Piece Of Mind
Loki's frame stiffened against her, his entire body tensing in her arms. He pulled back to look at her, his intense eyes fixing unwaveringly on her face, faint lines gathering on his forehead as he gave a small, disconcerted frown. And Darcy's heart pounded anxiously in her chest.
To say he had been taken aback, was putting it mildly.
"You can't." He said, leadenly.
"What?" Eyes wide, Darcy stared at him in disbelief. "What do you mean I can't? I do!"
He shook his head, unconvinced. "You're confused. You can't possibly know what you're saying."
He was still holding her against the wall in his secure grip, but now this was hideously awkward, so she instinctively wriggled in a feeble attempt to spur him into letting her go.
"Stay." He commanded, his hold on her tightening. "I'm enjoying this feeling of closeness."
"Not enough to listen to me though, huh?" She snapped unpleasantly.
But she couldn't help it. Now suddenly she couldn't help feeling a teensy bit panick-stricken. Like reality was starting to kick in, and it was humiliating and harshly unforgiving.
Sucking in a deep breath, she stilled and tried to calm herself, slowly counting to ten in her head. His admittance to enjoying the closeness was surprisingly sweet, and she didn't want to deny him the pleasure of a feeling that he clearly wasn't accustomed to. But at the same time, she was growing increasingly uncomfortable. On all levels.
"I'm cold." She said in a small voice, closing her eyes to avoid the embarrassment of having to meet his gaze.
Slowly, he grudgingly withdrew his waning length from her body and carefully set her down on her own two feet. Her legs had turned to jello, and were shaking perceptibly, so he held onto her for a moment.
"Are you.....alright?" He asked gently, face filled with concern.
She nodded, placing a hand against the wall to keep herself steady. The lukewarm water didn't help matters, and Loki must've felt her shivering, because he stepped out of the bathtub and pulled a big, white towel from the rail on the wall. Instead of using it for himself, he handed it to her, and she was thankful for being able to cover her modesty at least.
Modesty, didn't appear to be an issue for the God of Mischief however, as he was still standing brazenly naked in all his glory, without a hint of shame.
And what a sight to behold he was. Even his tight little butt, and manly bits and pieces were perfectly formed. And the beautiful vision of him all nude and wet, didn't exactly help her trembling legs.
She had just been very intimately involved with that man, she thought to herself, smugly, and a sudden sex-flashback made her feel faintly dizzy.
But now what? Where did they go from here on in? Especially given that she'd just foolishly disclosed her love for him and he hadn't even had the good grace to accept her declaration?
His negative response had undeniably hurt her, and now she was battling the urge to give him a piece of her mind. The only other option was to try and get away. To go to bed, sleep on it, and see if her anger had subsided in the morning.
Fight or flight?
Hastily, she hopped out of the tub, and made a beeline for the bathroom door. Though ideally she would've liked to run away. Like, far away. To Jupiter or something.
"Darcy?" His voice followed her into the room, but she ignored it. Choosing instead to busy herself with turning down the glow-white covers on the plush bed.
A minute or two later Loki emerged, clad in a white hotel robe, his wet hair tied-up in a loose bun at the nape of his neck. He was carrying another robe, which he held for her to slip into. Begrudgingly she complied, and for a moment his lovely strong arms briefly encircled her. The robe was blissfully soft and felt snuggly against her damp skin, but the feeling was nothing compared to being held by him.
But then she remembered she was supposed to be pissed at him, which prompted her into moving away, which she did with a lot less subtlety than she'd hoped to.
"What is the matter?" He demanded, irritably. "Why are you trying to distance yourself from me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." She lied, giving a dismissive shrug of the shoulders. "I'm not distancing myself from you--"
"Yes you are, and you keep avoiding my eye. What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Stop lying to me." He said calmly, but his voice was now tinged with steel. "I can see you're angry."
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Darcy began drying her hair with the towel she had been wearing. "It's nothing. Really. Don't worry your logical little head over it."
"Don't insult my intelligence. Tell me."
Ignoring him, she leaned forwards and tipped her head upside down as she rubbed at her hair with unnecessary vigour . The large towel covered her head and her face, until it was roughly snatched away.
"Hey!" She protested. "I need that!"
"And I need you to start talking!" He riposted, bristling with irritation. "You regret it already, don't you?"
"Regret what?"
"The intercourse. You regret having given yourself to me." He impaled her with a hard, accusing glare, the look in his eyes all wounded and frantic. "Do you think less of yourself now?"
"No, not at all. Don't be a dumb-ass. What I regret is opening my big mouth and saying that I love you."
Miraculously, his expression immediately softened, his temper and aura visibly wavering. A long drawn-out silence followed, as he stood unmoving, his eyes never leaving her flushed face.
"As I told you once before..." He said eventually. "....I'm a difficult man to love."
Unable to help herself, Darcy let out a loud, rude snort. She would've been embarrassed by how unattractive it sounded, but her dignity was already in tatters, and she was all out of patience. It had been a long, emotionally draining day, and she was exhausted.
"Yeah, don't I know it!" She scoffed.
His jaw tightened as he stared at her, his eyes now stony. "You speak so knowingly, yet you cannot have the vaguest conception of what it is you are saying."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? I know how I feel, Loki. You can't tell me I'm wrong."
"Your emotions are deceiving you." He stated, flatly. "We've just shared a deeply intimate experience, that connection can cause confusion."
She scowled at him deeply, feeling all at once very defensive and offended. "The only thing I'm confused about is how I could fall ass-over-head for such a condescending snob in such a short space of time! But hey, I have. So you're just gonna have to accept it, buster. Like I've had to."
Turning away, he began his usual pacing about the room. His restless agitation a clear indication that her proclamation had thrown him off-balance.
Okay, so he had a point. Blurting out "I love you" either during or just after sex was never a good idea, as it had the potential to seriously freak the other person out, big time.
In fact, Loki wasn't entirely wrong, because there was a valid scientific explanation for over-sharing after engaging in sex. Darcy could even recall a study she'd read in her Social Psychology class, which explained how sex creates a sense of intimacy, the feeling of a close bond with another person, so that you subconsciously want that closeness to last, which can lead to you whispering sweet nothings to your bed-partner in the hopes that you can bring them even deeper into your inner world.
But this was not the case for her. She loved Loki, God help her. And she had already been painfully aware of that even before she'd spilled her feelings to him.
She realised then, that maybe if she found the courage to tell him again, but with more conviction, then perhaps she'd be able to convince him that she truly meant it.
It was risky. He might laugh in her face, and find it ridiculous that she could feel so strongly for him after such a short time. But she had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.
Taking a deep breath, she summoned up all her nerve, and took a huge leap into the unknown.
"I do love you, Loki."
He laughed humourlessly. "Love is a lie, borne from childish need."
Ugh. Yup. He had laughed in her face. The bastard.
But Darcy got the distinct impression that his negative statement stemmed from years of having believed that he was incapable of loving, or being loved in return. Such cold words, nothing more than the product of his state of mind.
"If you don't believe in love then how come you asked me if I loved Greg?" She challenged.
"I, well....you're mortal." He pointed out, faltering slightly. "They're absurd when it comes to such sentiment. It's human idiocy."
"Oh and you Gods are above all that, right? Or is it just you? Is love too common and lowly and stupid for you, Mister High-and-Mighty? Because Thor loves Jane--"
"Thor is a fool. An uneducated oaf who thinks only with his fists."
"Whatever. He still loves Jane and she loves him. So whether you like it or not you have to accept that I love you. Do you think it was an easy thing for me to accept? Hell no. But I've had to."
"Fine!" He grated, forcing a smile, which must've been difficult because his jaw was still clenched. "I accept it. Now can we please drop the matter?"
"Drop the matter?" She stared at him incredulously.
"Yes, for heavens sake. I've said I believe you."
"And that's all you've got to say?"
He had come to a halt in the middle of the room, and stood rigidly still. The rock hard set of his shoulders betrayed his tension. Anger and resentment seemed to swirl in the air around him.
"What would you have me say?" He asked with obvious irritation. "I compliment you on your excellent taste."
Now Darcy hadn't wanted him to return her declaration out of politeness, neither did she expect him too. Navigating love was always a tricky thing, and where Loki was concerned it was bound to be an emotional minefield. But the rejection stung, and his flippant remark packed one hell of a metaphorical punch to her gut.
Rising to her feet, she found herself glaring at him in such a way that would've made Medusa herself, proud.
"Run!" She said, her voice low and filled with fury.
"Darcy, I---"
"Run, back to America. Or Sakaar. Or hell. Just.....run! Before I tear you a new one!"
Raising his hands in mock-surrender, Loki instinctively took a step backwards as she took one forwards. "Darcy, I intended no offence."
"Well offend me you did!" She yelled, advancing towards him and shoving him hard in the chest.
To her annoyance his shoulders swayed back slightly, but his solid frame didn't budge.
"Do you have any idea the balls it takes to open your heart like that? Do you? Oh, no of course you don't, because you don't believe you're capable of loving someone or of being loved. But it's a pretty huge deal to us stupid humans. So just because you don't feel the same or don't think you're worthy of love, doesn't give you the right to mock me, you fucking jerk!"
The look on Loki's face was equal parts shock and consternation. His mouth opened and closed again, his brow furrowing deeper. She turned and stomped back over to the bed, and he followed anxiously behind, which only made her angrier and angrier.
Shit, this was all wrong. They'd just had sex. They should be wallowing in blissful, post-coital content, not bickering. And all the while the words "He doesn't love me back. He doesn't love me back." resounded around her head on a continuous, taunting loop. Which was stupid, she realised. Because she ought to have known that he didn't feel for her, the way she felt for him.
He was emotionally damaged and unavailable, and it was much too soon.
"Darcy, I apologise. Perhaps it was insensitive of me not to acknowledge your act of emotional bravery--"
Darcy held up her hand. "Don't. Don't you dare patronise me any more today. I'm at my limit."
He looked monumentally perturbed now. "It wasn't my intention to patronise you or....."
She shot him a look that made his teeth click together, which she found immensely satisfying.
"I just want to sleep. I'm really tired. And done. So done." She muttered, swinging her legs up onto the bed.
Sinking back into the soft mattress, she pulled the covers up, letting the comfort and warmth envelop her. But her limbs were locking-up with anxious tension, and her anger was rapidly dissolving into plain old hurt.
God, she was such an idiot. Opening her heart, as well as her mouth, and speaking the words she felt and giving voice to their true meaning, was an enormous task. And yet when she'd mustered the courage to do it, he'd basically thrown it back in her face.
Which was so not cool. But she was more angry with herself than Loki, for being so naive and loose-lipped.
Moving round to the other side of the bed, brusquely, Loki grumbled inaudibly under his breath.
Forcing her eyes closed, she tried to lose herself in the comfort of the magnificent bed, but she felt him climb in beside her beneath the covers, which was distracting and intolerable. Feeling him move around on the other side of the vast mattress, having him so close by, but out of reach, was unbearable.
"Do you want me to switch off the light?" He asked suddenly.
"Yeah, that might be an idea." She responded sarcastically.
He gave a huff, and she heard him fumbling for the switch on the bedside lamp. Then the room was plunged into silent darkness, and shit....she was suddenly so close to tears.
An agonising few minutes seemed to drag by like hours. The silence so amplified she was convinced she could hear herself blinking.
Then she felt him turn over, so that he was facing her back, and he spoke unexpectedly.
"Isn't it customary to hold ones bed partner? Especially after having been carnally intimate with them?"
Darcy fought to quell the quiver in her voice. "You mean spooning? Yeah. In fact it's almost considered bad manners not to, when you've had your wicked way with a girl. But I don't know how things work up in space, but here you don't do it just 'cause you feel you have to."
"Don't be absurd. I don't feel obliged to hold you."
"Well, don't bother." She said tersely, embittered by his earlier rejection. "I really don't want you to. It's not exactly something you wanna do after an argument."
He said nothing more after that, and Darcy had to swallow a silent sob that was bubbling up in her throat. She was being sulky and unreasonable, but she was feeling so confused and hurt, and had absolutely no idea how to deal with the myriad of messy emotions that were overwhelming her.
What she wouldn't have given to be able to swallow her stubborn pride, and snuggle into him. To have him hold her tenderly, not begrudgingly, as she nestled into the bed, the covers surrounding them like a cocoon.
It was unarguably warm and cosy, even if the lack of Loki's embrace meant it wasn't quite perfect.
But thanks to her exhaustion, she soon succumbed to drowsiness, and drifted off into a much-needed sleep.
*********************
Darcy awoke a few hours later with a start. Heart beating wildly, palms sweaty, she sat up shakily in the bed.
The room was still cloaked in darkness, and her mind was hampered by sleep, but she instinctively reached across the bed to where Loki should be.
Relief flooded her as she felt him, registering that he was tucked-up safely here with her in the hotel room.
She'd had the most horrific nightmare.
A nightmare filled with alien creatures unlike anything Darcy had ever seen before, even in the most graphic of horror movies. An unknown planet, a dark cell, and Loki. He was being kept there, bound, threatened, and tortured.
Tortured until he'd surrendered, and agreed to a bargain of the darkest sort.
Her blood ran cold as she replayed the jagged, broken fragments of it over in her mind. Some monstrous being had tortured him brutally, broken him, forcing him into servitude.
Just then Loki let out a haunting cry, causing her to almost leap right out of her skin. The ungodly noise chilled her to the bone.
His body jerked wildly, and she leaned over him anxiously, thoughts of her nightmare now forgotten.
"Loki? What's wrong?"
He writhed as if in agony, and she managed to skirt away just in time to avoid being inadvertently struck by one of his long arms, as he thrashed around in his fitful slumber.
Leaping from the bed, she stumbled blindly in the dark, feeling and fumbling her way around to the other side, Hastily she switched on the light, and fell to her knees on the floor.
"Loki! Wake up!" She urged, cautiously taking his bare shoulders in her small hands, attempting to shake him gently awake. His skin was cold and clammy to the touch, his face contorted. "Loki! Please! Wake up!" She pleaded, panic frothing in her throat.
She shook him more vigorously, and this time his eyes snapped open. Abruptly he sat bolt-upright, gasping raggedly.
"It's okay, it's okay. I think you were having a bad dream." She croaked, her own eyes filling with tears.
Seeing him in such a state, had affected her deeply.
His eyes darted nervously around the room, disorientated. The unfamiliar surroundings adding to his turmoil.
"We're in the hotel, in Paris. Remember? Everything's okay."
His gaze settled on her face, and it took a moment for him to focus. Her hands were on his chest now, which was heaving up and down due to his laboured breathing. He ran a large hand over the twisted sheets which had been covering his torso, they were drenched in sweat.
"It's alright." He rasped, in a vain attempt to reassure her. "I'm fine."
"I don't think you are." She wailed softly, shaking her head. "Were you having a nightmare?"
He nodded weakly. "Yes....it was just a bad dream. Nothing more."
"No. I had one too, it was about you, and..." Her words dissolved into a sob, as her heart wrenched in on itself.
"Darcy? Why are you crying? What is the matter?" Loki asked, his wits having slowly returned to him. Now he couldn't understand why she was so distraught.
Pulling her against him, he rubbed her back tenderly. "Sweetheart, you're trembling."
Clutching onto him desperately, Darcy wept uncontrollably. Slobbering unattractively all over his beautiful skin. The OCD aristocrat in him was bound to love that, she thought fleetingly, but she couldn't quite bring herself to let him go, in order to wipe the tears away.
"Sshh. It's alright." He soothed, enfolding her in his strong arms. "You're safe now. I'm here. Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head against his chest. "Not really. But it's weird that we both had a nightmare, don't you think? What did you dream about?"
He paused, and she felt him take a deep, unsteady breath. His heart was still thudding rapidly beneath his rib cage, beating like a tribal drum in her ear.
"The Tesseract and the Chitauri.....And of Thanos, and the Black Order."
"The Black Order?"
He cleared his throat. "Yes. They serve Thanos. I had the grave misfortune of making their acquaintance in the Sanctuary."
"What's the Sanctuary?" She ventured, somewhat apprehensively.
"The Sanctuary is an asteroid field inhabited by the Chitauri. It is the domain of Thanos." He explained, his eyes brimming with suppressed emotion. "When I fell from the fractured bifrost bridge and into Yggdrasil, I was transported there. That is where I met the Chitari King, who introduced me to Thanos. Their intention was to broker a deal where I would use the Space infinity stone to open up a portal for the Chitari army to invade earth, enabling me to conquer and rule the entire planet. In exchange, I was to deliver the Tesseract to the mad Titan."
"And you agreed?"
"Not willingly." He admitted, features crumpling into a look of contemplative sadness. "I was subjected to....various forms of barbaric persuasion, and when all their instruments of torture failed.....I was manipulated using a form of mind control. Ironically, it was thanks to our friendly neighbourhood Hulk, who quite literally, knocked the sense back into me."
At that, Darcy pulled back to look at him through her tear-filled eyes. "So, basically you mean you were dreaming about stuff that's actually happened to you? Oh my God!"
The muscles around his jaw flexed, and his eyes glittered with anger as he became perceptibly defensive. "I would rather you didn't make a fuss over it, if you don't mind."
"No, you don't get it. Loki, that's what I saw in my dream. You being kept in a cell, and tortured by these hideous creatures--"
"What?" The anger had completely vanished now, as his eyes clouded with confusion. "Are you absolutely certain?"
"Yes of course, that's why I was so upset. And how else would I know about the weird alien planet? And the monsters and the cell, and the....and the torture."
Loki's mouth fell open slightly without his permission, and he leaned back against the pillows as if in shock.
"What does it mean, L? How is it possible for us to dream the same thing?" She persisted.
Bringing his hands up to his head, he rubbed at his temples with his fingertips, as he tried to collect his thoughts and regain some composure.
"I do possess a number of mental and extrasensory powers, which are analogous to psionic abilities."
Darcy sighed. "Speak English, please?"
"I can broadcast my thoughts into other minds. Admittedly, I do not use my telepathic powers very often. Only when I need to mentally project an image of myself to communicate with beings in other places. However, it would seem that I subconsciously projected the images of my dream into your own mind as I was sleeping. I'm....sorry."
"Sorry? Don't be sorry." She insisted, gazing up at him in wonderment. "You're incredible! I had no idea you had those kinds of powers."
"Not many do. Their complexity is often too great for people to comprehend."
"As weird as it sounds, I'm actually kinda glad that it happened, because at least I can understand you better now that I've seen your past and..." She halted, choked-up again by the traumatic events he had been subjected to.
"Do not pity me." He said, a little sharply. "I do not want your pity."
"It's not pity. It just breaks my heart. Knowing you had to go through all of that, but you...well, never mind. I guess you wouldn't understand."
"Would I not?"
She shook her head. "No. It's human idiocy, as you would say."
Fresh tears began to fall silently down her face. And to her surprise, Loki leaned forwards and carefully brushed them away with his thumbs. then gently stroked the top of her head affectionately, before resting his large palm against her forehead.
"You feel hot to the touch. I do hope you're not coming down with a fever."
"I'm not. I get hot when I cry."
And she actually couldn't have given a damn if she was coming down with the plague. All she could think about was the all-consuming need to prove her devotion to him.
She ached to tell him she loved him, but if his earlier performance was anything to go by, she strongly doubted he'd take it very well.
She'd said it already, more than once. He'd heard it. He wasn't deaf and he didn't suffer with amnesia. He needed space. Saying it more than once without hearing it back would just be as emotionally gut-wrenching, and she didn't want him thinking she was emotionally needy.
But that didn't stop her from wanting him to love her. Only her.
Darcy loved him, and it was serious 'my heart belongs to you' love.
Though admittedly she wasn't exactly happy with this ownership of her heart, but that didn't stop her loving the bones of him, with all her heart and soul.
If only it was possible to show him what it was to be loved. To be cherished.
She wanted to save him from the memories of his traumatising past. To save him from his own destructive nature, his self-sabotaging thoughts. If she could've somehow traveled back in time, she would cross a million galaxies to save him from the evil clutches of Thanos, and the Black Order, and whoever else had ever hurt him....she wouldn't hesitate.
And as for the future, she wanted nothing more than to be there for him everyday. To take care of him, and enjoy life with him. To help him find the parts of himself he'd lost along the way. She was convinced she could help him put himself back together.
In short, she would do anything in her power to make Loki happy. To keep him safe, and as he was, but without the pain. Because she also appreciated his glorious complexity. He was perfect to her. She wanted him. Everything about him. She wanted it all. And to love him until she drew her last breath, with every fibre of her being.
She was just contemplating how bad she had it, when suddenly Loki pulled his hand away almost aggressively, as if her skin had actually burned him somehow.
Darcy blinked, registering the fresh shock on his handsome face. He looked as if he'd just had all the air knocked out of his lungs. His expression was a complete rictus of stunned amazement. His aqua eyes, swimming with bewilderment and awe.
"What is it?" She prompted, reaching out to take the hand he'd snatched away.
"I....." Words seemed to be failing him, which was a unique experience for Darcy.
"You, what?"
He swallowed hard, Adam's apple visibly bobbing in his throat. "I....I don't....I don't understand."
She chanced a nervous half-smile. "Neither do I, unless you regain the ability to speak in full sentences."
Her teasing wasn't enough to raise a smile. In fact, he seemed far too distracted to speak, let alone smile.
"Loki. You're starting to scare me now. What is it?"
"I have never been able to perceive the thoughts of others before." He said finally. "I can transfer my own thoughts, and unlock suppressed memories in other people by placing my hand on their forehead. I can also plant hypnotic suggestions in their mind. But....my telepathy doesn't usually extend to being able to read minds."
Darcy frowned. She couldn't even begin to figure out the way his magic worked, so if he was temporarily stumped, then there was no helpful advice or simple explanation she could offer.
"I dunno, maybe it's a glitch in the Matrix."
His eyes shimmered slightly in the dim glow of the lamplight, and for all the world it appeared that they were glazed with unshed tears.
Oh God.
Call her a pathetic, weak woman, but she honestly didn't think she could handle actually seeing Loki cry.
It would kill her.
She was already an emotional wreck right now.
"Are you sure it's never happened before?" She asked, her voice wavering. "Maybe it's-- Hang on. What? Are you saying that you've literally just read my freakin' mind?"
"Unintentionally."
"But that means that....ugh. You know exactly what I was thinking!" Her voice had grown squeaker with each word, until she wasn't even able to form sounds anymore.
Sitting forwards, he brought his face level with hers. "That's correct. I saw everything. I saw it all, felt it all, the way your....your emotions, poured into my mind."
Darcy's face burnt like a brand, and a strangled noise escaped her mouth which sounded like a small dying animal.
Great.
Now he'd think she was completely crazy.
But...did that mean.....he now believed her?
The way he was looking at her with such concentrated focus, as if he'd just awoken from some deep, isolating sleep and was seeing her for the very first time, was encouraging. If not a little unnerving.
"Is this love, Darcy?" His voice was whisper soft, and filled with an anxious sort of hope. "Because I've had to endure rejection, betrayal and disappointment all my life, and it damn near destroyed me. And I'm not wiling to suffer any more of it. So, are you absolutely certain of your feelings? Because I'm not the sort of man who loves in a half-hearted fashion. It's all or nothing with me."
She felt the thrill run through her at his words. She wanted nothing more in the world than to be loved so ardently by him forever.
"Loki, I....I've realised since meeting you that I'd never been in love before. I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you." She let out a shaky breath. "I love you, I love you so freakin' much."
She became lost in the kaleidoscope of his gaze. His eyes displaying varying intense emotions. And in that moment, they had never looked so blue. So soft. So tender.
She breathed in, trying to catch her breath. The irrepressible joy bubbling inside her chest caused her heart to swell, and she was convinced it was about to explode.
"Okay, we've done more than enough talking for now. As much as I've enjoyed it, I'd much rather be kissing you." She smiled dreamily at him, and then she wasn't quite sure what happened next, because he was too busy kissing her, and she was too busy grabbing him, and holding onto him for dear life.
She showered her beloved trickster with kisses, telling him she loved him, over and over again. There were no other words she could think of, but they seemed perfectly adequate, as his grin was so wide it made her want to sob with happiness.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she fell backwards onto the soft mattress, pulling him down with her, wanting the full, solid weight of his body on top of hers.
"I don't want to crush you." He smiled against her lips, humour lacing his voice.
Darcy could tell he was still holding back, resting on his forearms somewhat, which were up by her head.
"I want you to crush me." She replied.
He chuckled softly, and then he brought his mouth to hers more ravenously, as though filled with a hungered need to devour her full lips.
Loki had undoubtedly neglected his carnal needs over the past -- goodness knows how many -- years. And now he appeared to have rediscovered his previously-lost mojo, and seemed eager to make up for all that lost time.
Knowing that little old her was responsible for reawakening his dormant libido, was a heady feeling indeed.
Before getting into bed, he must've removed his bathrobe, so he was starkly, conveniently naked.
As he pressed his hips into her, he was already hard. Even through her robe, Darcy could feel the heat of it. An answering heat pooled between her legs, flooding the parts of her which were still yet to recover, with lustful warmth. and she gave in to it willingly.
He began pulling at her robe with barely contained frustration. His restrained sexual-aggression was sexy as hell, as he tried to get to her body, while still kissing her feverishly. They became locked in a sensual tug-of-war as she wriggled beneath him, pushing as he pulled, equally mad with the need to feel him against her.
His lips broke from her mouth abruptly so that he could lift himself slightly and practically tear the irksome bathrobe open, then he came crashing down on her again. The contact of their bare skin set a spark off to all her nerve endings, and everything throbbed and glowed with anticipation.
Lust and passion radiated off him as if it pulsed through his very veins, and within a matter of seconds he'd found his way inside her, the exquisite invasion painful enough to make her yelp.
"Do you want me to stop?" He breathed, mindful of causing her discomfort.
"Don't you dare!" She warned, semi-playfully, in the hopes of alleviating his reservations.
This proved to be all the encouragement he required, and soon his silky body was rolling against hers, moving atop her with smooth, fluid motion.
For Darcy, all sense of reality was lost. It was just her and Loki, in that moment, conjoining in a wild symphony of flesh, delighting in each other's bodies as they become one.
But something else was also happening. Something very peculiar, astonishing and unexpected, and the hard rush of emotion hit her like a tidal wave, stealing her breath, as he suddenly opened up his mind to her, and let her have it....
He was projecting his unguarded thoughts, the outpouring of wordless, complex emotions came rushing into her mind, vibrating and flashing hot and dark.
"Oh my God." Darcy whispered helplessly.
There was guilt, because he had initially thought of her as less....but, he'd come to realise she wasn't the same as other humans. She was more. She was special. And it was as much news to him as it was to Darcy.
He respected her, and he'd reluctantly added this foreign sensation to the ever-increasing mental list of unsettling feelings he was experiencing. His growing regard for Darcy had made him extremely uneasy. It still unsettled him greatly. He felt a fierce sort of protectiveness in his feelings towards her, and a possessiveness that shocked her to the very core.
And nothing could have prepared him for the triumph, the satisfaction he felt at having won her unrestrained affections, her heart, and her body.
The notorious God of Mischief had feelings for her. Real feelings. He just hadn't fully acknowledged it to himself yet.
As she watched his face in the subdued light, heart pounding, limbs buzzing, she wondered if he even knew how much he was revealing. His mind flowered open, giving her his affection, his gratitude, his pleasure.
Darcy's helpless whimpers were arousing to him, they made him feel wild, strong and savage. Her mortality was both an anxiety, and an unexpected pleasure. Loki was intensely aware of how delicate she was, which served to remind him of his own strength. He could easily destroy her without even trying, and her fragility had triggered an intense desire in him to protect.
The intensity of it all was simply mind-blowing, and there was no way to describe the sublimity of the experience. It was like a mutual erotic worship, and she ached to say something -- anything -- in acknowledgment, but any words that came to Darcy's mind didn't seem enough, and they backed up in her throat.
She was scared and thrilled and elated by what they had become. The two of them. There was no name for it.
They moaned together, each of them breathing fast. She slid her hands up his wide, solid chest, across his broad shoulders, along his strong arms, then down his muscular back, where they came to rest on the curve of his toned buttocks, so that she could feel his rhythmic thrusting beneath her touch, as well as deep inside.
Every inch of him was smooth and hard. Lean muscle covered in fine, velvety white skin.
His thoughts became darker and sexier, flowing into her mind like a deep, dark river of desire. He showed her the physical sensations he felt, and how the sight of her body aroused him.
The weight of his sinewy body on top of her was deliciously warm, and indescribable, which stimulated the sensory overload even further.
He was taking his own sweet time, applying more care, tenderness and affection as he made love to her slowly, intimately and sensually, and Darcy had never felt more beautiful or desired in her entire life than she did in that moment, seeing herself through his eyes.
Needless to say, the combined sensations were defeating in their intensity. Her mind reeled, her body trembled, and her heart sang as he rode her through each climax.
Loki revelled in her mewled cries, as the immeasurable pleasure whiplashed through her body like white-hot flashes of lightning, splitting through the dark unknown.
She reached the pivotal of all pleasures so many times, she lost count, and was barely still coherent when Loki came. His own release rendered him practically incapacitated, as his body shuddered violently, the sensation ripping his soul wide open.
His large hands fisted into the sheets by her head, as he moaned-out her name, before involuntarily sagging against her, satiated and spent.
Darcy couldn't move. She couldn't breath. And she didn't want to.
Afterwards, they lay panting together in a sweaty tangle of limbs and dishevelled bedsheets, basking in the afterglow like true lovers. Loki's arms held her close against his wall of torso, and his long legs entwined around hers.
"Wow." She muttered, fighting for breath. "That was pretty special."
"Yes it was rather." He concurred.
She smiled secretively to herself, absently wondering what Jane's reaction would be if she ever learned of her interns' amorous exploits with Thor's adopted brother.
Would she ever know? Would Darcy ever be able to share the dramatic revelation, the delicious secret, with her?
That conversation would require lots of tact, which would be challenging, because she wanted to scream from the rooftops that she was hopelessly in love with the God of Mischief.
How would everyone else respond to such shocking news?
No one would expect it. Literally, no one.
Everybody except Thor treated Loki with a combination of contempt, fear, suspicion, and even outright hatred.
And to all outward appearances Loki felt nothing but contempt, derision, and hatred towards everybody else.
Okay so Tony had voiced some concerns that Loki might try and take advantage of her, but surely even he wouldn't suspect -- or even believe -- that Rock Of Ages had it in him to become emotionally involved.
Her thoughts then turned to their current predicament, and she found herself remembering something that Loki had mentioned earlier, regarding his telepathic abilities.
"Hey, Loki?"
"Hm?"
"Did you say you were able to project an image of yourself to someone in another place?"
"Yes. Why?" His voice was low and sleepy, suggesting that he was on the verge of dozing off.
"Well, couldn't you use that to contact someone who could help us get back? Maybe Thor would understand. He is your brother--"
"Adopted."
She paused, and gave a small sigh. "Right, adopted. Sorry. Anyway, I'm sure if you were to come clean and explain everything to him he might be okay with it."
"Okay with it?" He echoed. "I highly doubt it."
"But if we don't ask for help how else are we going to get back? The longer we leave it the worse it's gonna get. Everyone will lose their shit--"
"Who says I want to go back? I'm rather tempted to remain a free man, as long as I have my little earth girl by my side, and in my bed."
His words squeezed at her heart, and suddenly she was picturing the two of them living in sinful, blissful ignorance. Outlaws on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D, surviving on instinct and exploring the world together.
So that all seemed really romantic and exciting. It was even quite adorable.
They'd be like those scruffy little teddies you get on greeting cards, surrounded by love hearts and little birds.
Except the reality was dramatically different.
The Avengers would find them, and there'd be hell to pay.
"Shit, Loki. As much as I'd happily give up my life back home to go on the run with you, you're smart enough to know we wouldn't get very far."
Turning over to face him, she studied his serious expression. Wishing he would share his thoughts with her now, vocally or telepathically. The features of his face seemed to be etched with an anxious concern, which disappeared at a moments notice as his face split into a mischievous grin.
"Very well, I shall give your suggestion some serious consideration. But I must warn you that I have no intentions of going anywhere until I've had you all over this suite."
"Pervert!" She giggled, delivering him a playful dig to the ribs.
He jerked back slightly, and gave a deep chuckle. And at that precise moment in time she swore she knew every line, and each texture of his face. She was actually beginning to believe she somehow knew the man -- the inner man -- who remained an enigma to everyone.
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close and she snuggled against him, tucking her head beneath his chin. And it was becoming increasingly obvious, at least to her if not him, that they seemed to fit together perfectly, like two spoons in a drawer.
Not just physically but emotionally.
And now she was sorely tempted to say 'to hell with it' and rebuild a new life for herself, with her mischievous new lover. Because she never wanted to leave this place.
Ever. Ever. Ever.
When they were together if was as if they were the only two people in the world. The universe even. And when she was in his arms it felt like all the planets in the universe aligned. Everything was right with the world. All the worlds.
Such was the perplexing mystification that had become 'Loki and Darcy'