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It's Not His Penis

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Darcy, well past tipsy and on an express train to drunk, flopped back on the on the couch in her apartment and yawned. Dinner with her friends had, of course been awesome. Whenever she and Thor were able to pry Jane away from the lab and into the, well, not fresh but at least the non-recycled air of Midtown and a restaurant that served anything BUT pop tarts? Yeah, good night. The movie and popcorn afterward was also wonderful, especially as she could always rely on Thor to ask the most hilarious questions about Midgardian culture as represented by Hollywood.

The flask of delicious golden something he'd produced with a weirdly intense look, on the other hand? That was amazeballs. "This is a very special kind of mead, and a friend requested that I deliver it to you personally, Lady Darcy."

Who was she to turn down free godly booze? And some sent direct from Asgard straight to her? She had wasted no time in making gimmehands at Thor, who chuckled and passed it over. The contents of the flask were weirdly thick. It looked like sunlight, smelled like apples and tasted like honey and bliss, and despite the strange viscosity, it slid over her tongue like liquid silk. Half an hour after her first sip, she felt utterly relaxed, and a bit like she was covered in fuzzy kittens and puppies and like maybe a unicorn had farted cupcake scented glitter in her general direction.

It was deceptively strong, is what she's thinking now. Thor had looked terribly satisfied at the good vibes Darcy could practically feel beaming out into the universe from her very pores, and even Jane had a fond, affectionate smile on her face as they stood to clean up a bit. She had felt even better when they told her not to move, she deserved a break and just let them do this for her, ok?

Full of feels, she hadn’t protested and just concentrated on becoming one with the couch cushions and enjoying the warm, contented glow that felt like it was working its way from her middle down her legs, up into her chest and over her arms. Taking a deep, deep breath, she’d beamed a happy goodbye at her friends as they lowered the lights and closed the door behind them.

Sighing contentedly, she took a moment to just be.

She was very thankful that Thor and Jane had gone back to their place, because inevitably, once out of the lab Jane remembered she had needs and a smokin' hot god ready to cater to them. And, ok, she's only human and it's been a while since Ian, and a girl's got needs, alright? She's living in a tower with some of the most attractive examples of humanity to be found on this planet.

Which reminded her, she needed to thank Tony again with coffee or brownies or something for her new, swank pad in the tower. She'd been out of earplugs and the apartment in London was really not that big. Not when a fertility god with the truly godly physique (SO muscle-y!) was in town and happy to demonstrate his prowess.

So, yeah. Good that she's got the space and the soundproof walls and floors between her and the big bangin' undoubtedly about to get underway in their quarters.

Finally alone, she took a moment to arch her back and remove her bra. Her nipples had hardened once the air conditioning kicked on, and damn what had been in that flask? She squirmed a bit deeper into the couch, massaging her breasts through her shirt because even a Stark engineered bra is hard on the girls. Her clit throbbed in response, and she could feel her cunt lips slipping against each other as she squirmed to put a foot up on the coffee table.

Where it promptly knocked into something extremely hard, and she frowned. Thor had left Mjölnir on the coffee table.

And Darcy, who has always been incredibly curious, considered for just about a nanosecond before reaching out to very gently place a finger on the end of the handle.

"Hey Mew-Mew, you won't zap me if I explore you a little bit, will you? I don't want to lift you, because...complicated, but no one ever just gets to *look* at you, you know?"

A breathless pause, and a curious hum from the hammer invited Darcy to trail her fingers over the leather wrapped shaft. It was curiously warm, and as she watched, extremely faint tendrils of light began to emanate from the otherworldly object. So faint that if she wasn't sitting in her dark living room with the curtains drawn and all the lights off, she'd never be able to see them.

They reached for her hand, but paused before making contact.

"Well, who am I to turn down an invite like that?", she said, and dragged the coffee table closer to the couch so she could comfortably stretch out and still have the hammer in easy reach.

"Just, you know, please don't zap me. I realize it'd be cosmic justice, given how I tased Thor, but my hair is curly enough already, thank you very much."

The tendrils of light had wrapped around her wrist by now, and she got the singular sensation of something rolling its eyes at her fondly.

And then.

It's hard to hang around an obsessed astrophysicist and a Norse God and not absorb a few things. She knew that Mjölnir had been forged in the heart of a dying star, but seeing it behind her closed eyelids? Something else entirely. She watched as the dwarven blacksmiths worked the Uru in their enchanted forge, dazzled by the intense skill and concentration needed to birth the magical weapon. One last image of the process so intense it nearly destroyed the world in which she lived, and the moment faded to black.

Darcy gasped, and groped around for the half-full flask. Taking a sip to calm her nerves, she considered the weapon on the table. There was a...was it waiting for something?

Wondering just what the hell was in this flask, she reached out and grasped the handle more firmly. Closing her eyes, she reached back into her earliest memories and, for lack of a better word...opened herself to the consciousness she could feel in the hammer.

...her first pony ride, breathless and excited, tiny hands gripping the patient beast's mane and heels gently thumping against a barrel belly....

::being judged as the finest work Eitri had ever crafted, and working with Odin to defeat Asgard's foes::

Tugging gently at the leather loop attached to the handle, wondering how something that looked so fragile could hold Thor's weight as he flew.

...a series of birthday parties, including a food fight with the cake, pink frosting a real bitch to get out of her curly hair, angry words from her mother as she not-so-gently tries to clean up her daughter....

::taking the measure of this Prince of Asgard, and the moment when Thor was found worthy::

Her curious fingers tracing down the shaft, nails catching in the grooves left between sections of the leather wrap.

...skinned knees and sore knuckles from decking the bully who had shoved her when she stood up for the sickly kid a couple of grades behind her....

::teaching Thor how to wield it with grace and skill, how to summon it no matter where it may lie, and how to summon the elements of the storm::

The palm of her hand running along the side of the blocky metal, pausing to feel the weight and heft evident even without lifting it.

...her first kiss, palms sweaty and breathless with anticipation, enjoying the moment but feeling wretched when she learned it was to win a bet from his friends....

::learning how to travel the realms, sliding along the paths of Yggdrasil to worlds vastly different from Asgard::

Sensitive fingers following the stylized designs that decorate the edges of the hammer's head.

...feeling isolated and lost at Culver, so frustrated at needing six stupid credits but relief at being the only applicant for the internship with a brilliant but possibly kooky scientist who was sure she'd find her answers in the New Mexico desert....

::sorrow as the Prince was made mortal and cast out, his arrogance making him unworthy of the weapon he had wielded for so long::

With each pass of her fingers over the elaborate knotwork, the tingles in Darcy's body grew more and more intense.

...a whirlwind of images from the moment they hit Thor with the van to when he nearly died at the hands of the Destroyer....

::exultation when his willingness to sacrifice himself for the mortals of this realm prove him worthy not just to Mjolnir, but to himself as well::

Distantly, she felt her body writhing on the couch, felt herself gasping for breath at the energies coursing through her body, lighting up all of her pleasure centers and building towards something amazing.

...the terror at Jane's possession by the Aether, her fear of not being good enough to help defend her world against the Dark Elves, and the awe she felt at the glimpses of other realms attached to the world tree during the Convergence....

::the briefest of glimpses of Yggdrasil as Mjolnir sees her, an endless moment where she is conscious of the connection of the hammer, the tree, and her very mortal body residing on Midgard, the affection and love traveling through this connection to her in one amazing burst of light and color::

Darcy slammed back into her physical form, still lying untouched on the couch, and overloaded into the most amazing orgasm she'd ever experienced. Ever. The joy and wonder of that moment of connection wrung an exultant shriek from her throat, tears slipping from behind her
closed eyelids, waves of pleasure swamping her for long moments that felt like they are never going to end. It's too much, her nipples felt like they're on fire, her clit was swollen and pulsing and she was coming so hard she could feel her cunt clamping down and her release flooding her panties. Every muscle was straining, her heels and shoulders digging hard into the couch and her back bowed near to breaking. Eventually it was too much and she felt everything spinning, fading to black as she passed out.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she came back to herself and just took a moment to enjoy the cosmic afterglow.

"Oh, my GOD!" Darcy breathed out, panting and soaked. "That's the best damn time I've ever had with my clothes on. Wow. Thanks, Mew-Mew. A hell of a ride, that. Whew." Reaching for the flask to take another sip, she paused. “Wait, did you get Thor to bring me this?”

A momentary pause, then a slightly questioning, oddly coy vibration rattles the table upon which the hammer sits.

"This is that moment when sane, rational people would say, ‘Hey, what’s the motivation for an ancient warhammer to make me come so hard I think I saw literal stars’. Today I have learned that I am not that person, and I don’t really care. Because orgasms.”

She would swear under oath or by Thor or whatever that she heard a faint chuckle on the air.

“This is a new one. Really. I’ve been seduced by an inanimate object of incredible power. What even is my life.” Still shaking in the afterglow, she spilled a bit over her fingers. A deliciously warm tingle spread over the skin of her hands. “Oh, hello. I wonder if….”

Sitting up she quickly stripped off her damp shirt and raising the flask in a salute to Mjölnir, tipped it and poured a stream over her bare breasts. Using both hands, she quickly spread the fluid around to cover her entire chest and the sensitive spots on her neck, taking special care to ensure her nipples were well coated. Almost instantly, they tightened into eager nubs and she could practically feel the air caressing her flesh.

Darcy gasped, then smirked, and reached for the button on her jeans. "You get to explain this to Thor later."

Mjölnir simply radiated smug, practically skipped off the table to land in a clear space on the extremely plush rug, and turned up the vibration invitingly.

"Oh yeah. Who needs a Sybian? It's a good thing one of your nicknames is 'The Grinder'.” Pouring nearly all of the rest of the mead over the hammer, she idly wondered if she had enough fine muscle control in her hips to let her trace the knotwork with her swollen, throbbing clit as she knelt over the hammer with her knees spread wide and slowly lowered herself so her drenched sex caressed the metal. “Yeah. Let's do this thing."