disclaimer: thor © kenneth branagh, marvel comics.
note #1: english isn't my first language. sorry. also, this is kind of... plotless. mindless babble.
— outburn the sun
by breakable bird
You wouldn't think so, but Loki's one of those kinky dudes in bed.
Yeah - okay, maybe you thought so (I read the stuff about the horse too, man! Total mindfuck, but I never grow the balls to ask him about it. It's just, you know, if you're banging a dude who banged a horse... It's kind of hard to feel alright with yourself, because who wins in horse sex? I bet the sickos who like zoophilia buy horse porn.)
Excuse me while I snort. Hah. Horse porn.
(Oh my god.)
But right - I wasn't talking about that. You know, I'm kind of random, yeah? At first I felt like when I was just a random chick at fifteen instead of a curvy and random chick at twenty. My boobs took a damn long time to grow, but fuck me it they don't get the job done. I bet when I'm old and wrinkly I'll have to wear a special bra or I'll break my back—wait, Loki says not to think of that because I will probably never be old and if I die he will kill death and take me back.
It's kinda romantic when he does that, you know - the whole I would kill death if he stole my beloved thing but then I get thinking - wasn't death married? You know, the whole Persephone stuff? It's not like I just stopped believing all religions are rubbish 'cause I sleep with a God. So what if he can end the world with a snap of his fingers - you know why I like him? He can buy—right, maybe not—he can get me tastycakes in the middle of the night. Yeah, damn skippy.
I bet your sweetheart can't do that, huh? Tough luck. I wrote my name on Loki's chest, because you know, if some whore is looking at his chest—that's more she should see. And I'm sappy like that, writing my name over his heart. But - who knows if it was really his heart? This Jötunn shit is complicated. And it freaks the heck out of Jane when he goes all blue, but Thor thinks it's amusing 'cause he's kinda short for a Frost Giant or whatever. I think it's fine - I already have to climb all over him when we get the urges when there isn't a bed at hand because man isn't he freakishly tall! It's like tall on a sick on legs, you know what I mean?
Crap, I forgot what I was saying.
Uh. So yeah, I'm Darcy Lewis, nice to meet you. I'm a origami genius, I work for a super-secret organisation that to be honest I still don't get what the fuck it does because god I swear they're like goddamn ACME. The other day I found a perfume named S.H.I.E.L.D. and I was just so disturbed because, what the heck? I'm so not stopping wearing my own shit. I don't care if they want to turn us into sheep and stuff, I'm still Darcy Lewis and even if they made me use the S.H.I.E.L.D. perfume I am doing a God so I'll still be special and unique and wonderful and all that jazz.
And—the first time we did it, you know these parties Pepper Potts organizes? All prim and proper and god she must hate the letter p and then Tony Stark turns them into the wild stuff. Seriously, Joan Jett would bow before Tony Stark, that's just how wild he is. Right, well I was pretending it wasn't awkward as hell while Jean and Thor totally dry-humped in a corner and I was chanting some hindu stuff in my head and then I saw him and I thought he's alone a beat he looks bored. I grabbed a bottle of the fancy beer Tony likes (I like the dude, but I bet he hasn't partied like a man since college, instead of all this upper-class shit) and made a beeline for him.
"Hey," I said.
He kind of looked at me and didn't say anything. I dunno if you've noticed but he's got this broody Byronic hero going on for him? Super hot. His mouth quirked a bit and I was all like shit and fucking mindreaders.
"Look," I said, "just stay the fuck out of my head, alright? When I tell my jokes, I like them to be clean and new and if you already know them - kind of stupid."
He inclined his head. You know, that regal nod crap them royalty like to do.
"Where's your helmet?" I asked. "I liked your helmet. It was cool."
He raised an eyebrow. "Informality was required to attend this reunion," he said. It turns me on when he talks like he's got a stick up his ass. Lots of stuff Loki does turns me on, now that I think about it. "Wearing my armor could be noted as a sign of hostility."
"I bet Tony would've understood," I said. "Sometimes he does stupid stuff wearing his super suit and only Pepper gets mad at him because god—"
"—no, I meant like swearing and perjury... ing and that - but right, god Tony can be such an asshole. I guess that's what happens when you've got money, a suit and a girl too good for you. I bet they're dying to jump each other's bones. I saw the Cap'n walk around Pepper before, and then Tony was there all," I faked a russian accent, "ja! macho. Whatcha wanna with my woman? You know who he should try? The Cap'n, I mean, not Tony - haha. Natasha. I bet she's got the hots for him. For the Cap'n. She's all Barbie Porn and a redhead and he's like a lifeguard except with the mind of a Boy Scout."
I stopped to sip my fancy beer. Loki was looking at me, you know, like sometimes he does - it's kinda sweet, really, but I don't tell him that because he gets all embarrassed and cute and then stop saying such foolishness, woman and when he goes all 'eh, woman' it pisses me off. That's what I was telling him while he kissed my neck in the elevator and I tried to check if there were cameras or not because I'm not that kinky thank you very much. Loki said shush up, woman and I went all, fucking god I'm Darcy! It's so hard to remember? and then we were in my house (it was a bit creepy 'cause, oh, he knows where I live huh), and when he was asleep later I wrote my name on his chest.
I was gonna write it on his dick but then I figured the ink would smudge when we, you know, and I figured that was pushing his fake sleep.
I don't remember what the fuck I wanted to say with this thing but, um - well, yeah. So I'm a pathetic twenty-something chick living off a crappy salary and my kinda-boyfriend talks dirty in bed or (THIS IS A SECRET OF EPIC PROPORTIONS) he recites me poetry. Seriously. This dude Cummings is his favourite (hardy har har but the man is good. The poet, I mean, not Loki - I mean, yeah, Loki too but I'm talking about the poet). It kinda turns me on too, because you've heard him talking right? He's like a hot line for sex phone.
But—right. Loki says I shouldn't speak of our «intimacy» with some loser. Anyway.
(I'm in love with a very brave very sad boy and god sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night to check he's still there and he talks with his mother trough some mirror mojo and I peek behind his shoulder to wave at the pretty lady and she smiles at me, kind of like thank you for taking care of my heart. But I love this boy, with his pale hands and slicked-back hot hair and thin, sharp smile and his green-fetish and the hidden sweet tooth and he helps me make snow-mans in winter.)
But how do you figure I tell him? He wants me to go with him to his god-city, you know, Asgard or whatever and meet his parents and it scares the pants off me - what if they don't like me? Waving at his mother is hardly the way to win a woman, right? And half the time I'm wearing Loki's shirt. It's not like we're gonna break up if they think I'm a golddigger bitch or something... but still. This is the kind of thing a chick has to do no matter what.
(He loves me too.)
Now I have to go burn this because if someone finds the little paper everyone is going to know Loki likes to do kinky stuff—I mean, alright, maybe that won't bother him so much because, hello, God of Mischief, but the poetry stuff - yeah, that'll get him.
Alright. So I just go and kind of... "Hey, handsome—I love you."
Oh my god he's reading over my shoulder LOKI STOP IT I'm serious hey aren't you gonna say anything i thought we talked about privacy you forgot just like that? because let me tell you this is not cool. and also oh wow don't... don't move that hand i... why the fuck am i still writing this—
(from the papers of darcy lewis. chyeah!)