.
Loki had done a lot of things in his life to make him question the grip he held on his sanity. Lying, cheating, colluding with then killing his sociopathic Frost Giant sire, throwing himself willingly into a wormhole… The list of his actions that could raise eyebrows was fairly extensive.
But this had to be by far the most obvious case of madness in his life to date. It plumbed dangerous new depths, even for him.
Loki stared at the sleeping mortal woman currently sprawled beside him. Her face was flushed but peaceful, full lips tilted ever so slightly in an expression of smug contentment. She lay on her stomach, a sheet covering most of her body, one of her arms draped over his chest and her legs entwined with his. Loki's gaze travelled over the creamy expanse of her thigh where it had slipped free of the sheet, and he swallowed dryly.
Stupid, it was stupid. He should get up, at once. Put a spell on her so she would not wake, teleport them back to Jane Foster's house, and disappear. There was no time to delay; he could feel the Other's impatience pulsing angrily through the sceptre that connected them. The Chitauri were waiting. He was waiting.
And yet… Loki lingered in the bed, lifting a hand to map the curve of Darcy's jaw. Her forehead creased, and she mumbled something, shifting restlessly against him. The sound transported Loki back to their lovemaking, and the way she had moaned his name with such abandon it turned his veins to fire and robbed him of all reason. He breathed deep, his other hand clenching in the bedsheet to stop himself from rolling her under him.
Loki was no shrinking violet. He'd had his share of lovers throughout his long life - he had, after all, spent centuries as second in line to the Asgardian throne, and while most of the female attention fell to Thor, there was usually enough left over to keep him occupied - but this chance meeting with a mortal girl was something else entirely. Loki wasn't used to being with someone who had nothing to gain from his favour. Asgardian women bedded him for power or influence, or even, sometimes, in the misguided hope of catching Thor's eye through sheer proximity (Loki tried to avoid that particular scenario, but it was something of an inevitability given the dynamics of their relationship).
But Darcy did not, as far as he could tell, want any of those things. She had given herself to him without any apparent concern for who or what he was. It was not power, or fame, or anything else he could offer that motivated her, but sheer desire that still, hours after the event, struck him dumb with disbelief.
She'd given herself to him not because he was a Prince of Asgard, or Thor's brother, or the wielder of an infinity stone, but because he was Loki. Just Loki.
Obviously, I'm buttering you up for a repeat performance.
Though he hadn't meant to, the arm that was still slung around Darcy's shoulders tightened, pressing her closer to his body. She curled around him like a cat, warm and supple, her breath tickling his chest when she exhaled. He watched her with half-lidded eyes, tracking the outline of her body, greedily memorising each curve and dip. Loki knew that the vision of her, flushed and quivering as she came apart in his arms, would remain with him forever; an unexpected boon he intended to lock away tight, to savour once his plans had come to fruition.
His plans. Loki frowned, thoughts turning reluctantly to the mission he had set out to accomplish. There would be bloodshed, undoubtedly, though he hoped the mortals would see the sense of his proposition relatively swiftly and avoid a full military engagement with the Chitauri. They had worshipped his father once, willingly enough. Surely they would do the same for him. After all, what was one God for another?
Across the room, Thanos' sceptre glowed malevolently. Loki sighed, and began to unlatch Darcy from his side. She grumbled at his movement, and clung tighter, one of her thighs riding up his leg, letting him feel the heat still pouring from her. Loki stiffened, a muscle in his jaw flexing as he battled the desire that surged through him. She was still naked, still gloriously open for him. A slight shift in angles was all it would take. One thrust, and he would be buried inside her again.
Loki couldn't help it. He groaned aloud.
Darcy's lids fluttered at the sound, and before he could move her eyes were cracking open to regard him in bleary confusion.
"Hey," she said, her voice hoarse. "You're still here."
He was annoyed at having woken her. Annoyed at himself for not having the good sense to disappear, and leave this mortal where she remained, in the past. "Not for long," he said, running a hand down the curve of her spine and feeling her shiver against him. "I must go."
"Wait." She reached out and pulled him close, head dipping to nuzzle his neck. The soft, innocent kisses she pressed to his throat heated his blood more effectively than the fires of Muspelheim, and despite his determination to rise, Loki found himself leaning in to her touch. His hand on her back slid lower, pulling her close. When his erection dug into her hip, Darcy made a sound of amusement.
"Good morning to you too, big guy." She lifted her head, shooting him a teasing look. "Guess you're ready for round two huh?"
No. The Tesseract. Get up. Fuck, who was he kidding? He may as well have been paralysed, so little resistance did he offer as Darcy crawled over his body, lavishing him with kisses, her mouth tracing a hot line from his neck to his chest. She teased each nipple before following the path of his abdomen, tickling the hair that formed a trail from his belly button to the juncture of his thighs.
He was still trying to process the direction she was headed when her hand snaked out to take the hard length of him in a firm grip. He groaned, teeth clenching as he fought to keep from bucking against her and disgracing himself by showing just how eager he was. His attempts at self-control were foiled when her hand vanished, replaced by a warm gust of breath, and then, before he could brace himself, the searing heat of her mouth closing around the head of his cock.
"Fuck." The guttural curse rang around the room. Loki ground his head into the pillow, closing his eyes as every bit of blood in his body rushed south, leaving him light-headed and dizzy. Darcy's tongue swirled around his tip before she took him into her mouth, humming a note of pleasure in the back of her throat that Loki swore would haunt him the rest of his long life. He choked, seizing her by the shoulders and hauling her up his body until they were face to face.
His voice was a hoarse growl. "Keep doing that, and round two won't last very long."
She chuckled, a carefree sound that made something in his chest tighten. Trying not to think too much about it, Loki ran his hands down the sides of her body until they rested on the swell of her hips. She shifted so she was straddling him, using her knees to keep herself above him and resisting when he tried to ease her on to his erection. Her eyes gleamed wickedly, as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
Oh yes, this mortal knew how to make mischief alright. It was no wonder he couldn't get enough of her.
"Tut tut," she drawled, splaying her palm on his chest to keep him in place. "We can't have that, can we?" She leaned close until her lips brushed his, pulling back when he made to deepen the kiss. Loki heard himself growl, and Darcy laughed again. "Easy there, tiger. I'm not going anywhere."
No, but I am. He sat up abruptly, throwing her off balance and holding her firmly to keep her from tipping off him. She squeaked, the sound changing to a gasp when he nudged her entrance. Their foreheads pressed together and Loki sought her mouth, groaning as her lips parted to accept his tongue at the same time as she sank lower in his arms, sheathing him inside of her in a single fluid motion. Darcy's thighs clenched and she moaned, rocking forward, fingernails digging crescent moons into his shoulder blades.
"Oh my god, Loki."
He would never, ever get tired of hearing her moan his name like that. Smirking against her mouth, Loki picked up the rhythm, arms still encircling her, pressing her tight to his body so he could feel every tremor that passed through her, every minute response to his touch. He listened to the cadence of her moans, experimenting with different rhythms and angles to see which suited her best, watching as her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed in that delicious, astonished look of delight he was swiftly becoming addicted to.
He held her as she climaxed in his arms, feeling the tremors run through her body as her limbs tightened and she keened his name like a litany. His own release wasn't too far off, but Loki clenched his jaw in an effort to tamp it down. He didn't want this to be over yet. He wanted to make her come again and again until she could think of nothing but him and the pleasure he was giving her.
Gods, if this was madness he never wanted to be sane again.
He rolled them over, keeping his pace slow, letting her recover before he increased the tempo once more. To distract himself from the burning need to drive into her, Loki ducked his head to lavish some attention of her delectable breasts. It was then that he heard it.
The sound was faint, barely audible over the gasps and moans of their lovemaking. Nothing more than a high-pitched whine, like a mosquito flying on the other side of the room. But to Loki's finely tuned senses it was as loud as a death knell screeching out of the eternal void. And just as blood-curdling.
His head snapped up, and he stared at the sceptre resting innocently against the far wall. It was pulsating, electric blue light within it flashing back and forth like a roving spotlight. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel its mirror in his skull, an insistent, relentless tugging at the back of his head like a hook dug into the flesh of his mind. Searching for him. Calling for him. Fuck.
"What's wrong?" Darcy, still emerging from blissful oblivion, gazed up at him with wide, confused eyes. She must have noticed how stiff he'd gone in her arms, because her hands ran back and forth across his shoulders, a comforting gesture. "Loki?"
Instead of answering, Loki buried his face in her neck and thrust deeper, ending her attempts at inquiry as she gasped and arched her back in response. He took her hard and fast, losing himself in the feel of her, in the sweet scent of her body, her moans and her tight grip on his shoulders urging him on until her muscles clenched around him once more and her voice shook in his ear.
"Loki I'm co - I'm com - "
It was too much, this time, to resist. He groaned and gave in to his release, emptying himself inside her with a choked gasp he tried to smother into her hair. For one magnificent moment the ecstasy of it drove out all else, and he felt himself floating freely on a cloud of pleasure, sated and content, oblivious to everything except the warm, soft mortal he cradled in his arms.
Far too quickly, it was over. A sharp throb in his temple made him wince, and Loki blinked, reality crashing over him like a wave. Beneath the pain was an impatient wrench of the Other's power, attempting to drag him closer. Menace filled the room like noxious gas.
Disengaging from Darcy, Loki withdrew until he stood beside the bed. He allowed himself one final look at her beautiful naked form, then conjured their clothes with a swipe of his hand. Without preamble, he stalked over to retrieve his sceptre from the wall.
"I am returning you to Jane Foster's home."
She blinked up at him, confused and disoriented. "But - "
He didn't wait for her to finish. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he transported them both back to the room they had left earlier. The familiar surroundings materialised around them and Loki eased Darcy gently onto her own bed. She barely seemed to notice.
The real Jane Foster was downstairs, talking to someone on the phone. Loki caught the sound of his name and scowled. No doubt Thor's woman had already alerted SHIELD to his presence. It wouldn't be long before agents were crawling over this place, questioning Darcy, demanding to know what he had said to her, where he had taken her, what they had done. He frowned, reconsidering leaving her here to face their wrath. Perhaps he could take her away somewhere and -
His brain stopped him before the train of thought could complete itself. There was nowhere he could take her that was any safer than where she currently was. Besides, he would need all his energy focused in one direction if he was to succeed in obtaining the Tesseract. And he had to succeed. The alternative was unthinkable.
Darcy would be safe with Jane. Thor would never allow anything to happen to his mortal; as long as Darcy remained at her side, she would be protected.
Satisfied, Loki turned to face her. She was uncharacteristically silent, but her eyes had lost their glazed bewilderment. They fixed on him with a sharpness that made him feel oddly transparent.
"You're leaving," she said before he could speak. He nodded, grateful he didn't have to announce it. "Where to?"
He gave a slight shake of his head to indicate his inability to answer. "You should remain near to Jane Foster," he said instead. "It will be safest by her side, given my brother's penchant for heroic over-protectiveness. And remember, you gave me your word to avoid New York."
"Uh huh. Am I going to be seeing your face on the news any time soon?"
Almost certainly. Loki took a deep breath, adjusting his grip on the sceptre. "It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Darcy Lewis."
She flushed, her pink cheeks reminding him of how she had looked earlier. With an effort Loki pushed the image aside. "You too," she said, rubbing her palms against her thighs, before a gleam ignited in her eyes and her lips curved upwards. "I'm not going to lie. This whole night has been… kind of fucking amazing."
Loki allowed himself a small smirk. "Consider the sentiment resoundingly reciprocated." He regarded her fondly for a moment longer, then turned to go.
At the last second her voice pulled him back. "Am I ever going to see you again?"
He paused. The sight of her there before him - pale, flushed skin, dark hair tousled from lovemaking, bright blue eyes - was burnished in his mind's eye for all eternity. And no matter how hard his rational side might argue that it was impossible, Loki would be lying if he said he wasn't already plotting a way for their paths to cross once more.
Strangely, on this occasion the God of Lies felt no compulsion to lie at all. "I very much hope so."
Darcy blinked, looking taken aback, before a mischievous smile curled the edges of her mouth. "Oh, good," she said, folding her arms over her chest. "Well then I look forward to it."
"As do I." With a final nod, Loki turned away. "Farewell, Darcy."
"Bye." The smile on her face followed him as he vanished into the night. Loki tucked it away, deep in the locked room only he knew about inside his chest.
It was time.
.
A/N: Thanks for reading! This was going to be the end but after watching Endgame I've decided on a short little Epilogue to finish things up. It will have SPOILERS for Endgame though so if you haven't seen it yet, I suggest not clicking 'next' ;P