of a victory.
Outside, though the sky is clear and cloudless, low thunder mutters ominously.