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Title: Wild Days
Fandom: Thor
Ship: Darcy/Loki
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: not betaed
Word Count: 3056

Summary: Porny fun with gods and interns... Loki finds himself at Darcy's place, suffering from a hangover, and a hankering for her.

Prompt: Porn Battle XIII (The Lucky Thirteen) darcy lewis/loki; confused, impress, lick, mischief, outwit, popsicle

WILD DAYS (Porn Battle Entry)

Author's Note: My first time writing this pairing so please be gentle!

Wild Days

Loki woke with a start, the fuzzy memories from last night refusing to form a coherent picture in his mind. Sickness passed through him, and he swallowed the bitter liquids in his mouth with a grimace. His body felt heavy, every aspect of him slightly out of sync. He realized he’d drooled on his pillow, and he pulled his head up from its comfort a little too quickly, a massive headache pounding at him like a hammer.

A hammer? Ah, yes, he’d been with his brother last night. The images gained some form now, as he could recall a party: Full of humans, those costumed heroes his brother was so found of. And his brother had pranced around with that mortal woman flung over his arm, showing her off like a prized mare. Loki had actually been a mare once – fun times remembered with unease – but even he had had his pride back then. This woman, this Jane, had merely ogled at Thor completely smitten with him, probably thinking he could do no wrong.

And that was pretty much what he could recall. Strange really because mortal alcohol beverages were rarely potent enough to even get him a little tipsy, and a god required some serious substance abuse to have been drunk enough to forget. So what had happened?

He rose from the bed, realizing only now that he’d slept in his clothes – this pathetic human attire the woman had chosen for him – and in a bed with pink sheets. The headache hammered again, getting him to grab both sides of his head in attempt to squeeze it out of his system. It didn’t help even if pressure did feel strangely good on his temples. Loki searched the room for his specter, yet didn’t find it, leading him towards the path of alertness. Where was he?

He walked out of the room, taking support from the walls, as a wave of discomfort swept through him. He’d never experienced anything like this, not even during the few times he’d gotten tricked by his own brother. Thor lacked the real skill and passion for pranks, which was why he was generally unable to walk the extra mile needed just to make things perfect. No, this had someone else’s handprint all over it.

His eyes protested when the hallway ended and he stepped into a wide lounge, where the morning sun shone in through the windows. He was in a tall building, he could see the skyscrapers outside (obviously they were nothing compared to the structures in Asgard and paled in comparison). Slowly the pieces clicked in his mind when he recognized the décor, connecting it to S.H.I.E.L.D. Then he turned his head and noticed her slumped over a chair, reading a magazine and sucking on a popsicle innocently.

Darcy was still in her morning gear, not expecting her unwanted house guest to wake up any time soon. She wore a pair of nightie shorts that complimented her legs, an oversized t-shirt that hung over her forearms, and her bra, which was curiously enough yellow. The straps were visible as the t-shirt hung loose, exposing her shoulders. Her hair was long and wavy; it fell over her back like dark torrent. Her legs were resting over another chair, as she leaned back, the magazine spread in her lap.

But what really caught his attention was the pale pink popsicle she was sucking, her smooth lips embracing its head and melting it away. Loki found himself swallowing hard, a strange stirring in his loins that overcame even his hangover. He was reminded of his brother’s words, how the best cure to a hangover was lying down with a woman – or a man if that was one’s preference – and just fucking them to a mattress. Having never really paid attention to the airheaded assistant of Jane Foster, he was suddenly feeling the temptation of his brother’s advice.

Darcy stopped sucking for a moment, sensing she was being watched, and she turned to him slowly, lips still around the frozen delicacy. An awkward moment emerged where she looked almost panicked and couldn’t tear her eyes off the trickster god (whom she’d tasered last night among another things). Even in his current state with his dark hair ruffled by his restless sleep, his white shirt rumpled and his jeans hugging his thighs and ass so perfectly, she still found him quite breathtaking.

“Morning sunshine,” she said casually after removing the popsicle from her mouth. Her generally clear voice sounded hoarse this time, leaving her wondering how she managed to sound so… husky when being faced with the possibility of being cornered and cursed by a pissed off deity.
“Where is my brother?” Loki asked with disdain, not believing the way his body betrayed his senses over a damn mortal. This one was even more pathetic than his brother’s bride.

Darcy shifted uncontrollably, noticing that her popsicle was melting, and she quickly leaned in to lick the melting juice. Loki’s calm suffered again, he was caught watching her and couldn’t help but imagine bending her over the table and showing her a piece of divinity.

“Stop. Doing. That,” he snapped at her. He then begun a slow approach and noticed the taser lying on the table, alongside with his specter. They were paired in an almost affectionate manner.

Darcy swore shit would be get real really fast and hoped she could bullshit herself out of this situation while he was still sensible. But the truth was Loki had been planning to ruin the evening, she’d noticed it. He’d been scheming in a corner alone, watching Jane and Thor be happy and so horny for one another. Now if Darcy hadn’t stepped in, Loki would have done something extremely stupid. Which meant, she would never get to be godmother to a beautiful god-baby and Jane would die alone and miserable.

It had been a noble attempt. At least until she’d cheated and asked Tony if he had anything that could get a god on his knees and puking. Obviously she should’ve suspected that Mr. Stark assumed she wanted to roofie the god of mischief and spend the rest of the night babysitting him. So yeah, things had gone a little crazy after she’d offered him a Darcy-special to drink.

Tony Stark had called it the best party ever, yet Darcy hadn’t felt inclined to agree. In the end she’d tasored him and had to wrestle him back to her apartment – because Thor and Jane had been having crazy monkey sex in his. Quite frankly Darcy was surprised she’d pulled off this whole thing without alerting either. Really she deserved a gold medal for her effort, not a pissed of deity looking to turn her into a… what was that word again? He’d been very vocal about turning her into a… heiorun?

Then she realized the extremely handsome and pissed off god was standing next to her now, irritation more than visible on his face. She also noticed that her popsicle was melting, the juices running down to her fingers now, urging her to clean them. Loki saw this also and he warned her with his eyes not to go there. Not now.

Darcy should’ve been mortified, she should’ve just called his big brother to haul him the hell out of here, but instead she followed that mischievous streak in her character. She put the popsicle in her mouth almost completely, sucking the melting juice from it. Loki watched her powerlessly, this sight eroding his sanity. He’d been so horny during his stay in Midgar, so incredibly frustrated.

She then pulled it out slowly and moved to lick the juice from her fingers, her tongue becoming the most erotic thing he’d seen in this mortal realm. Acting like the god he was, entitled to any of the riches in this realm, he yanked her to her feet almost violently, the popsicle flying to the floor from her hand. Darcy’s eyes widened with surprise, she was sure he knew everything and would kill her now. Instead he pulled her close, his very obvious erection pushing against the joint of her legs. And then he kissed her neck.

Sense and sensibility flew out of the window and Darcy turned liquid in his arms, unable to resist his kisses. Loki held her tightly, pushing her hair aside, tugging at it a bit. His teeth grazed her skin, the bruises healed by his butterfly kisses. He could see her lips twitch from the corner of his eyes. He was already obsessed with them, the thought of tasting them all over his mind. Eagerly, he claimed them a moment later, entering her slightly cracked mouth with his tongue. He explored all over, realizing she tasted like raspberry.

Darcy allowed the sensations to rock her body, spin her right into arousal. She was so wet and ready, her insides ached for contact. New Mexico hadn’t exactly been a sex capital and being stuck there with Miss. Driven by Her Career hadn’t gotten her out much. And at some point in the middle of this craziness, her vibrator had run out of batteries, and she hadn’t remembered to buy any. Now her neglected urges were in full-on rebellion, her hormones clouding her sense.

When he stopped the kiss, their lips parting painfully, Darcy actually open her eyes, not having realized she’d closed them in first place. His forest green eyes surveyed her in her pleasure, surprise visible there. Loki hadn’t really thought it through, he’d just taken what he’d wanted like always, and now that he realized her enchantment with him, he was going to go all the way.

“What are you doing?” Darcy asked, feeling loopy and horny, still supported by his arms and confronted by his arousal. She just could’ve never believed someone like him – a freaking god for crying out loud – taking notice of her. This was like bad fan fiction. Well, good fan fiction, because she always read the porny stories with flimsy motives as well, immediately grasping for her vibrator afterwards.

Loki didn’t respond. He pushed onwards, moving them towards the windows. But it was more like he was gliding, bringing her along for the ride. Her eyes widened in shock, her hands grasping onto his shoulders for support. She felt so delicate and small in his embrace, despite the aggression he’d attacked her with.

Then he stopped and pushed her from his arms abruptly. Darcy fell on the sofa behind her, not knowing what the hell was happening anymore. He was upon her a moment later, pushing her down with his weight. A moan escaped her lips, sounding sinfully right. And with him straddling her – even with the memories of being in this situation with boys in the backseats of their cars one time too many – her world just went crazy.

He tore her shirt open, moving his lips in her chest, her breasts. Disappointment flooded him, when he realized she was still wearing underwear, the complicated kind mortals used. Darcy blinked in confusion, loving way he fondled her, yet wondering why he suddenly halted. A second later she felt her bra suddenly vanish and had to turn her head down to realize it just wasn’t there anymore. His head was though.

She was about to voice a complaint about his treatment of her wardrobe when his hand closed around her breast, squeezing it tenderly before he closed his mouth around her nipple. The complaint died on her lips, as he sucked her nipple deliciously and she arched against him.
“Ok, you can do that,” she whispered in ecstasy.

She was beautifully full in her chest area, he realized, focusing on the most perfect pair of breasts he’d seen in awhile. She responded eagerly to his affection, squirming beneath him, arousing him further. And his headache was vanishing like a charm with each wave of pleasure. He could smell her need; feel the way her hands were reaching for his shirt.

Then she’d already yanked him from her breasts and back to her face. She kissed him, in spite of seeing his annoyance with her sudden pro-activity. And while she kissed him, searching for his tongue, she opened his shirt and slid it off him, gaining hold of his skin. Her hands travelled his back, nails clawing and fingers caressing. And she smiled into their kiss, giving him a slight peck on the lip before he retreated.

Loki was bewildered by her behavior, how she assumed she could act like this with him. It was insolent and addictive. But he didn’t object when she opened the front of his jeans, pulling his eager cock away from its restraints and started stroking him. Her grip was too light at first, he needed to put his hand on hers to show her the right amount of pressure, but she caught on quickly, curious eyes cast on him the whole time.

This one liked to look at him, even if he didn’t share her interest in connecting their eyes while she pleasured him. It felt too intimate for a lovely distraction like this. But once her eyes caught him, he was trapped there too.

His fuzzy mind began remembering details, like a deceptive smile while this girl offered him a drink. Had she drugged him last night? He watched her peel her lips with her teeth, as she quickened the strokes. And she writhed beneath him, her movement resembling pain more than pleasure. Loki found her entrance with his fingers, reaching beneath her shorts and panties. It was hot and wet there, more than inviting, so he slid a finger inside, watching as she gasped, biting her lip when he started to pleasure her.

He recalled the taser with humiliation, remembered holding onto her while trying to walk drunkenly. He added a finger inside her, not knowing how to feel about this information. He’d been beaten by a mortal, a silly girl. Yet even as he had her at his mercy, he didn’t feel angered. A strange respect emerged. He heard her giggle breathlessly, a sound quite unique and pleasing. Loki smirked at her, framing her face with his spare hand and kissing her, as the rest of their clothes vanished.

He pulled away from her grip, his finger made a retreat and he entered her, shaking her to the bones. She moaned into his ear pulling his head to her, her fingers dwindling into his hair. “Oh my fucking god,” she whispered, realizing how this literally was a god fucking her.

Loki smirked, lost in the sweet paradise within her: tightness, warmth, and the slipperiness coming together in perfect harmony. Gods could birth a new cosmos under the right conditions, the right union. He wouldn’t mind doing just that with her, because this felt like this divinity already.

He groaned with new thrusts, coming closer to his peak. She was pulling his hair in her ecstasy, not knowing the ground from the sky. And when he touched her clit, rubbing it with his fingertips so lightly that she could barely feel his touch, she was done for. Everything exploded around her. Darcy buried her scream into his neck, biting him.

Loki felt the pain, the pressure, the way she nearly punctured his skin. But he just put more strength in his thrusts, taking variation between quick and slow. She tightened around him, his hand held her breast, pinched her nipple and he pulled half-way out before thrusting back inside. He burst inside her, exhausted and revitalized at the same time.

After a moment’s hesitation, them panting in unison, sweat descending his back, he pulled away, eyes cast on the woman beneath him. He remained inside her, meeting her very satisfied gaze, and wondering what had just happened. His instincts had taken over, driven him into this like an animal. It hadn’t happened before; following his impulses had always been a conscious choice. So Loki had to deduce it had something to do with her.

“Are you a goddess in disguise, Darcy Lewis?” he asked her, watching disbelief sneak to her face and then amusement.

“I just shook your world, didn’t I?” she asked with a smirk, sounding sweet and wicked at the same time. He could tell she took pride of her skills, of being able to bring him pleasure.
Loki withdrew, allowing her to stand up in her naked glory, dark hair falling over her breasts.

While she rose, he stayed on the sofa, kneeled. He could feel the irritation of her bite all over his neck, a bruise was forming there. He touched the spot absentmindedly, watching her stretch like a cat, a smile still playing on her lips.

“I know what you did last night,” he told her, freezing her still as she was about to walk into her room to get clothes. Darcy turned to him with alert, a guilty confession visible on her face.

“I can think of a few ways for you to make it up,” he then smirked, imagining her soft lips around his cock.

“Great, I can hardly wait,” Darcy quipped, a hint sarcasm bleeding through.

She then continued her walk to her room, making disturbed faces all the way there, realizing that the shit had indeed hit the fan. She’d just become a vengeful god’s mistress or fuck toy – whatever you wanted to call it. But her body didn’t object like her mind did; He’d been the best lay of her life so far after all.

And there would something to talk about with Jane as well. Hell, maybe they could even compare notes! And with that Darcy burst into laughter, her voice resounding in the apartment and puzzling the deity on her couch.

Loki raised a brow, still not grasping this mortal woman, this Darcy. He had time to learn though. He would be here for awhile, evening the score with her. One couldn’t allow the news to spread that a mortal had gotten the best of him, so perhaps he could call this damage control?

With that Loki willed himself clothes and sat over the sofa casually, brushing his fingers through his wild hair. He always enjoyed a little chaos in his life and wild times were ahead of them, he was quite sure of that.

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