I just couldn't get this idea out of my head so I had to jot it down real quick; it's got a creepy Sleeping Beauty vibe meshed with the myth of Eros and Psyche. Not sure how exactly to tag...it's technically non-con, but there is a twist that makes it less so. Anyhow, it's mostly just smut. Please let me know what you think!
The trip to Asgard had taken all of a few minutes, seconds really, but to a mortal mind and body, this short but very intense trip was a jarring thing. Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster had arrived there for a small 'diplomatic' trip, but more than anything it was for personal reasons: Jane just really wanted to see Thor. And Darcy just really wanted to be able to vacation at an exotic destination.
The intern supposed that it was some kind of interdimensional jet lag, but she passed out solidly a few hours after they had arrived, aided perhaps by a cup of very strong Asgardian mead. She'd stumbled into the large room that she'd been assigned, stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed; she had a habit of sleeping naked and wasn't going to abandon it simply because they were no longer on Earth.
Loki was supposed to be on his best behaviour, especially now because they had visitors, visitors from Earth, the place that he had almost destroyed in a fit of possessed monomaniacal ambition. But Loki was tired of being on his best behaviour. It rankled him. He instantly disliked Jane Foster, he found her to be a know-it-all of near insufferable proportions: he hated the way that she stuck up her nose at him and made googly eyes at his brother. But he found that he did not exactly mind her assistant, Darcy. After months of being bored to tears and forced to suffer silently, he was pent up and she was the most interesting and lovely thing that he had seen in quite some time. And so all of his wicked impulses immediately rushed forward and begged to take over.
This wicked impulsiveness began as simple voyeurism: Loki watched Darcy sleep, observed the rise and fall of her chest, her peaceful closed eyes and pretty mouth. Then he had grown bored of this and decided that he needed a better look, so he carefully pulled down the blankets that covered her. Very lovely, indeed, he thought, his blood rushing south. Soft, inviting skin, such delicious curves, the best set of tits that he'd seen in years, possibly ever. He bent down closer; she smelled wonderful too, like flowers and heat. The scent went straight to his head, and to his cock, which was now pressing urgently against the front of his breeches. He allowed himself a touch, his fingers slowly skimming the curve of her breast, then he grew bolder and cupped it in his hand, suppressing a moan as he watched her nipple harden.
She did not wake. Loki trailed his hand down her thigh, very gently dipping his fingers into the place between her legs. Soft, silky-he bit back a groan-and wet. If he stayed, things might get out of hand, he realized, and so he departed, vanishing like a spirit and returning to his own chambers. There he took his aching cock in hand and began to stroke, the picture of Darcy's sleeping form burned into his mind as he imagined sucking on her sweet tits and delving his fingers into her cunt. Would she moan, would she stir and wake, or would she stay sleeping, even as he made her come? He finished abruptly with that thought, wondering how she would look lying in slumber, belly and breasts splattered with his seed. He was not bored any longer.
The next night, once again Darcy's eyes began to drift closed during evening festivities. Loki watched her bid her friends goodnight and then slip away. A short time later he appeared in her room and found her laying peacefully in the large bed. He wanted to proceed with caution; if he were to be caught, there was no telling what punishment he would be made to endure. She was lying on her back, her legs slightly splayed as if in invitation.
Consequences be damned, he wanted to taste that pussy, and so he leaned down, first pressing a kiss to her mound then easing her legs further apart so that he could begin a slow and languid search with his tongue. She stirred and a very soft sound escaped her mouth, but she did not wake. Her body was responding beautifully to him; her nipples were hard little points, her clit swelled and he could taste the sweet juices of her arousal that had started to flow. Darcy shifted again and he knew that he must leave. He vanished just as she opened her eyes.
Loki knew that he should stop, but he was addicted to his new sleeping beauty. Dark thoughts crossed the god's mind, fevered ideas of how he could keep her safely in slumber long enough to have his way with her. First he'd tease her to climax with his tongue and fingers, watch her body shudder and tremble in orgasm without waking, then slip inside of her slick heat and fuck her-gently, he decided, something about this girl made him want to be gentle, strangely-until he'd filled her with his come. But no. He couldn't do it, no draughts or spells, he wanted her sleeping, not unconscious, and he almost liked the thought that she could wake at any moment. A grin snaked across his mouth at the thought of her waking mid-orgasm, with him buried to the hilt in her tight quim, wondered what her reaction would be then.
That first night, Darcy hadn't known what was truly going on, but she'd had a dream that Loki had come into her room and touched her. The idea was, to be honest, a titillating one for her. She'd been fighting an attraction to him ever since they had arrived, reminding herself endlessly that he was not a good person-god-thing-whatever he was, and that it was best to keep her distance. Still... She wondered if it had really been just a dream. It certainly felt very real; even when she woke she could still sense the ghostlike touch of his fingers. And, she noticed, the blankets were pulled down, exposing her body. Darcy told herself that she'd probably kicked them off while she was sleeping, but she could not fight the feeling that she had been visited, and couldn't help wondering if anything would happen the next night.
So she feigned sleep, instead just drifting into a deep, almost meditative state of waiting. Sure enough, soon she felt him in the room, right beside herâ€"she could tell that it was Loki by his scent (dark, heady incense and snow) and just by his presence in general, a pleasant shadowy chill, like a cloud covering the moon on a cold night. She lay differently, her legs open just a little, the blankets already mostly off. The feeling of his mouth had shocked and delighted her, and she'd struggled to keep still as that talented tongue went to work on her. Here and there she couldn't help a quiet moan-which, in retrospect, might have been good or bad-because she was right on the cusp of orgasm and it was going to be very hard to pretend to stay sleeping through that. He had vanished then, perhaps fearful that she would wake, and so she'd quickly slipped a hand down and finished herself off, praying that he would be back the next night.
How to proceed? Darcy had decided that she wanted him to fuck her-god, she was aching for it-but she simply didn't know if she was a good enough actress to pretend to be dreaming once he got that cock inside of her. Plus, she wanted to be able to see her beautiful dark prince while he used her. This was indeed a conundrum.
After dinner, to calm her nerves, she had a large goblet of mead. Just as she'd anticipated, soon she grew very sleepy and excused herself. She shed her clothes and climbed into bed, drifting off for a moment but then waking as she felt him beside her on the bed, keeping her eyes closed and her breathing steady and even. She waited.
He was going to do it, Loki decided as he materialised on Darcy's bed, staring down at her. If she did wake, he would simply vanish, leaving her to believe that it was a strange dream. Situating himself, he kissed along her neck, then down to suck and lave at her breasts. Then lower still, tasting the sweetness between her thighs: she was so wet! He undid the front of his pants, releasing his cock. Unable to resist, he moved up and gently nudged the tip of it against her lips, leaving a small, shiny dab of pre-come. Not wanting to waste any more time with these erotic explorations, he eased her legs apart and pressed in slowly. She did not wake. Her body welcomed him: her cunt was perfect, clutching heat. He started to move, in and out, biting his lip and trying not to make a sound.
Then a gasp escaped her lips and her eyelids fluttered open. Darcy was unable to stop herself, it felt amazing having him inside of her, letting him claim her body. She had hoped that she would be able to keep up the charade but she could not. She needed to see him.
Loki froze, trying to think of what to do: disappear, throw an enchantment to try to disorient her or put her back to sleep. But her eyes were so pretty-so wide and blue and staring at him-that he could do nothing.
''Don't stop,'' she whispered.
''What?''
''Keep going, please.''
The god could scarcely believe what he was hearing but he certainly wasn't going to argue. However, there was one stipulation. ''Close your eyes,'' he said.
She pouted in response and it made him want to bite her lower lip. Hard.
''I'll give you the best fucking you've ever had, but you must close your eyes. If you open them again, I'll leave.'' His voice was stern and she knew that he was serious.
Darcy relented, her eyes closing as she made herself become soft and pliant and at his mercy, like a captive in a dream.
Loki had thought the spell would break when she woke, that the game would cease to be such a sweet one, but actually his desire had only flared hotter. Now she obeyed and lay still beneath him, but he could feel the wet velvet walls of her cunt fluttering around his prick, saw her breathing heavier than before. Her willingness, the way that she gave in to him made it somehow more exciting that having her asleep. ''That's my good girl,'' he whispered as he moved.
Darcy came almost silently, swallowing the sounds of pleasure, reabsorbing them into her body, allowing only the softest spasms to shake her. Somehow, this forced stillness only increased the eroticism of the moment for her.
He felt her drench him as she climaxed hard, but she followed his orders and did not open her eyes. The feeling of her orgasm triggered his and he spent himself deep inside of her.
Stay here, she wanted to say, stay with me like this. Let me look at you.
Loki pulled away, leaving her empty, still, and silent: she felt his lips against hers, the soft flick of his tongue. Then he said, ''It's just a dream, love. Go back to sleep.'' With those words, he was gone. Darcy opened her eyes and found herself along in the darkness. It could have been a dream, but for the smell of him everywhere, in the room and all over her body, and the sweet ache between her legs.