Thor (movie-verse) "Libations of Defeat" Loki/Darcy | rated R
Fandom: Thor (movie-verse)
Title: Libations of Defeat [1/1]
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Loki/Darcy, mention of Thor
Rating: R
Genre: Romance/Dramedy
Word Count: 3,819
Warnings: sexual content
Notes: Takes place in a supposed future setting after the movie. Done for the "tremble" prompt for Table 2 for the Summer Mini Challenge. Table can be found here.
Summary: After Loki's defeat, Thor sends Darcy to his brother with a peace offering.
Loki could still taste his bitter defeat on his tongue. He licked his lips, craving water, craving wine. He wouldn’t get it. Thor had already given him mercy; it’d be selfish to ask for anything else. The Avengers had beaten him, his brother had shamed him, and not even a mortal would take pity on him now.
Or so he thought.
He might be bleeding. He could smell blood, but the battle was too fresh to tell if it was his, and he couldn’t distinguish the pain of his pride from his wounds right now. If he was set to die, Loki wondered if he really minded it.
At first, Loki didn’t remember where he was, but he took a whiff of the air to realize he was still in New Mexico, where his brother first met Jane Foster, and where the gateway to Bifröst opened from Asgard. Fitting he should die here if he did.
His magic was almost spent, used up mostly as a cocky offense against the Mighty Avengers rather than a shield to save his skin; though, Loki knew this now. The admonishing voice in his head didn’t need to remind him.
It was cold out here, and it reminded him of his lineage, and when Loki sighed, he could see his breath fade into the wind. What a failure he was. His father would never be proud. Perhaps that dream was too far gone, and perhaps Ragnarok was the only real ending he deserved.
Loki’s body tensed as he heard footsteps in the sand coming toward him; they sounded light and non-threatening and he relaxed, knowing that the bearer of these steps could not harm him. He craned his neck, feeling the sand sift under his skull. His eyes met...a mortal woman?
“Yo,” she said, and his gaze swept up her bare legs, hardly covered by rolled up shorts, and then over her baggy moss green sweater and up into her pale nonchalant face. She was holding out a bottle of red wine, and his mouth watered as he smelled it. “I’m Darcy. Thor sent me.”
“I know who you are,” he snapped at her, and he watched her like wounded dog after she mentioned Thor. It was one of Thor’s human friends, one he tried to kill. He stared at her as she plopped down next to him without fear or care in the world. How charming.
“Cool. Whatever,” she said, looking away. She handed him the wine. “You want it or not? I could drink it by myself, while you watch me.”
He grabbed for it but she managed to pull it back before he could touch it. He felt like seething at her audacity but instead she intrigued him. He maneuvered on his side toward her, propping himself on his elbow. “Well, Darcy, what is it that you want from me?”
She shrugged instantly. She didn’t even know? Loki inwardly scoffed.
“Well, to be perfectly honest, Thor wanted you to have this as a peace offering, and I was the only one in the group who volunteered,” Darcy said. “Happy?”
“What?” Now, he was seething. Not toward her, but that all those mortals would snub him like that, or that Thor himself didn’t even want to bother with him. He supposed it was just as well. Thor didn’t need to give him anything at all, and wine was a lot better than death.
“I could have lied to you,” she said, pulling out her phone after it beeped. Loki watched as she read her phone message, chuckled lightly, and then put it away. He almost had enough of this. He held out his hand.
“Give me the wine and get going, mortal,” he sneered at her.
Darcy laughed. This woman actually laughed at him! “Not so fast. I owe Thor a favor, okay? I’m supposed to stay with you.” Darcy grinned at him, and she dug into the huge front pocket of her sweater. “Besides, I have a backup plan,” she said confidently, showing him a weapon that Loki had come to know as a taser. He frowned. As if a weapon like that would hurt him; though, in this weakened state he wasn’t so sure.
“Fair enough. So tell me - when will I be free of your delightful company, Darcy Lewis?” Loki drawled at her.
She watched his face intently, her brow crunching as if she tried to figure him out. Good luck with that, little girl.
“Until the wine is empty?” she said, swinging the bottle teasingly in front of his face. “You don’t happen to have a corkscrew, do you?”
Loki bit his lip, furious. Her eyes seemed to light up at his reaction. “It’s a good thing I do!”
“Are you mentally damaged, mortal?” Loki asked her rudely.
“Ha, that’s not the first time some one's asked me that. Okay, truth,” she said, pointing her finger at him. “I was already kind of tipsy when I got here.”
“You’re...intoxicated?” Loki said flatly. He should have expected it.
“Bingo.” She winked at him. “I couldn’t help it. I mean, you’re the God of Mischief, kind of a bad guy, okay, sorry, more than kind of, and I had to come out here all by myself with only a taser? You can imagine the pressure, right? So I had a couple of shots of special Tequila from Mexico with Erik and Tony, and Wow, Magic! I have instant confidence.” Loki stared at her, incredulous. “And now, I can’t seem to get up.”
“Give me the wine,” he said petulantly, and she lobbed it shakily over to him. “I take it you didn’t bring glasses.”
“Nope,” she said crudely. “You’re just going to have to share spit with me, oh God of Mischief.”
“I’ve done worse,” Loki said, foregoing her corkscrew and opening the bottle with what little magic he had left. He took the first long swig, and he stared at her as he held onto the bottle possessively.
“Damn, dude! I should have brought two bottles,” Darcy said proudly.
“I have a feeling you won’t need much more than I will, mortal,” Loki said, drinking again.
“Seriously? Stop with the mortal thing. It’s Darcy, or Dar, or Ms. Darcy if you’re nasty,” she said, guffawing at her own joke, a joke that Loki didn’t get apparently.
“Just like a human. Can’t take her liquor well,” Loki mocked her.
“Heyyy,” she said, drawing out the word in a slur. “You’re not so tough. I bet Volstagg could drink you under a gilded table.”
“Indeed,” Loki said, taking another drink. “So...why do you owe my brother this favor? Hrmm? You never did indulge me.”
Darcy turned to him on her side, so close Loki could feel her warm breath - and, he could see down her loose fitting sweater. There was nothing underneath it. Well, he thought, not nothing.
“He got me a job basically. Well, he let me write an article on him, which wasn’t like I twisted his arm or anything, but he had to convince S.H.I.E.L.D that I could do it, and after I wrote it, I got like a ton of job offers. Now I work for The Daily Beast as their most popular blogger. Who knew being friends with an Avenger could get you a job just like that? So I owe him for it, and I told him that I owed him, but I never thought owing a debt to a guy like him would be such a problem.”
Loki turned away silently, sipping on more wine. He gazed into the dark New Mexico sky and saw it littered with winking stars. They made him feel homesick. His tone dropped and he said, “You have no idea how true those words are, Darcy.”
“Hey, you said my name, finally,” she said, poking him playfully. Usually, he would protest someone touching his person like that, but he found no threat in Darcy. She was just an unimportant mortal, and slowly, she was becoming somewhat intriguing to him, because she was right. No one else on this world cared enough about his existence now.
Well, he did try to destroy it, and Darcy was doing this out of a favor. Still, she didn’t seem to mind being with him too much.
“Loki,” she said, bringing him back from his thoughts. It felt odd hearing his name on her tongue. He rather liked it. He turned to her, and she had a dazed expression.
“You’re hogging all the wine,” she whined, holding out her grabby hands. He held it back from her.
“But this is my wine, Darcy,” he said, shifting closer to her in the sand but still keeping the bottle from her reach.
“You suck at sharing,” she said with a pout, and he smirked at her.
“So I’ve been told,” he said, leaning close to her cheek.
“I bet it comes natural to you,” she joked, but he could hear the hitch in her breathing. For as inebriated as she was, she still shivered under his close regard. What the hell, Loki thought. My plans were foiled, my brother shamed me, and the whole of Midgard and Asgard wants to bind me with my entrails. When is the next time I’ll feel the touch of a woman?
“Hey, what...” Darcy stammered, and he quickly shushed her. He led her down into the sand, and as he hovered over her, he took another swig of wine before capturing her trembling lips in a hungry kiss. Surprisingly, Darcy kissed him back, fervently in fact, and he felt her arms flail about before they snaked comfortably around his shoulders, drawing him close. He broke their kiss, staring at her swollen lips.
“Hey, I’m pretty sure Thor did not intend this,” she whispered breathlessly at him. He leaned down and pressed biting kisses on her jaw.
“Then make me stop. Push me away,” he said, but he had no intention of letting her go.
“Please, you have got to be kidding. You know how long it’s been for me? I’m not stopping because you look all, well...okay,” she said, trying to gather her fumbling words. “You’re like a horrible influence on my incurable addiction to brooding bad-asses. Gets me every time,” she murmured. “Drives a motorcycle, has a tattoo of a coyote or something on his neck, and teaches me how to taser a guy’s balls off...” She sighs with a far off expression. “Then two months and an episode of COPS later, he’s in the joint, finding Jesus and bunking with some guy nicknamed Binky. A tragic fairytale ending if you ask me.”
“I’m not quite sure what you just said,” Loki said, looking down at her with amusement. “However, if that means you’re going to stay...”
“And drink some of your wine...”
“We’ll see about that,” he said, setting the bottle in the sand and covering Darcy. As he moved over her, Loki realized that his wounds were finally healing, that the ache and pain were not as bad, but more importantly, his lack of magic and his injuries meant nothing as long as he held Darcy.
She moaned as he drew her in for another kiss. His hands slid over her, and he was becoming wildly impatient with her damn sweater. He could feel her fingers, meekly and cautiously fumbling at his own clothes.
“Well,” he said breaking off, “this is a problem.” He grabbed her sweater and pulled it roughly over her head, and soon they were in a war against each other on who could rip the other’s clothes off in the most violent and hurried ways.
The cool desert air nipped at Darcy’s fragile skin almost immediately, and she shivered until Loki covered her. “Fear not, mortal, I will keep you warm,” he whispered, and she seemed to melt to his words. His long slender hands roamed her body, tracing every exposed angle and curve. He stopped at her thighs, pulling her legs open as she arched against him. Instantly, she wrapped herself around him, feeling her heat as he lurched closer. His lips made a trail from her mouth, down her neck and to the dip between her breasts. Loki paused, looked at them, admiring their large size even in the dark night. He could see them clearly, his hands already seizing them as he covered them with his lips. “Lovely,” he whispered against her skin as the nipples pebbled against his teeth. He delighted in Darcy’s little noises - each touch, each stroke - each bite. He treated the next one, feeling the heat building between them, finding his own restlessness building with hers.
“Now, now,” he scolded, trying to calm her down. There was plenty of time, and he wanted to enjoy his reward. No, his brother may have not intended to give him Darcy like this, but he would take her. When the rest of the world wasn’t his to possess, he would have her - so willing, so ready to be claimed.
He felt her hands, finding some courage and dipping below to stroke his length. He tensed when she grabbed him, hardening in her hands. She giggled in his ear, a fairy’s giggle, as intoxicating as the wine itself. He leaned against her, still adoring her breasts as she slid her soft, able fingers up and down him.
“You’re so good,” she whispered close to his ear, nibbling on the shell. He felt her smile against him, and her body becoming pliant and soft within his arms.
In a burst of energy, Loki grabbed her against him, shifting and twirling them so she was sitting in his lap, rubbing against his eager cock. He could have no more of this - this stupid waiting. Darcy rubbed wantonly against him, and he moaned as she found his lips again, her hands weaving through his hair. Shifting his weight, he dipped his fingers below, finding the hot and ready nexus between her legs. Sliding a couple fingers inside, she almost bit him in surprise within their kiss. She pulled away from his mouth, crying as he pumped inside her. She leaned away, arching her back, and he kissed her breasts as he felt a ripple of pleasure surge through her. Oh, but he could tell - Darcy wasn’t done yet.
Shifting them again, he looked into her face, flushed and beyond reason, but not from the alcohol, which had more than faded away. No, she was dazed yet eager for the rest of him. He would give it to her, not because he was a gentleman, but because she was his prize.
His only prize. If only he could thank his brother now, Loki surely would.
The tip of him moved around, teasing her and seeking out heat. When he found her, he heard a heavy intake of breath before he fully slid inside, feeling her muscles tighten around him. On instinct, they both began to move, and she was more than ready; she was fast, rolling her hips over him, letting him fill her as much as he could.
They moved together, finding a common rhythm, but never coming too fast. Loki would slow her, and she would whine against him, her hips grinding, pleading for more. But he didn’t want this to end; if anything, he wanted her more. Not just for this night, but many nights - in the future, when he was lost, wounded, Darcy Lewis could comfort him. Darcy would accept him when the world only saw him as evil, as nothing.
He felt her tense, sighing with pleasure as her body jerked around him and became boneless in his arms. She leaned against his chest as he continued to push into her, and once in a while, she had a second or third wind, moving as he continued. He rolled them onto the ground, pulling her under him as her legs kicked high, and he pushed into her again, pistoning so deep within her until his true pleasure was met.
Perhaps true pleasure was something he’d have to work on, but at least for tonight, Darcy brought him this close.
He released a sigh, spilling into her before he turned over onto his back to look up at the stars. Darcy crawled over to him, resting onto his chest. He sensed her smile, and felt her lovely large breasts brushing against his ribs.
“Hrmm, we were just supposed to drink wine,” she teased, and Loki grinned at her, finding the bottle and showing her its empty contents. Her mouth dropped in mock offense.
“I told you, Darcy, the wine was mine,” he said amused. He sat up but turned to her as they rested over their discarded clothes. “So tell me, on Midgard, what do they call it when a woman brings a man wine but ends up giving him so much more?”
Darcy arched an eyebrow, knowing he was trying to trick her. He met her coy, toothy grin. “Simple, oh God of Mischief. It’s called...” She leaned in and nipped his bottom lip. “A party.”
“I was afraid it was called something far more vulgar.”
“I bet you did,” she said. “I wonder...am I going to hate myself in the morning?”
“Most likely you will try to convince yourself of it,” he said, drawing her next to him. She felt his lips on her breasts again before he pulled away to meet her gaze. His hands, however, remained on them with vigorous fascination. “However, I assure you, you will not regret this night...” He leaned next to her ear, and she shivered. “Ever.”
Darcy grinned. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” When she met his eyes, Loki could see her trying to figure him out again. She reached out, touching his cheek and putting a stray tendril of his hair behind his ear. “I can’t believe what they say about you...” Her words trailed off as Loki’s smile thinned. “But I can see why Thor still cares about you.”
Loki sat up, bending over her and feeling the fury and anger simmer within his bones. When he looked at Darcy though, he felt no hatred or malice. He ran a finger through her hair and whispered, “None of that matters anymore,” he said. “My brother has given you to a defeated man.”
Darcy shook her head, and her words deadpanned. “You look fine to me - better than fine, a few minutes ago.”
Loki’s smirk returned. “Now that the wine is all gone, will you leave?”
She released a heavy breath as his lips hovered over hers. “I don’t need any wine,” she said, locking with his malachite eyes. “Do you?”
Slowly, smoothly, he covered himself over her again, shifting his limbs around hers, finding her, and discovering their rhythm as if it had been born a second life. Night still loomed over them, with Loki’s back to the cold and vast sea of stars. Feminine warmth shifted underneath him like a tide, moving, worshipping, and in the fresh sky, morning was peeking at them over the horizon - reminding them of their last precious minutes together that fused into a brand new day.
.xxxxx.
A few days later, Loki found Darcy unpacking in her new apartment close to her job at The Daily Beast. It wasn’t difficult for him to find her. He had slipped back into his dimensional hiding places to heal for the duration, but Darcy was never far from his frenetic thoughts. Though, Darcy was the only thing about his thoughts that didn’t have a scheme to it. He just didn’t know what to do with her, but he knew that her effect on him wasn’t just going to disappear.
He appeared when she was putting her copious books on her new bookshelf. His voice startled her, and he watched her dodge a very large textbook as it tumbled to the floor.
“With the favor you owed Thor, I was hoping you’d be rewarded a much better living arrangement,” he said, and she cried in shock. She spun around and saw him leaning smugly against the door frame of her living room. She rolled her eyes.
“Gees, don’t do that!” she said, clutching her heart. She wrinkled her nose. “And another thing, do you know how much rent costs in this city?” She marched toward him, her hands on her hips. “Give me an interview and I may be able to afford another place.”
“No one wants my side of the story, Darcy,” he said brusquely.
Darcy smiled. “You’d be surprised.”
“Not now,” he said; his tone slightly harsh and he saw Darcy’s face fill with worry.
“Ruh-roh, in trouble again?” she asked lightheartedly.
“I am the God of Mischief,” he droned sardonically.
“Well, if you need some place to squat...”
“No...Well, not for long,” he said, and he began idly playing with the spines of her books as he approached her. He met her inquisitive eyes. “For tonight however...”
Darcy titled her head and smiled. “Cool, I’ll call for pizza.”
He grabbed her hand, jerking her close to him. “I’m not interested, not in that.”
“So...this is a booty call?” Darcy asked bluntly, and Loki understood the context, though he still found some of Darcy’s language to be a bit uncouth.
“I suppose you already know, I have a lot of annoying superhero types looking for me, so I’m warning you if you decide to help me,” he said, pulling her flush against him and playing with her hair. She didn’t even tense in his embrace, just leaned her head against his chest.
“I know,” she said.
“No, you don’t,” he replied firmly. She wrapped her arms around his torso and looked up at his grim expression. Her eyes, bright and unwavering, seemed to be laughing at him.
“If you don’t want pizza, then how about wine? I have two bottles this time,” she offered, and Loki sighed.
“You’re really not taking this seriously, are you?” he said languidly, and after a loud “Nope” she was already pulling at his clothes, swearing that his “Batman costume” was getting in the way.
“You’re stupid, mortal, do you know that?” he sneered at her, and Darcy shot a look at the taser on her kitchen counter, next to the wine, and his eyes automatically followed hers.
“What was that about calling me stupid?” Darcy asked, as she pulled away his pants not so tenderly. Loki frowned, shaking his head, holding back a smirk for theatricality.
“I thought so,” she said, removing her own shirt, for his hands could never resist her breasts. She laughed as he touched them, and she drew him back to the counter, capturing his mouth in a long overdue kiss. She pulled away and grinned saucily. “Now, how about that wine?”
He smirked, and not even Loki, the God of Mischief, could ever refuse her.
END
Title: Libations of Defeat [1/1]
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Loki/Darcy, mention of Thor
Rating: R
Genre: Romance/Dramedy
Word Count: 3,819
Warnings: sexual content
Notes: Takes place in a supposed future setting after the movie. Done for the "tremble" prompt for Table 2 for the Summer Mini Challenge. Table can be found here.
Summary: After Loki's defeat, Thor sends Darcy to his brother with a peace offering.
Loki could still taste his bitter defeat on his tongue. He licked his lips, craving water, craving wine. He wouldn’t get it. Thor had already given him mercy; it’d be selfish to ask for anything else. The Avengers had beaten him, his brother had shamed him, and not even a mortal would take pity on him now.
Or so he thought.
He might be bleeding. He could smell blood, but the battle was too fresh to tell if it was his, and he couldn’t distinguish the pain of his pride from his wounds right now. If he was set to die, Loki wondered if he really minded it.
At first, Loki didn’t remember where he was, but he took a whiff of the air to realize he was still in New Mexico, where his brother first met Jane Foster, and where the gateway to Bifröst opened from Asgard. Fitting he should die here if he did.
His magic was almost spent, used up mostly as a cocky offense against the Mighty Avengers rather than a shield to save his skin; though, Loki knew this now. The admonishing voice in his head didn’t need to remind him.
It was cold out here, and it reminded him of his lineage, and when Loki sighed, he could see his breath fade into the wind. What a failure he was. His father would never be proud. Perhaps that dream was too far gone, and perhaps Ragnarok was the only real ending he deserved.
Loki’s body tensed as he heard footsteps in the sand coming toward him; they sounded light and non-threatening and he relaxed, knowing that the bearer of these steps could not harm him. He craned his neck, feeling the sand sift under his skull. His eyes met...a mortal woman?
“Yo,” she said, and his gaze swept up her bare legs, hardly covered by rolled up shorts, and then over her baggy moss green sweater and up into her pale nonchalant face. She was holding out a bottle of red wine, and his mouth watered as he smelled it. “I’m Darcy. Thor sent me.”
“I know who you are,” he snapped at her, and he watched her like wounded dog after she mentioned Thor. It was one of Thor’s human friends, one he tried to kill. He stared at her as she plopped down next to him without fear or care in the world. How charming.
“Cool. Whatever,” she said, looking away. She handed him the wine. “You want it or not? I could drink it by myself, while you watch me.”
He grabbed for it but she managed to pull it back before he could touch it. He felt like seething at her audacity but instead she intrigued him. He maneuvered on his side toward her, propping himself on his elbow. “Well, Darcy, what is it that you want from me?”
She shrugged instantly. She didn’t even know? Loki inwardly scoffed.
“Well, to be perfectly honest, Thor wanted you to have this as a peace offering, and I was the only one in the group who volunteered,” Darcy said. “Happy?”
“What?” Now, he was seething. Not toward her, but that all those mortals would snub him like that, or that Thor himself didn’t even want to bother with him. He supposed it was just as well. Thor didn’t need to give him anything at all, and wine was a lot better than death.
“I could have lied to you,” she said, pulling out her phone after it beeped. Loki watched as she read her phone message, chuckled lightly, and then put it away. He almost had enough of this. He held out his hand.
“Give me the wine and get going, mortal,” he sneered at her.
Darcy laughed. This woman actually laughed at him! “Not so fast. I owe Thor a favor, okay? I’m supposed to stay with you.” Darcy grinned at him, and she dug into the huge front pocket of her sweater. “Besides, I have a backup plan,” she said confidently, showing him a weapon that Loki had come to know as a taser. He frowned. As if a weapon like that would hurt him; though, in this weakened state he wasn’t so sure.
“Fair enough. So tell me - when will I be free of your delightful company, Darcy Lewis?” Loki drawled at her.
She watched his face intently, her brow crunching as if she tried to figure him out. Good luck with that, little girl.
“Until the wine is empty?” she said, swinging the bottle teasingly in front of his face. “You don’t happen to have a corkscrew, do you?”
Loki bit his lip, furious. Her eyes seemed to light up at his reaction. “It’s a good thing I do!”
“Are you mentally damaged, mortal?” Loki asked her rudely.
“Ha, that’s not the first time some one's asked me that. Okay, truth,” she said, pointing her finger at him. “I was already kind of tipsy when I got here.”
“You’re...intoxicated?” Loki said flatly. He should have expected it.
“Bingo.” She winked at him. “I couldn’t help it. I mean, you’re the God of Mischief, kind of a bad guy, okay, sorry, more than kind of, and I had to come out here all by myself with only a taser? You can imagine the pressure, right? So I had a couple of shots of special Tequila from Mexico with Erik and Tony, and Wow, Magic! I have instant confidence.” Loki stared at her, incredulous. “And now, I can’t seem to get up.”
“Give me the wine,” he said petulantly, and she lobbed it shakily over to him. “I take it you didn’t bring glasses.”
“Nope,” she said crudely. “You’re just going to have to share spit with me, oh God of Mischief.”
“I’ve done worse,” Loki said, foregoing her corkscrew and opening the bottle with what little magic he had left. He took the first long swig, and he stared at her as he held onto the bottle possessively.
“Damn, dude! I should have brought two bottles,” Darcy said proudly.
“I have a feeling you won’t need much more than I will, mortal,” Loki said, drinking again.
“Seriously? Stop with the mortal thing. It’s Darcy, or Dar, or Ms. Darcy if you’re nasty,” she said, guffawing at her own joke, a joke that Loki didn’t get apparently.
“Just like a human. Can’t take her liquor well,” Loki mocked her.
“Heyyy,” she said, drawing out the word in a slur. “You’re not so tough. I bet Volstagg could drink you under a gilded table.”
“Indeed,” Loki said, taking another drink. “So...why do you owe my brother this favor? Hrmm? You never did indulge me.”
Darcy turned to him on her side, so close Loki could feel her warm breath - and, he could see down her loose fitting sweater. There was nothing underneath it. Well, he thought, not nothing.
“He got me a job basically. Well, he let me write an article on him, which wasn’t like I twisted his arm or anything, but he had to convince S.H.I.E.L.D that I could do it, and after I wrote it, I got like a ton of job offers. Now I work for The Daily Beast as their most popular blogger. Who knew being friends with an Avenger could get you a job just like that? So I owe him for it, and I told him that I owed him, but I never thought owing a debt to a guy like him would be such a problem.”
Loki turned away silently, sipping on more wine. He gazed into the dark New Mexico sky and saw it littered with winking stars. They made him feel homesick. His tone dropped and he said, “You have no idea how true those words are, Darcy.”
“Hey, you said my name, finally,” she said, poking him playfully. Usually, he would protest someone touching his person like that, but he found no threat in Darcy. She was just an unimportant mortal, and slowly, she was becoming somewhat intriguing to him, because she was right. No one else on this world cared enough about his existence now.
Well, he did try to destroy it, and Darcy was doing this out of a favor. Still, she didn’t seem to mind being with him too much.
“Loki,” she said, bringing him back from his thoughts. It felt odd hearing his name on her tongue. He rather liked it. He turned to her, and she had a dazed expression.
“You’re hogging all the wine,” she whined, holding out her grabby hands. He held it back from her.
“But this is my wine, Darcy,” he said, shifting closer to her in the sand but still keeping the bottle from her reach.
“You suck at sharing,” she said with a pout, and he smirked at her.
“So I’ve been told,” he said, leaning close to her cheek.
“I bet it comes natural to you,” she joked, but he could hear the hitch in her breathing. For as inebriated as she was, she still shivered under his close regard. What the hell, Loki thought. My plans were foiled, my brother shamed me, and the whole of Midgard and Asgard wants to bind me with my entrails. When is the next time I’ll feel the touch of a woman?
“Hey, what...” Darcy stammered, and he quickly shushed her. He led her down into the sand, and as he hovered over her, he took another swig of wine before capturing her trembling lips in a hungry kiss. Surprisingly, Darcy kissed him back, fervently in fact, and he felt her arms flail about before they snaked comfortably around his shoulders, drawing him close. He broke their kiss, staring at her swollen lips.
“Hey, I’m pretty sure Thor did not intend this,” she whispered breathlessly at him. He leaned down and pressed biting kisses on her jaw.
“Then make me stop. Push me away,” he said, but he had no intention of letting her go.
“Please, you have got to be kidding. You know how long it’s been for me? I’m not stopping because you look all, well...okay,” she said, trying to gather her fumbling words. “You’re like a horrible influence on my incurable addiction to brooding bad-asses. Gets me every time,” she murmured. “Drives a motorcycle, has a tattoo of a coyote or something on his neck, and teaches me how to taser a guy’s balls off...” She sighs with a far off expression. “Then two months and an episode of COPS later, he’s in the joint, finding Jesus and bunking with some guy nicknamed Binky. A tragic fairytale ending if you ask me.”
“I’m not quite sure what you just said,” Loki said, looking down at her with amusement. “However, if that means you’re going to stay...”
“And drink some of your wine...”
“We’ll see about that,” he said, setting the bottle in the sand and covering Darcy. As he moved over her, Loki realized that his wounds were finally healing, that the ache and pain were not as bad, but more importantly, his lack of magic and his injuries meant nothing as long as he held Darcy.
She moaned as he drew her in for another kiss. His hands slid over her, and he was becoming wildly impatient with her damn sweater. He could feel her fingers, meekly and cautiously fumbling at his own clothes.
“Well,” he said breaking off, “this is a problem.” He grabbed her sweater and pulled it roughly over her head, and soon they were in a war against each other on who could rip the other’s clothes off in the most violent and hurried ways.
The cool desert air nipped at Darcy’s fragile skin almost immediately, and she shivered until Loki covered her. “Fear not, mortal, I will keep you warm,” he whispered, and she seemed to melt to his words. His long slender hands roamed her body, tracing every exposed angle and curve. He stopped at her thighs, pulling her legs open as she arched against him. Instantly, she wrapped herself around him, feeling her heat as he lurched closer. His lips made a trail from her mouth, down her neck and to the dip between her breasts. Loki paused, looked at them, admiring their large size even in the dark night. He could see them clearly, his hands already seizing them as he covered them with his lips. “Lovely,” he whispered against her skin as the nipples pebbled against his teeth. He delighted in Darcy’s little noises - each touch, each stroke - each bite. He treated the next one, feeling the heat building between them, finding his own restlessness building with hers.
“Now, now,” he scolded, trying to calm her down. There was plenty of time, and he wanted to enjoy his reward. No, his brother may have not intended to give him Darcy like this, but he would take her. When the rest of the world wasn’t his to possess, he would have her - so willing, so ready to be claimed.
He felt her hands, finding some courage and dipping below to stroke his length. He tensed when she grabbed him, hardening in her hands. She giggled in his ear, a fairy’s giggle, as intoxicating as the wine itself. He leaned against her, still adoring her breasts as she slid her soft, able fingers up and down him.
“You’re so good,” she whispered close to his ear, nibbling on the shell. He felt her smile against him, and her body becoming pliant and soft within his arms.
In a burst of energy, Loki grabbed her against him, shifting and twirling them so she was sitting in his lap, rubbing against his eager cock. He could have no more of this - this stupid waiting. Darcy rubbed wantonly against him, and he moaned as she found his lips again, her hands weaving through his hair. Shifting his weight, he dipped his fingers below, finding the hot and ready nexus between her legs. Sliding a couple fingers inside, she almost bit him in surprise within their kiss. She pulled away from his mouth, crying as he pumped inside her. She leaned away, arching her back, and he kissed her breasts as he felt a ripple of pleasure surge through her. Oh, but he could tell - Darcy wasn’t done yet.
Shifting them again, he looked into her face, flushed and beyond reason, but not from the alcohol, which had more than faded away. No, she was dazed yet eager for the rest of him. He would give it to her, not because he was a gentleman, but because she was his prize.
His only prize. If only he could thank his brother now, Loki surely would.
The tip of him moved around, teasing her and seeking out heat. When he found her, he heard a heavy intake of breath before he fully slid inside, feeling her muscles tighten around him. On instinct, they both began to move, and she was more than ready; she was fast, rolling her hips over him, letting him fill her as much as he could.
They moved together, finding a common rhythm, but never coming too fast. Loki would slow her, and she would whine against him, her hips grinding, pleading for more. But he didn’t want this to end; if anything, he wanted her more. Not just for this night, but many nights - in the future, when he was lost, wounded, Darcy Lewis could comfort him. Darcy would accept him when the world only saw him as evil, as nothing.
He felt her tense, sighing with pleasure as her body jerked around him and became boneless in his arms. She leaned against his chest as he continued to push into her, and once in a while, she had a second or third wind, moving as he continued. He rolled them onto the ground, pulling her under him as her legs kicked high, and he pushed into her again, pistoning so deep within her until his true pleasure was met.
Perhaps true pleasure was something he’d have to work on, but at least for tonight, Darcy brought him this close.
He released a sigh, spilling into her before he turned over onto his back to look up at the stars. Darcy crawled over to him, resting onto his chest. He sensed her smile, and felt her lovely large breasts brushing against his ribs.
“Hrmm, we were just supposed to drink wine,” she teased, and Loki grinned at her, finding the bottle and showing her its empty contents. Her mouth dropped in mock offense.
“I told you, Darcy, the wine was mine,” he said amused. He sat up but turned to her as they rested over their discarded clothes. “So tell me, on Midgard, what do they call it when a woman brings a man wine but ends up giving him so much more?”
Darcy arched an eyebrow, knowing he was trying to trick her. He met her coy, toothy grin. “Simple, oh God of Mischief. It’s called...” She leaned in and nipped his bottom lip. “A party.”
“I was afraid it was called something far more vulgar.”
“I bet you did,” she said. “I wonder...am I going to hate myself in the morning?”
“Most likely you will try to convince yourself of it,” he said, drawing her next to him. She felt his lips on her breasts again before he pulled away to meet her gaze. His hands, however, remained on them with vigorous fascination. “However, I assure you, you will not regret this night...” He leaned next to her ear, and she shivered. “Ever.”
Darcy grinned. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” When she met his eyes, Loki could see her trying to figure him out again. She reached out, touching his cheek and putting a stray tendril of his hair behind his ear. “I can’t believe what they say about you...” Her words trailed off as Loki’s smile thinned. “But I can see why Thor still cares about you.”
Loki sat up, bending over her and feeling the fury and anger simmer within his bones. When he looked at Darcy though, he felt no hatred or malice. He ran a finger through her hair and whispered, “None of that matters anymore,” he said. “My brother has given you to a defeated man.”
Darcy shook her head, and her words deadpanned. “You look fine to me - better than fine, a few minutes ago.”
Loki’s smirk returned. “Now that the wine is all gone, will you leave?”
She released a heavy breath as his lips hovered over hers. “I don’t need any wine,” she said, locking with his malachite eyes. “Do you?”
Slowly, smoothly, he covered himself over her again, shifting his limbs around hers, finding her, and discovering their rhythm as if it had been born a second life. Night still loomed over them, with Loki’s back to the cold and vast sea of stars. Feminine warmth shifted underneath him like a tide, moving, worshipping, and in the fresh sky, morning was peeking at them over the horizon - reminding them of their last precious minutes together that fused into a brand new day.
.xxxxx.
A few days later, Loki found Darcy unpacking in her new apartment close to her job at The Daily Beast. It wasn’t difficult for him to find her. He had slipped back into his dimensional hiding places to heal for the duration, but Darcy was never far from his frenetic thoughts. Though, Darcy was the only thing about his thoughts that didn’t have a scheme to it. He just didn’t know what to do with her, but he knew that her effect on him wasn’t just going to disappear.
He appeared when she was putting her copious books on her new bookshelf. His voice startled her, and he watched her dodge a very large textbook as it tumbled to the floor.
“With the favor you owed Thor, I was hoping you’d be rewarded a much better living arrangement,” he said, and she cried in shock. She spun around and saw him leaning smugly against the door frame of her living room. She rolled her eyes.
“Gees, don’t do that!” she said, clutching her heart. She wrinkled her nose. “And another thing, do you know how much rent costs in this city?” She marched toward him, her hands on her hips. “Give me an interview and I may be able to afford another place.”
“No one wants my side of the story, Darcy,” he said brusquely.
Darcy smiled. “You’d be surprised.”
“Not now,” he said; his tone slightly harsh and he saw Darcy’s face fill with worry.
“Ruh-roh, in trouble again?” she asked lightheartedly.
“I am the God of Mischief,” he droned sardonically.
“Well, if you need some place to squat...”
“No...Well, not for long,” he said, and he began idly playing with the spines of her books as he approached her. He met her inquisitive eyes. “For tonight however...”
Darcy titled her head and smiled. “Cool, I’ll call for pizza.”
He grabbed her hand, jerking her close to him. “I’m not interested, not in that.”
“So...this is a booty call?” Darcy asked bluntly, and Loki understood the context, though he still found some of Darcy’s language to be a bit uncouth.
“I suppose you already know, I have a lot of annoying superhero types looking for me, so I’m warning you if you decide to help me,” he said, pulling her flush against him and playing with her hair. She didn’t even tense in his embrace, just leaned her head against his chest.
“I know,” she said.
“No, you don’t,” he replied firmly. She wrapped her arms around his torso and looked up at his grim expression. Her eyes, bright and unwavering, seemed to be laughing at him.
“If you don’t want pizza, then how about wine? I have two bottles this time,” she offered, and Loki sighed.
“You’re really not taking this seriously, are you?” he said languidly, and after a loud “Nope” she was already pulling at his clothes, swearing that his “Batman costume” was getting in the way.
“You’re stupid, mortal, do you know that?” he sneered at her, and Darcy shot a look at the taser on her kitchen counter, next to the wine, and his eyes automatically followed hers.
“What was that about calling me stupid?” Darcy asked, as she pulled away his pants not so tenderly. Loki frowned, shaking his head, holding back a smirk for theatricality.
“I thought so,” she said, removing her own shirt, for his hands could never resist her breasts. She laughed as he touched them, and she drew him back to the counter, capturing his mouth in a long overdue kiss. She pulled away and grinned saucily. “Now, how about that wine?”
He smirked, and not even Loki, the God of Mischief, could ever refuse her.
END