J.LOKI: washing off
mdni. shower sex, p in v, all that jazz.
imagine renting out a massive beach house in the south of france just for you and loki.
you two would go yachting, laze around the beach, play catch, collect seashells, and watch the sunset together. all those cheesy moments that people would mock you for liking.
and after a long day in the sun, when all you wanted was to rest your eyes and take a bath, he’ll slip into the shower right behind you.
it started innocently enough, lathering his hands in far too expensive body wash and beginning to massage you. his hands worked magic on your muscles, exploring your neck all the way to your arms. it felt like worship as he whispered, lips brushing your skin with every breath.
he grinned as he began to guide his hands to your chest, teasing you by pinching your nipple. the other hand worked on your chest, going between squeezing and massaging as you gasped.
“t’es trop sensible.”
you might not have understood, but his voice gave away it was a tease. he ended it with one last tweak before pumping more soap to lather on your stomach.
he felt around, grabbing the skin and swaying his hands back and forth. your core began to betray your mind, throbbing when his hand reached lower before sweeping back up.
the evil bastard knew exactly what he was doing. gentlemen, your ass—he was nothing but a tease.
“please–“
“hmm? please what?”
you looked back at him, frustration growing, but before you could say anything, you were pinned to the cold tile of the shower. your chest was squished, hands slapping the wet wall for any sort of stability.
“je suis trop gentil avec toi,” he spread your legs apart, rough fingers digging into the fat of your thighs.
wiggling your ass for any form of attention, his smirk grew, “—bien trop gentil.”
he buried you to the hilt with a stifled groan, your cheek flattened on the shower’s tile, letting out a weak, “ohh~”
every smack of his hips had you crying, drool following the path of the shower’s rain.
“j’ai loué une villa pour toi et la seule chose qui t’intéresse, c’est ma bite.”
the weight of his body on your back increased, making your thighs tremble as you tried to stay balanced, but he made it so hard with each heavy smack! of his hips.
your high came closer and closer, arching your back with a silent scream, toes digging into the flooring of the shower.
loki snapped his hips before abruptly pulling out and painting your back with white.
there was a pause between you, filled with each other’s panting and the white noise of the shower still running.
“i can go another round,” loki huffed, dragging his hand to your spine, pushing down to force you into an arch.
“can’t we do that tomorrow? i just want to sleep…”
i may be french but i dont speak a lick of it. sorry for any inaccuracies
