My sincere request: Please don't share these publicly
My goal is to do this work full-time, so I can share more of this fantasy art that I love with you.
But if people post my artwork and videos for free, it makes it very difficult for me to make a living.
Please help keep this community alive and refrain from sharing the member's only content.
Thank you!!!
- Nick (the artist behind The Merry Mage)
Note: This is my first short story and set featuring my new ultra high resolution style.
The detail is way beyond anything I've achieved before. I hope you enjoy it! : )
Saving Jane
I poured another shot of whiskey into the tumbler, and the ice cubes rattled against the sides. The liquid burned as it went down my throat, numbing the ache in my chest. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, trying to push away the memories that clung to me like cobwebs.
The apartment was eerily quiet, save for the occasional creaking of old pipes. It felt like a tomb, a cold and lonely reminder of my broken marriage. My wife, my best friend and lover for twenty years, had left me for someone else. Someone younger, stronger, more exciting. And here I was, forty years old and alone, seeking refuge in a bottle of cheap whiskey as I mourned the loss of what was supposed to be forever.
Suddenly, a blinding light filled the room, and the air crackled with an energy that made my hair stand on end. Before I could even register surprise, Thor, the God of Thunder himself, stood in my living room, his imposing figure casting long shadows in the dim light.
"Agent," he boomed, his voice resonating with an otherworldly power, "I have a mission for you, one of great importance."
My initial shock gave way to confusion. Me? A middle-aged, desk-jockey SHIELD agent, chosen for a mission by the God of Thunder? It seemed ludicrous.
Thor, sensing my bewilderment, continued, "Jane Foster, she... she is dying."
My heart sank. Jane Foster, the brilliant astrophysicist, Thor's love, was dying? How? Why?
"The Norns," Thor explained, referring to the Asgardian fates, "have revealed that her fate was sealed long ago, by exposure to a dangerous radiation source when she was but a young woman."
He then explained that he'd consulted with sorcerers and they'd figured out a way to use the Bifrost to send someone back in time to a specific location. It was incredibly dangerous and had never been done before. He needed someone he could trust.
“So you’re choosing… me?” I asked, a bit confused.
"We needed an agent with a background in astrophysics and… well, you're the only one. You need to pose as a classmate of hers,” he explained.
“Got it,” I said, a bit deflated.
“I need you to go back, to protect her," Thor pleaded, his usually stoic face etched with worry. "You must find the source of the radiation and prevent her exposure. The fate of the realms hangs in the balance."
Realms? What did Jane Foster's cancer have to do with the fate of the realms? Clearly, there was more to this than met the eye. But before I could question him further, Thor handed me a small, metallic device, pulsing with an eerie blue light.
"This will transport you to the exact moment, to her college years at Harvard," he instructed. "But be warned, agent, do not deviate from your mission. Do not, under any circumstances, interfere with the timeline."
He leaned in, his gaze piercing, "Do not fuck this up," he growled, a playful wink softening the threat before he gestured towards his hammer with a mock frown. "Or else."
With a surge of energy that sent my senses reeling, I found myself standing just outside a crowded lecture hall, the scent of chalk dust and old books filling the air. The year was 1994.
I slipped in and immediately saw her, the young Jane Foster, sitting in the front row, eyes riveted on the professor. Thankfully the seat next to her was open, so I took it, giving her a nod as she smiled at me.
She was even more beautiful than I remembered, her youthful energy radiating from her. She glanced over at me again and whispered, "New here?", her voice sending shivers down my spine.
"Yeah," I stammered, my carefully constructed cover story suddenly feeling flimsy under her intense gaze. "Back to school, pursuing my first love... astrophysics."
Her smile widened. "Welcome back, then," she said, and in that instant, I knew I was in trouble. My mission was clear: protect Jane Foster. But how could I protect her when I was already falling for her?
We talked after class, her enthusiasm for the subject infectious. We ended up at Bartlett's Burgers, the greasy spoon a stark contrast to the celestial wonders we discussed. I tried to subtly probe her about her work, her hobbies, anything that might hint at the source of the radiation, but she saw right through me.
"You're awfully curious about my life, aren't you?" she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Over the next few weeks, our relationship blossomed. We spent hours talking on the steps of the Widener Library, our conversations ranging from the mysteries of the cosmos to the mundane details of our daily lives. We'd grab coffee at Au Bon Pain, our laughter echoing amidst the clatter of cups and the murmur of other students. Sometimes, we'd end up back at her apartment, poring over textbooks, eating ramen, and sharing stories late into the night.
One late night, our brains were totally fried from hours of studying astrophysics. Jane, in a moment of playful frustration, had started spouting gibberish, throwing around terms like "temporal modulator" and "chroniton particles" and “reversing the polarity of the flux capacitor.” We'd dissolved into laughter, inventing a whole new language of scientific nonsense.
But it was the next night she surprised me with news. "Oh wow, an assistantship with Professor Killian," I said, slightly on guard at this development. Jane had just excitedly shared it, her eyes sparkling with a mix of pride and anticipation. "He's supposed to be brilliant, a real rising star in the field." I offered a congratulatory smile, though inwardly, a strange unease settled in my stomach. Killian. The name seemed to echo with a faint, unsettling familiarity, but I couldn't quite place it. I pushed the feeling aside, focusing on Jane's enthusiasm. "This is a fantastic opportunity for you," I said, genuinely pleased for her. "You deserve it."
Initially, Jane seemed thrilled with the assistantship. She'd gush about Killian's intellect, his innovative research, the cutting-edge technology he was developing. But as the weeks passed, I started noticing subtle changes in her demeanor. A flicker of apprehension in her eyes, a tightness in her smile, a hesitance when she spoke about her work.
One day, as we were leaving the library, I decided to broach the subject. "Jane," I began, "is everything okay with the assistantship? You seem... a little stressed."
She quickly averted her gaze, a forced smile plastered on her face. "Oh, it's nothing," she said, her voice a little too bright. "Just the usual pressure, you know? Lots of work, long hours." She changed the subject, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. But I couldn't shake the feeling that she was hiding something.
The weeks leading up to the fateful day were a blur of late-night study sessions, shared meals at Bartlett's, and stolen moments of laughter amidst the academic grind. Jane was often preoccupied, her mind buzzing with ideas and theories, fueled by the long hours she spent working on Professor Killian's research.
"He's really pushing me," she confided one evening, a tired but exhilarated smile on her face. "But I'm learning so much." I nodded, trying to ignore the pang of... was it jealousy? No, it was more like a subtle envy, a sense of being on the outside looking in at this world of groundbreaking science. I was here to protect her, not compete with her academic pursuits.
But with every passing day, the weight of my mission grew heavier. The date of the supposed radiation exposure was fast approaching, and I still had no clue what I was looking for.
And worse, Jane was falling for me. I had told myself that there’s no way she’d ever be interested in me. She’s young and gorgeous and brilliant, and I’m a 40 year old divorced loser. But by the third week, it was getting hard to ignore.
The innocent brushes of her hand against mine, the playful way she'd pop a fry into my mouth, the low hang of her shirt when we hung out, the time she walked into the living room with her shirt unbuttoned and just slowly buttoned it up while talking to me – it was a torture I hadn't anticipated.
But I was a soldier, trained to be disciplined, and the image of Thor's hammer-wielding warning helped keep me in line.
The night before the fateful day, Jane was late to our usual study session at her apartment. I was starting to get worried when I heard her keys rattling in the door, followed by a stumble and a soft thud against the wall. I could immediately tell she’d been both drinking and crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks streaked with mascara, and she reeked of wine.
When we got inside, I sat her down on the couch and asked her what was going on. She looked up at me, her lower lip trembling, and then burst into tears.
"Oh, Jane," I said softly, pulling her into a hug. "What's wrong?"
She sobbed against my chest, her body shaking with emotion. "It's just... there's someone," she mumbled between hiccuping breaths. "Someone I've fallen for... but he just sees me... as a friend."
My heart jumped into my chest. There was only one person she could be talking about...
I held her tight, stroking her hair and whispering soothing words. After a few minutes, her sobs subsided, and she pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm such a mess."
"It's okay," I reassured her. "Everyone has bad days. Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "I just need a minute," she said, getting up and walking towards her bedroom.
I watched her go, my heart aching for her. I wanted to follow her, to comfort her, to tell her everything would be alright. But I knew I couldn't. I had to keep my distance, maintain the charade.
After a few minutes, I got up and knocked softly on her bedroom door.
"Jane?" I called out. "Are you okay?"
"Come in," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I opened the door and stepped inside, my breath catching in my throat. Jane was standing in the middle of the room, completely naked, her body bathed in the soft light from the bedside lamp. Her expression was a mix of vulnerability and hope, her eyes filled with an unspoken plea.
My heart shattered. There was nothing more in the world I wanted than to be with her, to hold her, to tell her how much I loved her. But I couldn't. I had a mission, a duty to protect her, even if it meant breaking both our hearts.
"Oh, Jane, Jane..." I whispered, my voice heavy with emotion.
The tone of my voice, the sadness and longing in it, spoke volumes. Jane's face crumpled, and she began to cry again, this time tears of disappointment and heartbreak.
"I'm sorry," she choked out, covering her face with her hands. "I shouldn't have..."
I walked towards her, gently pulling her hands away from her face. "Jane," I said, my voice soft but firm, "you're beautiful, incredible, and you deserve someone who can give you everything you deserve. Someone who can be there for you, truly be there for you."
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with tears. "But I want you," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I've fallen for you."
I closed my eyes, fighting back my own tears. My body ached to reach for her, to pull her close and lose myself in the moment. But I couldn't. I had a mission, a duty to protect her, even if it meant breaking both our hearts.
"Why can't you?" she asked, her voice laced with a desperate plea. "Do you... do you even feel anything for me?"
Her question pierced through me, twisting the knife already lodged in my heart. "Jane," I said, my voice thick with emotion, "I care about you more than you can possibly imagine. But I can't be with you. I can't tell you everything, not now. But please believe me, it's for your own good."
My cryptic answer only fueled her frustration. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, her voice rising in anger. "What are you hiding from me? Why can't you just be honest?"
I reached for her, wanting to comfort her, but she flinched away. "Don't touch me," she said, her voice cold and distant. "Just... please, leave."
I hesitated, my hand hovering in the air. I wanted to explain, to make her understand, but the words wouldn't come. I knew any attempt to reveal the truth might change the timeline forever.
"Alright," I said quietly, my voice heavy with defeat. "I'll... I'll be on the couch if you need anything."
I walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. The weight of my mission, the burden of my secret, pressed down on me like a physical force. I sank onto the couch, my mind racing, my heart heavy with guilt and despair.
I waited for her to come out, hoping for a chance to explain, to apologize. But she never did. Exhaustion finally overtook me, and I drifted off to sleep, the image of Jane, naked and vulnerable, burned into my mind.
I woke up with a start, my heart pounding in my chest. The apartment was dark, the only light filtering in from the streetlamp outside. I glanced at the clock on the wall. 3:00 AM. Suddenly, it hit me. Tomorrow was the day. The day Jane was supposed to be exposed to the radiation. And I was no closer to figuring out the source.
Panic clawed at me. I had to do something, anything. I got up and quietly made my way to Jane's desk, where she kept her research papers and notes. I started sifting through them, desperately searching for any clue, any hint that might lead me to the source of the radiation.
Hours passed, and I was no closer to finding anything useful. Just as I was about to give up, I came across a diagram of a strange device, a complex network of wires and tubes connected to a central chamber. It looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it. Then, I noticed some handwritten notes in the margin, Jane's neat script scribbled alongside the diagram.
"Prototype highly unstable," she had written. "Exercise extreme caution. Radioactive cesium core. Potential for uncontrolled energy release."
Radioactive cesium. Could this be it? Was this the source of the radiation that would ultimately lead to Jane's illness?
Just as I was absorbing this information, a voice startled me from behind.
"Who are you?" Jane whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and suspicion. "Who are you really?"
I turned to face her, my heart sinking. She was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide and filled with a haunting mixture of vulnerability and accusation. I had been caught red-handed, snooping through her private papers.
"Jane," I began, my voice faltering, "I can explain..."
"Who are you?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper, yet sharp with suspicion. "Why are you really here?"
The truth hung heavy in the air between us, a fragile bubble threatening to burst. I knew I couldn't lie to her anymore, not after everything we'd shared.
"Jane," I said, my voice heavy with the weight of my secret, "I'm not who you think I am. I'm not just a student... I came back in time to protect you."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Protect me? From what?"
I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "From something that could harm you," I said carefully. "Something that... might happen tomorrow."
"Harm me?" she echoed, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about? Are you saying someone is going to try to hurt me?"
I shook my head. "No, it's not like that. It's... complicated. There's something you might be exposed to, something that could have... long-term consequences for your health."
She stared at me, her eyes searching mine for answers. "I don't understand," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why are you here? Who sent you?"
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the truth. "I can't tell you everything, Jane. Not yet. But please believe me, I'm here to help you. I would never do anything to hurt you."
A wave of emotions washed over her face – confusion, fear, and a touch of betrayal. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice filled with hurt.
"I couldn't," I explained, my voice filled with regret. "I wasn't supposed to interfere. I wasn't supposed to... get involved."
She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and understanding. "But you did get involved," she said softly.
I nodded, my heart aching. "I did," I confessed. "And I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."
A long silence stretched between us, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Finally, she nodded, a single tear rolling down her cheek. It wasn't anger or resentment in her expression, but a deep sadness, a quiet acceptance of the impossible situation.
"I understand," she said, her voice barely audible. "You should go."
I started to move towards the door, a wave of relief washing over me that she wasn't furious. But then she spoke again, her voice catching me by surprise.
"No," she said, "it's late. Stay."
I turned back to look at her, confusion clouding my features.
"Sleep in the spare room," she insisted, her voice gaining strength. "I... I don't want to be alone tonight."
Secretly relieved to be able to stay near her, to ensure her safety, I agreed. "Okay," I said, my voice filled with gratitude.
I settled into the spare bedroom, the unfamiliar surroundings amplifying the strangeness of the situation. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, I felt the sheets shift, and a warm body slipped into the bed beside me.
"Jane?" I whispered, startled.
She silenced me with a gentle finger to my lips. "Shhh," she whispered back, her voice soft and close to my ear. "Just... hold me. At least give me this before you leave."
I couldn't resist. I pulled her close, her body fitting perfectly against mine. We lay there in silence, our hearts beating in unison, the warmth of her skin a stark contrast to the coldness of my mission. And for a few precious hours, I allowed myself to forget about the future, about the dangers that lurked ahead, and simply lose myself in the comfort of her embrace.
I awoke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains. As my eyes adjusted, I found myself face-to-face with a vision that took my breath away. Jane was propped up on the pillows beside me, her bare torso exposed, the gentle curves of her breasts catching the golden sunlight. Her tousled hair framed her face, and there was a hint of mischief in her eyes as she watched me stir.
"Well, look who's finally awake," she teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "It's the big day, time-traveler, and you're already sleeping on the job."
I blinked, still groggy from sleep but acutely aware of her proximity and state of undress. "I'm certainly awake now," I managed to say, my voice husky.
She smirked, leaning in closer. "Well," she purred, "I'll see what I can do to keep it that way."
What followed was a morning unlike any I had experienced before. Jane seemed determined to test the limits of my self-control, moving about the apartment in various states of undress. She'd saunter into the kitchen wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, reaching up to grab a mug from a high shelf, the hem rising to reveal tantalizing glimpses of skin.
As we ate breakfast, she "accidentally" spilled orange juice down her front, necessitating a slow, deliberate removal of her shirt right there at the table. She disappeared into the bathroom, emerging wrapped in a towel that seemed perpetually on the verge of slipping.
Each time our eyes met, there was a spark of electricity, a silent challenge in her gaze. It was torture of the sweetest kind, a constant reminder of what I couldn't have, what I had to protect her from.
As noon approached, Jane stretched languidly, her lithe form silhouetted against the window. "I think I'll take a hot bath," she announced, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Care to join me?"
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away. "I... I should study for that test this afternoon," I stammered, reaching for a textbook.
Jane shrugged, the motion causing her shirt to slip off one shoulder. "Suit yourself," she said, disappearing into the bathroom.
I tried to focus on the pages before me, but the words blurred together. My mind kept wandering to Jane, imagining her sinking into the steaming water, soap bubbles clinging to her skin. The sound of splashing water and her soft humming drifted through the closed door, each note a siren's call.
After what felt like an eternity, I heard the drain gurgle and the bathroom door open. Jane emerged, wrapped in a towel that barely covered her essentials, wisps of steam curling around her damp skin.
"Whew," she breathed, fanning herself. "That bath was a bit too hot." She padded across the room, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the hardwood floor.
"I need my hairbrush," she murmured, reaching across me to grab it from the coffee table. As she leaned over, I felt the heat radiating off her skin. The scent of her lavender soap enveloped me, mixed with the clean, warm smell of her freshly washed skin. Her damp hair brushed against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.
For a brief moment, her breast pressed against my arm as she stretched to reach the brush. I held my breath, acutely aware of the softness of her skin, the curve of her body. Time seemed to stand still as she lingered there, so close I could feel her breath on my neck.
Finally, she straightened up, brush in hand. Our eyes met, and I saw a flicker of desire in her gaze that mirrored my own. The air between us was charged with unspoken tension.
"Thanks," she said softly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Then she turned and walked back to the bathroom, leaving me breathless and struggling to regain my composure.
I tried to return my focus to my textbook, but the lingering scent of lavender and the phantom sensation of her touch made it impossible to concentrate.
I glanced at the clock. There were still hours to go before the moment I was sent here to prevent. Hours of exquisite agony as I fought against my growing feelings for Jane and the temptation she presented. I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. I told myself I had a mission to complete, no matter how difficult it might be.
That’s when Jane emerged from the bathroom again, fanned herself dramatically, and said, “Whew, I'm still way too overheated. You don't mind, do you?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she hooked her fingers under the edge of the towel and let it fall to the floor with a soft thump.
I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I could only stare, slack-jawed, at the vision before me. Jane was breathtaking - her long, toned legs, the gentle curve of her hips, the flat plane of her stomach, the swell of her breasts.
She put her hands on her hips, cocking them to one side in a pose that was both playful and provocative. "Well," she said, her voice low and teasing, "don't let me distract you."
I tried to respond, but all that came out was a strangled sound. My mouth opened and closed uselessly as I struggled to form words.
Jane's smile widened at my reaction. She took a step towards me, her movements slow and deliberate. I could smell the lavender scent of her soap, mixed with something uniquely her. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure she could hear it.
Just as she got close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her body, she spun around and sauntered out of the room, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her delicious bum.
When she returned a moment later, she was carrying a textbook. She settled onto the couch across from me, crossing her legs casually as if she weren't completely nude. "Mind if I study here?" she asked innocently.
I managed a weak nod, trying and failing to keep my eyes on my own book. Jane flipped through her notes, occasionally stretching or shifting position in ways that drew my gaze. The sunlight streaming through the window caressed her skin, highlighting every curve.
"You know," she mused, "I've always found quantum mechanics easier to understand when discussed out loud. Care to be my study partner?"
What followed was the most surreal and arousing study session of my life. We debated Schrödinger's equations and wave functions while Jane lounged nude on the couch, gesturing animatedly as she spoke. Her enthusiasm for the subject was genuine, her insights brilliant, but it was nearly impossible to focus on her words.
"You seem distracted," she teased at one point. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"
I cleared my throat. "Not at all," I lied. "Please, continue explaining spin statistics."
As the hour wore on, Jane found more and more excuses to move around the apartment. She'd get up to fetch a glass of water, bending over far more than necessary to reach a low cupboard. She'd stretch, arching her back in a way that made my mouth go dry. At one point, she even did a few yoga poses, claiming she needed to "get her blood flowing."
My body's reaction was inevitable and obvious. I shifted awkwardly, trying to hide my arousal, but Jane's knowing smirk told me I wasn't fooling anyone.
Finally, she sauntered over to where I sat, leaning in close. "You know," she murmured, her breath hot against my ear, "I think you might be even more interested in biology than astrophysics right now."
I swallowed hard. "Jane," I said, my voice hoarse, "we shouldn't..."
"Shouldn't what?" she asked innocently, her lips now mere inches from mine. "Shouldn't explore the laws of attraction? Shouldn't conduct a little experiment in chemistry?"
I knew I should resist, but my resolve was crumbling. "Jane, I..."
She silenced me with a kiss, soft and tentative at first, then growing more passionate. I kissed her back, unable to hold back any longer. Her lips were warm and inviting, tasting faintly of mint.
We were lost in the moment, hands exploring, hearts racing. Then suddenly, Jane pulled back, her eyes wide.
"Oh shit," she exclaimed, glancing at the clock. "We're going to be late for class!"
The spell broken, we scrambled into action. Jane dashed to her room to throw on clothes while I gathered our books, my hands shaking slightly. We rushed out the door.
For the next hours, we went to our shared classes as always, the familiar routine a strange comfort amidst the turmoil of our emotions. Everything seemed normal – the droning lectures, the scribbling of notes, the whispered conversations in the hallways. Yet, everything had changed. The air crackled with tension, a heightened awareness of each other's presence. Our stolen glances across the lecture hall, the accidental brushes of our hands, the lingering hugs after class – every interaction was charged with a newfound intimacy.
It was as if the dam of restraint had finally burst, unleashing a torrent of suppressed emotions. We were first-time lovers, giddy and tentative, exploring the uncharted territory of our connection. I told myself it was okay, that as long as I didn't cross the ultimate line, it wouldn't disrupt the timeline too much if we held hands, or cuddled, or shared a kiss in the shadows of the library stacks.
That night, back at Jane's apartment, I excused myself to take a quick shower, the hot water washing away the day's tension and leaving me feeling refreshed and strangely vulnerable. I emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, to find Jane waiting for me in the bedroom. She was completely naked, her body bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, a soft smile gracing her lips.
This time, I didn't resist. I let her pull me into an embrace, her skin warm against mine. We kissed, long and deep, our bodies pressed together, the world outside fading away. It was as if time stood still, the weight of my mission momentarily forgotten in the intoxicating bliss of the moment.
We pulled apart, both breathing heavily, our foreheads touching. Jane's eyes searched mine, filled with longing and a silent question. I knew we were at a crossroads - if we continued, there would be no going back. The responsible part of me knew I should stop this, but my resolve was crumbling rapidly.
"Are you sure?" I whispered, giving her one last chance to reconsider.
In response, Jane pulled me in for another passionate kiss. Her hands roamed over my chest and shoulders as I caressed her back, reveling in the softness of her skin. We fell onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and eager touches.
I trailed kisses down her neck, savoring her quiet gasps of pleasure. My lips found her collarbone, then moved lower to her breasts. I took my time, exploring every inch with reverent attention. Jane arched her back, pressing herself closer as my tongue swirled around her nipple.
Slowly, I made my way down her toned stomach, planting feather-light kisses as I went. Jane's fingers threaded through my hair, guiding me lower. I settled between her legs, looking up to meet her heated gaze. Gently, I parted her thighs, drinking in the sight of her.
I placed a soft kiss on her inner thigh, then another closer to her center. Jane's breathy moans filled the room as I finally tasted her, my tongue exploring her folds. Her hips rocked against my mouth as I found a rhythm, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on her most sensitive spots.
Jane cried out, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure washed over her.
Just then, the shrill ringing of the phone shattered the silence. Jane groaned with annoyance. She ignored the first ring, but the insistent caller wouldn't give up. A chill went through me. Who would be calling her at this hour?
"I should probably get that," she said reluctantly, reaching for the phone on the nightstand.
As she answered the call, her face fell. A wave of panic washed over me. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Who was it?” I asked when she hung up.
"Professor Killian ," Jane said, a slight frown creasing her brow. "He wants me to stop by the lab tonight. Something about needing help with some calculations." My stomach tightened. "Tonight?" I asked, "Can't it wait?" She shook her head. "He sounded urgent," she said, grabbing her jacket. "Don't worry, it'll be quick. I'll be back soon." I hesitated, an instinctive urge to protect her rising within me. "I'll come with you," I insisted. Jane gave me a reassuring smile. "It's okay," she said, "it's just a quick visit." But something in her eyes, a flicker of apprehension, made me uneasy.
I watched her leave, a knot of worry tightening in my chest. My gut screamed at me to follow her. I wasn't supposed to interfere, but I couldn't shake this feeling of dread. I trailed behind her, keeping a safe distance, as she made her way towards the physics building. As I approached Killian's lab, I heard raised voices, a struggle. I peered through the small window in the door and froze.
Killian had Jane cornered, his face contorted with rage and lust, his hands reaching for her. But it wasn't just the sight of him assaulting her that made my blood run cold. It was the sudden, chilling recognition that struck me like a bolt of lightning.
Aldrich Killian. The name, the face, it all came flooding back in a rush of horrifying clarity. This wasn't just some random professor; this was the man who would become the Mandarin, the bio-terrorist who would nearly bring Tony Stark and the world to its knees. I remembered the SHIELD briefings, the grainy surveillance photos, the warnings about his volatile nature and dangerous ambitions. How could I have been so blind?
Fury surged through me, a primal urge to protect Jane overriding any concerns about altering the timeline. I burst into the room, tackling Killian away from Jane with a roar of rage. He stumbled back, surprised by the sudden attack, but quickly recovered, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint.
"Who the hell are you?" he snarled, lunging at me.
We grappled, our bodies crashing against lab tables and equipment. Killian was stronger than I expected, his movements fueled by a manic energy. He landed a punch to my jaw, sending me reeling. I tasted blood, but I couldn't let him win. Jane's life depended on it.
I ducked under his next swing and countered with a kick to his gut, momentarily winding him. But he recovered quickly, grabbing me by the throat and slamming me against the wall. I gasped for air, my vision blurring. He was overpowering me, his grip tightening.
Just when I thought I was about to lose consciousness, I heard Jane's voice, clear and strong.
"Aldrich," she said, her tone laced with mock concern, "remember the cesium core! It's highly unstable! We need to recalibrate the flux capacitor, or the temporal modulator will overload!"
Killian, momentarily distracted by her words, loosened his grip on my throat. He glanced towards the experimental device, his brow furrowed in confusion. It was the opening I needed.
"Jane!" I gasped, "Reverse the polarity! Engage the chroniton particles!"
She didn't miss a beat. "Of course!" she exclaimed, rushing towards the device with feigned urgency.
Killian, completely bewildered by our seemingly nonsensical exchange, turned back to me with a snarl. But before he could regain his hold, I brought my knee up with all my might, connecting squarely with his groin. He doubled over in pain, and I followed through with a swift kick to his chest, sending him crashing backwards into the table where the device was precariously perched.
The device skittered off the edge, falling with a thud onto the concrete floor. It sputtered and sparked, the cesium core glowing an ominous red. Killian shouted, “No!” and dived for it. I grabbed Jane and pulled us through the lead-shielded lab door just in time. There was a blinding flash of energy in the lab and a wave of intense heat and radiation. Killian, caught in the full force of the blast, screamed in agony, his skin blistering and smoking. Through the window of the door we saw him stumble away, a horrifying spectacle of pain and fear, fleeing into the night.
As the chaos subsided and the lab fell silent, I looked at Jane, her eyes wide with shock. We were both shaken, but alive. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling with concern.
Jane nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "He... he tried to..." She trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes. "He's been harassing me for weeks," she confessed, her voice choked with emotion. "I was too ashamed to tell anyone. I thought... I thought if I just kept quiet, it would stop."
I held her close, my heart aching for her. I cursed myself for not seeing the signs, for not pushing harder when I sensed something was wrong. I apologized for not doing more to help her, but she just shook her head.
“But you did save me from him in the end, and from the radiation blast.” She looked down, hiding her eyes from mine, “which means I guess you accomplished your mission.”
We stood there in silence, the weight of the moment settling over us like a heavy blanket. The realization dawned on both of us simultaneously, a bittersweet understanding that didn't need to be voiced aloud. My mission was complete. I had saved Jane from the radiation exposure that would have sealed her fate. But in doing so, I had also sealed my own.
Jane's eyes met mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. Gratitude, sorrow, and a deep, aching love that threatened to shatter my resolve. I could see the unspoken question in her gaze: "Do you have to go?" And my silence was answer enough.
We made our way back to her apartment, our footsteps heavy with exhaustion and the weight of our impending separation. The night air was cool against our skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of our intertwined hands. Neither of us spoke, afraid that words would make this moment too real, too final.
As we entered her small, cozy apartment, the familiar surroundings seemed to mock us with their normalcy. The stack of textbooks on the coffee table, the half-finished mug of coffee on the counter, the throw blanket haphazardly draped over the back of the couch - all reminders of the life we had shared, however briefly.
Without discussing it, we gravitated towards the kitchen. It was late, and we were both drained, physically and emotionally. As if on autopilot, we began the familiar ritual of preparing our favorite late-night meal: instant ramen. The simple act of boiling water, tearing open packets, and stirring noodles provided a comforting routine amidst the turmoil of our emotions.
We sat at her small kitchen table, steaming bowls before us, the aroma of savory broth filling the air. The silence between us was thick with unspoken words and bittersweet memories. I watched as Jane absently twirled her noodles around her fork, her mind clearly elsewhere.
As we ate, I couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of it all. Here we were, after facing down a future supervillain and averting a catastrophic radiation event, eating cheap instant ramen as if it were just another night of studying.
I broke the silence with a small laugh, shaking my head. "Chroniton particles," my voice tinged with amusement. "I can't believe he fell for it."
Jane's eyes lit up, a smile spreading across her face. "And the flux capacitor," she added, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I thought for sure he'd catch on with that one."
We dissolved into giggles, the absurdity of our improvised technobabble hitting us all at once.
As our laughter subsided, Jane's expression softened. She reached across the table, her hand gently covering mine. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."
I nodded, unable to find the right words to express the tumult of emotions swirling within me. Jane stood up suddenly, her chair scraping against the linoleum floor. "Stay right there," she said, a hint of determination in her voice. Before I could respond, she rushed off, disappearing down the hallway.
I heard the bathroom door close, followed by the sound of running water. She was showering, I realized. I made my way to the living room, sinking into the familiar comfort of her worn couch. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet apartment, each second a stark reminder of the time slipping away from us.
As I sat there, surrounded by the remnants of the life we'd shared these past weeks, I found myself entertaining a dangerous thought. What if I didn't go back? What if I stayed here, in this time, with Jane? We could build a life together, I mused. I could use my knowledge of the future to help her in her career, to protect her from the dangers I knew lay ahead. We could be happy.
The fantasy was intoxicating, seductive in its simplicity. I could almost see it: waking up next to Jane every morning, sharing coffee and discussions about the cosmos, building a future together. No more loneliness, no more emptiness. Just us, facing the world side by side.
I must have drifted off, exhausted from the day's events. My dreams were a hazy blend of past and present - Jane's smile, Thor's warning, the flash of the explosion. Suddenly, I felt a gentle pressure on my lips, warm and soft. Still half-asleep, I returned the kiss instinctively, my body responding before my mind fully awakened.
As consciousness slowly returned, I opened my eyes to find Jane before me, bathed in moonlight streaming through the window. She was completely naked, her skin glowing with an ethereal beauty that took my breath away. Her eyes met mine, filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination.
"Let's not waste our last night together," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.
Before I could respond, she sank to her knees in front of me. With trembling hands, she reached for my pants, slowly undoing the button and zipper. I watched, mesmerized, as she gently freed me from the confines of my clothing. Her fingers were soft as they caressed me, sending shivers of pleasure through my body.
Jane looked up at me, her eyes dark with desire. Then, without breaking eye contact, she lowered her head and took me into her mouth. I gasped at the sensation, overwhelmed by the warmth and wetness. She set a languid pace, alternating between long, slow licks and gentle suction. My hands tangled in her hair as waves of pleasure washed over me.
I knew I should stop this, that we were only making our inevitable parting more painful. But in that moment, lost in the sensations Jane was creating, I couldn't bring myself to care about anything beyond this room, this woman, this perfect, stolen moment in time.
Just as I felt myself approaching the edge, Jane suddenly stopped. She looked up at me, her eyes dark with desire, and slowly rose to her feet. Taking my hand, she led me wordlessly to the bedroom. The moonlight streaming through the window bathed her naked form in an ethereal glow as she lay back on the bed, pulling me down with her.
I positioned myself above her, our bodies perfectly aligned. Jane's legs parted, welcoming me. Slowly, reverently, I eased myself into her warm depths. We both gasped at the exquisite sensation of our bodies joining. I paused, savoring the feeling of completeness. Jane's hands caressed my back, urging me on.
I began to move, setting a languid pace. Each thrust was slow and deliberate, drawing out every sensation. Jane's hips rose to meet mine, our bodies finding a perfect rhythm together. I gazed into her eyes, seeing my own passion and longing reflected there.
Our lovemaking was tender yet intense, each touch charged with the bittersweet knowledge that this was our first and last time together. I memorized every detail - the softness of her skin, the quiet sighs of pleasure, the way her body trembled beneath mine.
After a while, Jane gently pushed against my chest. Understanding her unspoken request, I withdrew and helped her turn over. She positioned herself on her hands and knees, looking back at me over her shoulder with a mixture of shyness and invitation.
I entered her again, groaning at the new angle of sensation. My hands gripped her hips as I began to move, our pace quickening. Jane pressed back against me, taking me deeper with each thrust. The room filled with the sounds of our passion - skin against skin, breathless moans, whispered endearments.
As our passion intensified, I felt Jane's body trembling beneath me. Her soft moans grew louder, spurring me on. I leaned forward, pressing my chest against her back, my lips finding the sensitive spot on her neck. She shivered at the contact, turning her head to capture my mouth in a searing kiss.
Suddenly, Jane pushed back against me, bringing us both to a sitting position. I lay back on the bed and she straddled me, lowering herself onto my length with a soft sigh. I gazed up at her in awe - she looked like a goddess in the light, her skin glowing and her hair wild around her shoulders.
Jane began to move, setting a sensual pace. She placed her hands on my chest for leverage as she rolled her hips. I met her movements, thrusting up to match her rhythm. Our eyes locked, conveying without words the depth of emotion between us.
My hands roamed her body, caressing the soft curves of her waist, the swell of her breasts. Jane leaned in, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. Our tongues danced as she increased her pace, riding me hard. I could feel her inner muscles clenching around me, bringing me closer to the edge.
We moved together as one, lost in the intensity of our connection. Jane's fingers tangled in my hair as she pressed her forehead to mine. Our eyes locked, and in that moment, I saw everything - her passion, her vulnerability, her love. It was almost too much to bear.
As Jane's movements became more frantic, I knew she was close. I slipped a hand between our bodies, my fingers finding her most sensitive spot. She cried out at the added stimulation, her rhythm faltering. I held her close, whispering words of encouragement.
With a final cry of ecstasy, Jane shattered in my arms. The pulsing of her inner walls pushed me over the edge, and I followed her into blissful oblivion. We clung to each other as the waves of pleasure washed over us.
We collapsed onto the bed, still joined, our bodies trembling in the aftermath. As our breathing slowly returned to normal, I gently withdrew and gathered Jane into my arms. She nestled against my chest, and I held her tightly, wishing I never had to let go.
Tears pricked my eyes as the full weight of the moment settled over me. This perfect union, this connection we'd found - it was everything I'd ever wanted. And tomorrow, I would have to give it up forever. Jane must have sensed my anguish, for she lifted her head and kissed me softly.
"Let's not think about tomorrow," she whispered. "Just hold me. Be here with me now."
As Jane slept peacefully in my arms, I knew my time was up. With a heavy heart, I penned a long letter, pouring out my soul, confessing my love, and finally revealing my true name. I left it on her bedside table, a silent farewell to the woman who had stolen my heart.
Back in the Present
The familiar surge of energy pulled me back through time, but instead of my dingy apartment, I found myself in a warm, sunlit living room. A teenage girl, her face a mirror of Jane's, rushed past, planting a kiss on my cheek. "Thanks, Dad! Love you!" she chirped, grabbing a set of car keys from the coffee table.
Before I could process what was happening, Jane walked in, wearing glasses and her arms laden with research papers. She barely glanced up as she approached, her lips finding mine in a familiar, loving kiss. "Hey, dear," she murmured, her voice filled with warmth. Pictures on the walls showcased a happy family – Jane, me, and our two children.
Suddenly, she stopped, her brow furrowing as she checked the date on a nearby calendar. "Wait a minute," she said, turning to me, her eyes widening with realization.
"You're back, aren't you?"
"Jane," I stammered, my voice thick with emotion, "what... what happened?"
A soft smile spread across her face. "You never should have left your name," she said, her voice filled with a gentle reprimand. "I found you. And I married you. And it's been... well, it's been beautiful."
She paused, a playful glint in her eyes. "And you know, you were right," she added. "I did find someone my own age."
My heart soared.
Against all odds, despite the temporal anomalies and the risks to the timeline, we had found our way back to each other. But just as the wave of joy washed over me, a familiar rumble echoed in the distance.
"Oh boy," I muttered, a grin spreading across my face. Thor was coming. And I had a feeling he wasn't just here for a friendly visit.
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